He cupped her breast, firm and demanding. With his long fingers, he learned the shaped of her, teased the jut of her nipple until her flesh swelled impossibly sensitive to his touch.
Laura went exploring beneath his tunic. Hard muscle over hot skin as she traced the cut of his abs, up to his pectoral muscle and found his nipple.
He groaned, his hands already lifting her skirt.
With no underwear as barrier, he slid his hand between her thighs and touched her where she needed him the most. God, it had been so long. Too long. All the forbidden wanting left her clinging to him, panting.
He slid his fingers inside her.
Laura’s muscles clamped down, desperate for this and more.
“Let me love you.” He used his fingers to drive her closer to orgasm, his thumb toying with her clitoris. “I need to be inside you.”
Some inkling of good sense intruded. “We can’t.”
“Can’t?” He reared back, face flushed, gaze wild and so hot it scorched her.
Dammit, she didn’t want to be the voice of reason right now. Not with him still petting between her thighs and her hand around the most impressive cock she’d ever encountered. “Birth control.” She barely got the words through her tight jaw. “We can’t take that risk.”
“Fuck.” He turned and pressed her into the trunk of a tree. Dropping to his knees in front of her, he raised her skirts. “Yeah, but that doesn’t stop me from doing this.”
His mouth sent Laura jerking into the rough bark of the tree. He worked her over slowly with lips and tongue until her knees threatened to buckle. Only the tree kept her standing as she thundered into the most intense orgasm of her life.
She slid down the tree onto the leaf-strewn ground.
Oliver looked at her, grinned and wiped his mouth. He tugged her, limp and satiated, toward him and dropped onto his back. From beneath her, he gave her a wicked grin. “There is plenty we can do without that being a problem.”
Chapter Eleven
“Oliver.” Laura picked leaves out her hair. The hazards of al fresco romping. “Your file at Deer Fallows didn’t list an age. Do you know how old you are?”
He glanced up at her. “I didn’t when I first arrived, but since I learned to read, write and some basic math, I did a bit of research.”
It made her a little sad he hadn’t received the sort of education she had taken for granted. Oliver’s mind had responded sponge-like to information. His hours logged in the library and online had impressed even her. “And?’
“It’s not easy.” He helped brush down her skirts. “Not a lot was written down and virtually nothing by people like myself. Using major events, I narrowed my age down to somewhere between twenty-five and thirty.”
“How old would you say de Wolfe is?” She had to move slowly. Having built his life around this house of cards, Oliver wouldn’t react well to its collapse. Who would?
Stepping away from her, he then stilled. “What are you getting at?”
“I’m just trying to establish the facts.”
He scowled. “I told you the facts. He got my mother with child, abandoned her and then tried to kill the two of us.”
“But—”
Oliver turned and stomped away. “I’m not having this conversation anymore. It’s over.”
The next morning Laura waited for Elewys to leave. She peeped out the window at Elewys disappearing into the forest with Oliver’s meal.
Time to get some answers. Slipping away was easy and Oliver had pointed out the road to the village when they went to the castle. Trying to look like she knew where she was going, she walked quickly.
A stout man passed her. “Good morrow.”
“Morrow.” She nodded and kept going.
The closer she drew to the village the more people joined her on the road. All of them greeted her. Staying behind a small group of three men and two women Laura listened to their speech. If she wanted to blend in here she needed to make herself sound like one of them. Just like Oliver had done in her time. Otherwise, there was always her “Welsh” ancestry.
The village would eventually grow into a large city, but for now it remained a small road sided by neat, thatched cottages. A church marked the far end of the village, the castle the other.
Her history books had said people gathered around churches, so she headed off in that direction. Bingo! Five woman stood near the church entrance, chatting.
“Good morrow.” Laura waved at them.
They turned and stared at her, returning her greeting.
A thin woman in a nasty yellow dress stepped forward. “You are new here, are you not?”
“Y-aye, mistress.” She waved in the direction of Oliver’s cottage. “I am newly married to Oliver Fitzwilliam.”
They glanced at each other.
The thin woman looked at a short, plumper woman. “Does she mean your William?”
“My William has no son.” The plumper woman puffed up. “Leastways, none that I know of.”
Damn! Rookie mistake because they didn’t use last names in this time. Clever, clever Oliver. He’d given his name to them at Deer Fallows as Fitzwilliam, son of William. Slapping a blissful bride smile on her face, she said, “Oliver, Elewys’s boy.”
“Oh.” The plump one fanned her face. “You had me worried there.”
“Oliver is married?” The other four women stepped closer.
Thin woman nudged Laura. “Are you not a lucky lass then. Big, comely fellow is our Oliver.”
Her blush came without prompting.
The women cackled.
“I am Bess,” said the thin woman. “And this here is Alice, Mary, Martha and Agnus.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Laura nodded to each of them. “I am Laura.”
Agnus giggled. “You speak funny.”
Her accent. “My people are Welsh.”
“Ah.” They all nodded.
“I did not know Oliver was betrothed.” Laura thought that one was Martha, but she could be Mary.
“It was all rather sudden.” She gave them her best Disney princess lash flutter.
Sniffing, Bess said, “With child are you?”
“No…nay.” And trying her best to stay that way. When in doubt, more Disney princess. “Oliver and I fell in love.”
Bess looked unconvinced.
Clasping her hands to her chest, Alice’s smile grew dreamy. “Oh, how lovely.”
“Is that where Oliver went then?” Martha peered at her. “He went to Wales? Elewys got very close mouthed about where he was.”
“She did not know.” Laura shrugged. “He did not tell her where he was going.” Now time to see how the land lay. “You know how Elewys can be.”
All five women nodded and Laura nearly cheered.
Bess rolled her eyes. “He’d have to get away from her to get married. What with her always guarding him so close.”
“She is a little possessive.” Inching into unknown territory, Laura gauged their reactions.
Martha elbowed Mary. “Our Mary fancied herself in love with him a while back, but Elewys was having none of it.”
With a toss of her dark head, Mary said, “Then I found my Peter and now I am perfectly settled.”
“Do you know Elewys well?” As Alice looked to be the oldest of the five, Laura turned to her.
“Oh, nay,” said Alice. “She keeps to herself for the most past and she and Oliver have not lived here long. They came not long after de Wolfe was given Questing.” Turning, she nudged Bess. “Where did Elewys say they came from afore?”
“Norham.” Bess turned to Martha. “Did she not say Norham?”
“Aye.” Martha nodded. “Made quite the name for herself over there.”
“Really?” Laura used her listening face.
“Magic.” Alice leaned closer. “They say she has the power of the fae folk.”
“Fae folk, indeed.” Snorting, Martha folded her plump arms.
“What would you c
all it then?” Gentle Alice stuck to her guns. “All the things she sees and knows about. Afore they happen.”
“What I want to know is where is Oliver’s father?” Martha jabbed her finger at Alice. “If she can read the signs and tell the future, how is it she didn’t see herself raising a boy outside of marriage?”
“Martha.” Bess scowled at her. “You cannot speak so of her family.”
“Nay, it is fine.” Laura waved a dismissive hand. “I am glad Alice said something.” Doing a quick check around, she leaned in close.
The women leaned in with her.
“I have noticed things.” Widening her eyes, Laura paused for effect. “Things I cannot explain. Strange things.”
That’s all it took to get the stories flowing.
Elewys had established herself in this village and the one before as something of a seer. She’d made a number of rather neat predictions that ended up coming true. The way the women spoke of her made it clear they didn’t like Elewys but they had a healthy respect for her abilities.
Even the local priest believed Elewys’s accurate prediction of both a devastating summer storm, and a couple of major battles had been handed down to her from God.
Seer! Laura snorted to herself. She had a sneaky suspicion Elewys’s abilities had a lot more to do with a sword than prophesy. So if Elewys knew how to use the sword, perhaps she was Laura’s way home, and Elewys would love to see the back of her.
Oliver searched the farm for Laura.
Mother had not seen her since noon, and now twilight approached. His sense of time had suffered from his trip into the future. Before he could read time or knew what a watch was, before he could even conceive of something such as a cellular device, he had told time by the position of the sun, the seasons, the length of shadows. His sense of oneness with his world needed some realignment.
Still, he would give his left ballock for a cellular phone right now, to ring Laura up and ask her where the hell she’d gotten to.
She could be anywhere. Lost in the woods, wandering around the neighboring farms, back at the castle. Or in the village. With her incurable curiosity about people, his best chance of finding her meant the village or the castle.
“Where are you going?” Twisting her apron, Mother hovered in the cottage doorway.
“I need to find Laura.” Oliver had no patience with Mother now. Head full of all Laura had said, he needed time away from Mother to put his thoughts in order, or he would surely snap her neck.
“Why?” Mother squinted at the setting sun. “It will be dark soon, and I’m sure she will find her way home for her meal.”
Not really knowing where to begin, he stared at his mother for a moment. “She doesn’t know this time other than through books. She could be anywhere, with anyone.” Saying, God alone knew what to that anyone.
Mother snorted. “That one can look after herself.”
“No, she can’t. You have no idea what happened to me in her time.” Only now they wouldn’t find a bed for her in a clean, albeit creepy, and organized institution. Medieval justice was meted out rough and ready style. “You should have kept an eye on her.”
“I never wanted her here.” Mother’s expression grew venomous. “You never needed a wife before, and now you bring one such as this and expect me to welcome her. I will not.” She slammed back into the cottage.
Nay, Mother never welcomed that which she did not instigate or did not suit her purpose. As a boy he had been held to her will by force. When he was older she had maintained her tyranny playing on his sense of duty, responsibility and loyalty.
Like a festering splinter Laura’s words of yester eve rankled. William de Wolfe could not be that many years older than him. Not even if he miscalculated his age by ten years did the math add up. Even if that were the case, and he had researched his age thoroughly so it could not be, but even so William could not have been more than a stripling when he fathered him. Barely old enough to shave and certainly not large enough to be in charge of an armed company that had chased a woman and her babe down.
All night he’d lain beside Laura, aroused and troubled. By dawn he had reached the inescapable truth that Mother had lied to him. His entire life. Feeling betrayed, angry and fucking stupid, he had escaped the cottage early this morning before he lashed out at one of the women.
His anger at Laura made no sense and he understood it as unfair, and yet he could not face her and see the pity in her eyes. At mother, his anger simmered and bubbled like slow boiling oil. Childhood memories tormented him as he had worked in the woods. Mother driving the point home, with her cruel words, the back of her hand, food deprivation, all aimed at making him hate William de Wolfe.
With most people already home for their evening meal the road to the village remained quiet.
Why had his mother driven him to hate de Wolfe?
If Mother had lied about William de Wolfe being his father, then what else had she lied about? It did not take him long to extrapolate that de Wolfe probably remained blissfully unaware of Elewys’s bastard child. He had nearly killed a man for no reason. As the beliefs of his childhood tumbled one after another, Oliver questioned everything. Did de Wolfe even know Elewys?
Sunset bled across the sky by the time he entered the village. Every question bred another, until it did his head in. For now, he needed to find Laura.
“Ho, Oliver!” Bardot the smith stopped him and clapped him on the shoulder with a beefy hand. “I hear you are to be congratulated on your marriage.” With a hammer-like nudge to the ribs, he winked. “You did well for yourself, my boy.”
Thank God, Laura was here. Relief disappeared as quickly as it had come. Laura was here, and talking to the villagers. This could be very bad.
“My thanks.” He slid out of nudging distance. “Actually, I seem to have lost my wife.”
“I wouldn’t do that.” Pounding him on the back hard enough to make his ribs ache, Bardot chuckled. “Pretty little thing like that. All alone. Never know who might want to take her off your hands.”
Over his dead body. No longer constrained by the need to hide it from the rest of Deer Fallows, the rush of possessiveness swept through Oliver.
“Oho.” Bardolf cackled and pointed at his face. “I see that look. A buck in rut. Go, find your wench and drag her home with you. She’s clucking with the women on the green.”
Oliver didn’t rate his chances high of dragging Laura anywhere she did not want to go, but he hurried to the green.
Laughing and chatting, she sat amongst a group of around ten other women. For a moment, he forgot that she wasn’t from this time, wasn’t really his wife. Instead he allowed himself to see what he wanted to see. His woman, blonde hair gleaming, pretty face alight with interest, sitting amongst her friends and enjoying the twilight.
Laura caught sight of him and tensed. She raised a tentative hand in greeting.
Willful wench, knew he had not wanted her to leave the cottage without him. Well, she had set the battleground, and he would carry the battle of wills to her.
Gaze locked with hers, he strode across the green. Cutting straight through the women’s circle, he hauled her to her feet and kissed her.
She went stiff in his arms.
Kissing her for all he was worth, Oliver redoubled his efforts.
With a breathy moan that shot straight to his cock, Laura wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss.
Whistles, cheers and calls eventually broke them apart.
Her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes made him want to toss her skirts and have more of what he’d sampled yesterday.
“There you are,” he said.
Still slightly dazed, Laura touched her lips. “Here I am.”
Expecting anger from William, Laura struggled to catch up with his almost jovial mood. Grinning and trading insults with other villagers, he kept his arm about her shoulders and her firmly tucked to his side.
The villagers seemed to genuinely like Oliver.
While they spoke of Elewys with guarded dislike, Oliver they welcomed like the prodigal son.
Congratulations on his marriage rained down on them. An impromptu party grew around them. Women brought food, somebody opened a barrel of ale, braziers were stuck in the ground, and even the children joined the fun. Laura ate far too much, and drank more than she normally would. Around her people laughed, yelled, ate and got unselfconsciously drunk. They took the opportunity to party and ran with it.
Seeing Oliver like this made her heart swell and ache a little. He was in his element, amongst his people, head thrown back as he roared with laughter. She wanted to always remember him like this. Not the quiet, watchful man in his cell in Deer Fallows, but this man. Strong, beautiful and completely at his ease.
He belonged here, and that hurt more than it should.
Laura ambled along beside Oliver, his arm over her shoulder. Full night had fallen, lighting the sky with more stars than she’d thought possible. She dropped her head back to see them. “We don’t see skies like this anymore. The city lights block them out.”
“There are things to every time that make it beautiful,” Oliver said.
Laura had never known nature could be so full of noises. A city girl through and through, her knowledge of nature was limited at best. Rustles, calls and chirrups sounded around her, but with Oliver by her side, they soothed her.
“Laura?” Grave and quiet, his tone penetrated the peaceful night. “I find myself uncertain as to what to do now.”
“Because of what you discovered about de Wolfe?”
“Amongst other things.” As they walked, he traced patterns on her shoulder. “I need to ask Mother about it.”
Laura had to at least try to prepare him. “She might not want to give you the answers.”
“She owes me that much.” Tension radiated off him.
“Yes, but she might not see it that way.” Laura slipped her arm about his waist. Walking like this had a certain rightness to it. Their steps matched, their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.
“You think I should not ask her?” He stopped and faced her.
Romance the De Wolfe Page 24
