Ella's Desire (Borderland Ladies Book 3)

by Madeline Martin

  Bronson entered the room only a few moments later. His green eyes lit up when they found hers. “Good afternoon, my dove.” He glanced about the room. “Are we alone?”

  He no longer had to wear his sling, but still favored his right arm over his left.

  Ella nodded. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he still read her books, if he still enjoyed the stories, but his arms were around her in an instant and all thoughts and concerns flitted away.

  His lips brushed over her jawline. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you,” he growled.

  She tilted her head to the side to allow him better access to her neck, her breasts, craving the heat of his mouth. “And I you.”

  “I need you.” He took her hand and put it to flap of his trews, where he was already hard and hot.

  Ella moaned in anticipation. She jerked free his ties and drew out his hardness as he carefully walked her backward, toward the door to the solar. While the door didn’t lock, it could be held shut with their bodies, especially if they leaned against it. With the privacy and golden warmth of the small solar, it had become one of their favorite rooms to meet.

  Bronson lifted her skirt, his fingers immediately finding her center. His arm had healed properly enough for full use of it again, and the pleasure he gave with two arms was intensely wonderful.

  He lifted her leg against the wall, spreading her open for him, as he grabbed his cock in his free hand and positioned it at her core. The heat of the swollen tip blazed against her sex.

  Ella wriggled in his hold, desperate for him to plunge inside of her.

  A knock sounded at the door. They both straightened immediately. Ella’s dress dropped down while Bronson’s hands disappeared under his tunic to tie shut the closure to his trews.

  “What is it?” Ella asked in a sweet tone.

  “My lady,” Drake’s voice came through the door. “The Countess of Calville and Lady Lark have arrived.”

  “Oh, how wonderful,” Ella stammered. “I shall be down in a moment.”

  “As will I,” Bronson declared from behind her.

  She shot him a chastising look and he shrugged. “We are reading in here.” He pulled a book out, opened it up and tossed another in her direction.

  Ella stretched her hands out and snapped the book from the air before it could hit the ground. “Are you mad? You can’t handle books like that.”

  She cradled it to her chest as though it were a baby. Surely, Bronson knew better than to handle books so callously.

  Once Drake’s rhythmic footsteps faded away, Ella set her book back on the shelf. Bronson offered her his arm and led her down toward the bailey to meet his stepmother and half-sister.

  16

  Bronson stood proudly with Ella on his arm as he waited for the retinue traveling with Brigid and Lark to arrive. The small wooden cart with their trunks rattled behind them as they rode up on fine brown horses alongside several of Werrick’s soldiers, sent with them to ensure their safe passage.

  The Earl of Werrick had given them good horses to ride, as well as protection, and for that, Bronson could not have been more grateful. Lark stared up in awe at the castle as they approached while Brigid smiled kindly at Bronson and Ella.

  “Your stepmother is b…b…beautiful,” William stuttered from where he stood beside Bronson, his gaze locked on Brigid. “Beautiful,” he said again, this time under his breath, in a whisper and without the stammer.

  Bronson turned a curious eye to William, who watched the procession come to a halt like a man seeing a work of art being unveiled.

  “I will introduce you.” Bronson hid a smile at the man’s reaction.

  William’s expression became quickly shuttered. He shook his head. “Nay. That is n…n…not necessary.”

  It was a surprising response when his reaction had been so strong upon seeing Brigid for the first time. Bronson stepped forward to help her from her mount while Peter assisted Lark. Both ladies were dressed in fine clothes that suited their station and, in Lark’s case, her size.

  The coin he had given them when he left, as well as additional funds he’d had sent from items he’d sold, had gone to improving their appearances considerably. Both women practically gleamed with good health, and it warmed his heart to see it.

  “Brigid.” Bronson bowed to her. “You and Lark look lovely. I do hope your journey was an easy one.”

  “Oh, it was wonderful.” Brigid’s gaze wandered up to the castle. She touched a hand first to her chest, then to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. “The castle is beautiful.” She reached a hand for Bronson’s. “You have done so much for us,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

  “You needn’t mention it,” Bronson said quickly. He hoped she would not mention it again lest Ella hear.

  After he’d worked so hard to get Ella to want to marry him, he could not lose her affections. Not now when they were so close to the wedding. Not when Brigid and Lark looked to be thriving once more.

  “Ella, this is my stepmother, Brigid Berkley, the fifth Countess of Calville.” He regarded Ella and saw her as Brigid must, with tumbling locks, a beautiful smile and fine silk clothing. “And this is my bride to be, Lady Ella Barrington, third daughter to the Earl of Werrick.”

  Ella curtsied. “Well met, Lady Calville. Welcome to Werrick.”

  Brigid reached out a hand to stop Ella. “Oh please, that isn’t necessary. Do call me Brigid. We never fell on formality in my home, and I think the title of Lady Calville will be far lovelier on you.”

  Lark shifted closer with shy steps, her long brown hair pulled back in a simple braid. The green kirtle she wore was of fine cotton and such a deep shade of green, it made her eyes appear startling in her fair face.

  “And is this Lady Lark?” Ella asked.

  Lark nodded and glanced up sheepishly at Bronson. Reticence wouldn’t do among brother and sister though, not for him. He caught her in a hug that lifted her feet from the ground and had her laughing before he set her back down.

  Leila came forward with two handfuls of small purple and white flowers, which she handed to Brigid and Lark. “If you set them by your bed, they will not only look beautiful, but will also help you sleep well.”

  “How kind of you,” Brigid said. But it was Lark that Leila was watching with quiet hope. No doubt a friend for little Leila to play with. They were about the same age, he wagered.

  “This is Lady Leila,” Bronson said by way of introduction. “Leila, will you be so kind as to show Lark where she’ll be sleeping? Mayhap introduce her to Lady Catriona and Nan and Bixby? But mind her around Moppet.” He lowered his voice with warning and widened his eyes dramatically. “She won’t want to be left alone…with Moppet.”

  “Oh, he isn’t that bad,” Ella offered in reassurance.

  But Leila and Lark were both already laughing and running into the castle, hand in hand, with Hardy dashing behind them. Bronson watched the two go and a sense of lightness filled him. This was the life Lark should have had from the onset. One of wealth and happiness, filled with friendship.

  He was glad to finally offer it to her.

  Brigid was introduced to the Earl of Werrick and Drake. William, however, had gone missing. Once introductions were done, Brigid was shown to her chamber along with Jane, her remaining servant, to refresh from her journey before supper.

  No sooner had Bronson’s stepmother left the room than he felt himself being pulled into a shaded alcove. Ella arched her body against him. “We have unfinished business, my lord.”

  “Later, my dove.” He pressed a kiss to her brow. “I must ensure their trunks are delivered properly to their rooms.”

  “Rohesia will see to that.” Ella locked her hold on him more tightly. “Touch me.”

  Bronson glanced behind him to ensure no one was nearby. Especially not his stepmother or Lark. They would be terribly disappointed to find him in such a compromising position. He shook his head. “Later,” he promised.

  Ell
a gave him a coy smile and slid her leg between his, nudging at his cock with her thigh.

  “Ella, cease this at once.” His tone was sharper than intended, but it had the desired result. She released her hold on him. He plucked at the fabric of his doublet to ensure no wrinkles were visible.

  “We cannot always go about like this,” he said more gently. “Later, my dove.” He placed a kiss on her smooth cheek and left to see to Lark while Brigid freshened up. Children seldom needed the time to gather themselves after a long journey as their elders did.

  Sure enough, he found his half-sister in the hut with Leila as they bundled herbs together to string along the rafters.

  “That one is chamomile,” Leila said. “You can use it in teas and many other things.”

  Both girls and one wayward hunting dog lifted their heads as he entered the small space. Lark and Leila both smiled and Hardy’s tail began to thump with enthusiasm.

  “Lady Leila is showing me how to use herbs for healing.” Lark hurried over to him and held out the small white flowers that were in the bundles Leila had given to them upon their arrival. “These are chamomile. Won’t this be so wonderful to know when we return to Berkley Manor?”

  Bronson’s chest went tight with his sister’s excitement to learn about herbs. She was not thinking of this finer life as permanent, but as an opportunity to glean what she could to better her life with her mother at Berkley Manor. It was obvious she was anticipating returning to the life they had led before, once this was over.

  “Aye, my little Lark, it will be most helpful.” He rubbed a hand over her head and bent to offer greetings to Hardy. The dog leaned his head back until it was nearly upside down, watching him with soul-deep brown eyes, while his long pink tongue dangled out of the corner of his mouth.

  Now Hardy could watch over Lark in addition to Leila, keeping both girls safe.

  Bronson straightened. “Thank you for making Lark feel so welcome.”

  Leila gave him her shy smile and nodded. “’Tis my pleasure.”

  And no doubt it was. Leila’s sisters were all older than her. He imagined having Lark visit was a wonderful opportunity for her to befriend someone her own age.

  “Hardy, keep these two out of trouble,” he commanded.

  The dog tilted his head in confusion and the girls both laughed.

  “We’ll be good,” Leila reassured him.

  Certain they would get on well, Bronson left to ensure all preparations for their stay had been handled accordingly. After the hard life that his stepmother and half-sister had lived, he wanted them to have only the best.

  For the first time in far too long, his life was going well. Not the kind of well he’d enjoyed with his father where his days were filled with a perception of carefree enjoyment, for now he knew the sacrifices others made for such pleasures. Nay, this was going well in a way that had his family cared for with a beautiful, lusty betrothed.

  He needed only handle several more tasks and would meet Ella after supper, and after they’d eaten…

  He grinned in anticipation and set about his duties.

  Ella had not seen Bronson all day, except in passing. The man ran around as though he were mistress of the house, seeing to preparations for his stepmother and half-sister to ensure that they were comfortable. While it was considerate of him to do so, Ella could not help but miss their many clandestine meetings.

  In the time she had been spending with Bronson the prior few days, however, she had been neglecting her sisters. She sought to make that right in her time away from him now. She found Cat in the room they once had all shared together, sitting before the fire with her head bent over Geordie’s missive.

  She looked up with a smile. “Did you think of something more to add to your wedding preparations?”

  The mere mention of the wedding preparations rankled Ella. It was supposed to be a wonderfully romantic event to plan, but in reality, it was tedious and full of far too many things she was not certain of, like, everything Bronson preferred.

  She set Moppet’s bag on the dressing table and Moppet peered out from beneath the flap.

  “Nay, I just thought I would like to ready for supper in our room, like I did before.” Ella indicated the letter. “And you could read me Geordie’s letter.”

  Cat’s eyes sparkled. “I would like that very much.”

  “Where is Leila?” Ella glanced about the room.

  “With Lark.” Cat rose from the chair and settled her letter from Geordie on the bed, then went to the clothes trunk. “The two of them were immediate friends. I think it’s wonderful for Leila to have someone her own age, and I am glad that we will be getting a new sister.”

  Moppet hopped down from the table and raced over to the parchment. Ella lifted it before he could touch it. “Then this is the perfect time for me to hear about Geordie’s letter.”

  Cat happily obliged and read on and on, with giggles and a wide smile, about Geordie’s adventures on campaign with the king. Cat and Geordie had been inseparable since they were children and although Cat was truly happy for him, his absence had struck her hard.

  The door to their room opened and Leila entered with Lark, Hardy trotting at their heels. Moppet raced back into the bag with an irate chattering that caused them all to break out in a fit of giggles. Together, they all readied for supper, helping each other while chatting. Lark, though somewhat timid, appeared to fit right in with the Werrick sisters, and Ella was only too happy to welcome her into the family. As they were making their way to the great hall later, Lark strode along beside Ella.

  “I’m so pleased you will be marrying Bronson.” Lark’s cheeks went pink. “I can’t imagine a family more wonderful than yours to belong to.”

  There was something about the young girl that made Ella want to curl her arms around Lark protectively. Mayhap it was how painfully thin the child was, or mayhap it was her wondrous expression as she gazed around Werrick Castle, as if she had never seen such finery.

  “We are happy to have you join us,” she replied earnestly. “And I know Leila is pleased to have someone her own age to talk to.”

  They walked into the great hall and Lark stopped abruptly, her mouth falling open in awe.

  “Have you not been inside the great hall of a castle before?” Ella asked.

  Lark shook her head.

  Ella regarded the girl curiously. “Have you never gone to court then?”

  Lark shook her head again. “Does it look like this?”

  “Far grander, with many meals served and stiff kirtles laced far too tight so you can scarcely move.” Ella walked rigidly for two steps, her arms locked out at her sides.

  Lark laughed.

  “But there are troubadours who tell the most wonderful tales.” Ella led Lark down the side of the great hall, past the many rows of trestles.

  Lark’s attention fixed on a mountain of rolls in the center of one table. “What is a troubadour?” she asked distractedly.

  Ella blinked in surprise. It was a strange thing for the girl to have not gone to court by the age of fourteen, but entirely another for her to have never been exposed to a troubadour. Even in the country, the traveling story tellers often made appearances in villages between visits to wealthier homes.

  “They tell the most wonderful tales of love.” Ella put her hand over her chest and sighed with happiness. “We have written several of their stories down if you would like to read them.”

  “Oh, I cannot read.” Lark made the admission as if it were nothing, as if it were simply a declaration to have a second helping of food or a bland comment upon the weather.

  Ella frowned at such a horrible fate as not being able to read. They arrived at their table and there was no more time for her to discuss the matter.

  Bronson rose as Ella approached. She smiled at him, but the action felt forced. Was he aware his sister was unable to read? And what of all the books he’d said his stepmother and Lark most likely possessed?

  Not only
was he not aware of his sister’s affinities, he had actively hindered her life. First by not taking her to court while he had spent years living there, and then by not teaching the girl to read. It was appalling.

  His stepmother, Lady Calville, was at Ella’s right. A woman who was nearly as thin as her daughter. Threads of silver gleamed in brown hair the same color as Lark’s. The woman glanced affectionately at Ella with the kind of smile one gives someone they have known all of their life, unguarded and warm.

  It made Ella immediately like the woman, and twinged Ella’s guilt at her selfish reaction earlier that day after Bronson had left to see to his stepmother and Lark.

  Ella took her seat and tried as best she could to return the warmth of the sentiment. “I trust you had as comfortable a journey as is possible for such a long distance,” she said.

  Lady Calville dipped her slender fingers into the bowl of water at her side and held them out to a servant to wipe clean for her. “Aye, it was pleasant. Your father went to great expense to see to our comfort with such fine horses. It was considerate of him.”

  Ella went about her own ablutions while she took in what Lady Calville had said. She had assumed Bronson had taken the financial burden of his stepmother and Lark’s journey. It was interesting that her father had taken care of it all.

  “Actually, I believe it was William who made the preparations.” Bronson indicated where William sat several places down.

  Having heard his name, the steward ceased speaking to one of the servants and turned his attention to Bronson.

  Lady Calville leaned forward to better see him. “Thank you for all your efforts in arranging our travel. It was a smooth and pleasant journey.”

  William’s face went red. He nodded. “Y…y…y…you’re very w…w…w…welcome, m…m…my l…l…l…” He grimaced. “My lady.” Once he finally finished speaking, he lowered his head.

  Ella tried not to let the puzzlement show on her face at William’s odd behavior. His stammer was more pronounced than usual, and his shyness was almost painful to witness. Whatever had gotten into him?