“Gate,” he said, “will you have us post a guard where the lady is to be housed?”
Gaetan watched as the old woman swabbed the stitched wound with vinegar and then packed moss on top of it before beginning to bind it.
“Aye, but only on the outside,” he said. “She has Cam inside to protect her and he has proven himself most worthy in that aspect. We will simply stand guard outside and be vigilant as to who comes and goes.”
Gaetan patted the dog affectionately as it lay beside Ghislaine. Aramis spoke up.
“I will take the first watch.”
Both Gaetan and Téo looked at him. Gaetan was becoming increasingly displeased with Aramis’ boldness towards Ghislaine, struggling to keep the situation in perspective. He said he would beg off and allow me to pursue her, he thought. But it didn’t seem that way.
“Very well,” Gaetan said evenly, “but I will remain with her at present. You and Téo must go and see to the men and to your horses. I will send for you when it is time for you to stand guard.”
He was effectively sending Aramis away. Téo, concerned what would happen if Aramis refused to obey, reached out to put a friendly hand on Aramis’ arm to encourage him.
“Come along, mon frère,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “Let us see to the horses, as he says. That was quite a ride over here and I must make sure my horse didn’t suffer from the terrain.”
Aramis didn’t say anything but his gaze lingered on Gaetan, who was staring back at him without blinking. In fact, there was hazard in Gaetan’s face. Aramis could see it but, somehow, his pride wouldn’t let him back down. Still, he didn’t want things to escalate, at least not in front of the lady. He turned as Téo pulled at him, moving away from the hut and heading back to the area where the rest of the men were gathered.
But a coldness lingered in his wake.
It was a coldness felt by Ghislaine. She had watched Aramis and Téo move away but quickly lost sight of them. Aramis’ behavior confused her.
“What is the matter with Aramis?” she asked. “Why did he look so… odd?”
Gaetan was watching the old woman wrap the leg. It was a perfect question to open up a dialogue that needed to be spoken. In spite of the fact that there was an audience to their conversation in the old woman, he doubted she would understand what he said if he said it in French. He switched to his native tongue.
“Ne sais-du pas?” he asked her softly. Don’t you know?
Ghislaine shook her head. “Nay,” she replied in his language. “What has happened? Is he angry over something? He seemed upset.”
Gaetan shook his head. “He is,” he said. “With me.”
“Why?”
Gaetan looked at her, then. It was the perfect opportunity for him to say everything he wanted to say, everything he needed to say, and everything he was terrified to say. But if he didn’t do it now, there was no telling when he would have another opportunity. There might never be another chance like this.
Therefore, he summoned his courage.
Oh, he had told women he’d cared for them in the past. He’d even told one or two that he loved them, but he hadn’t meant it. He’d only done it as a means to an end. But to tell a woman he respected greatly, and wanted greatly, that he felt something for her… well, that wasn’t something he’d ever done before.
At thirty years and six, Gaetan was about to be truthful to himself and to a woman for the first time in his life. He wondered if he’d be able to survive the sheer strain of it.
It was time for honesty.
“Because it seems that Aramis has developed an affection for you,” he said quietly. “Have you not noticed how he is attentive towards you?”
Ghislaine’s brow furrowed as the shock of his words settled. Then, her eyebrows lifted in surprise when the full impact hit her. “He has?” she asked, her mouth hanging open. “But… I never… I never encouraged him or thought… oh, God’s Bones… he is fond of me?”
Gaetan could see her astonishment and, he thought, distaste. That didn’t make it any easier for him to say what he needed to say.
“Aye,” he said quietly. “But so has someone else.”
Her eyes widened with more astonishment. “Who?”
“Me.”
Ghislaine stared at him and her mouth, so recently hanging open in shock, now closed rapidly. Gaetan stared back at her, trying to read her expression, but he honestly couldn’t. He had no idea what she was thinking. He was becoming embarrassed about the entire thing but, now that he’d confessed, he may as well tell her everything.
He took a deep breath.
“I am called Warwolfe,” he said quietly. “I am the Duke of Normandy’s most prestigious knight and I lead a contingent of the greatest knights the world has ever seen. In action and in profession, there is no one more highly regarded than I am. I am the bastard son of a great warrior and descended from the House of Vargr, the kings of Breton. Additionally, I am a man of some wealth – not only have I inherited my father’s titles and lands, but from my maternal grandmother, I have inherited control of Lorient and her ports. The point is that I am a highly-regarded man of nobility with more money than most. There is great worth in that.”
Ghislaine was listening to facts that Jathan, long ago, had already told her. She knew all of this already, so it wasn’t a surprise. But her mind was so overwhelmed with the declaration that Gaetan was evidently romantically interested in her that Gaetan’s speech was entering one ear and going out the other. Blah, blah, blah…. He wasn’t telling her what she wanted to hear, what she was dying to hear. Her fluttering heart was pounding so dramatically that she was certain it was about to burst from her chest.
God, is it really true? She thought joyfully. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes.
“I know you are a man of great worth,” she finally said, her voice trembling with emotion. “Gaetan, wealth means nothing to me. It is the man beneath that means everything.”
Gaetan looked at her somewhat incredulously, thinking that it sounded like she was receptive to what he was saying. Tell her the rest, you fool!
“I do have great wealth, but there is something more you should know,” he said. Now, he was starting to stumble. “I am not married but I have… children. There are women I never married to who have provided me with children. I am not fond of these women but I will admit that I am a man who has taken comfort in women over the years. I even have women whose sole purpose in my household is to warm my bed. I am not proud of this but you must understand that I did not give thought to how a future wife might react to such things. I never thought I would marry and a wife was not of concern to me. Ghislaine, I realize that this situation might make you vastly uncomfortable and even ashamed, but I assure you, if you and I were to marry, there would only be one woman in my life, for the rest of my life, and that woman would be you.”
By the time Gaetan was finished, there was an expression on his face that Ghislaine had never seen before – something of hope and desperation, of a man who was as vulnerable as he’d ever been in his life. It was enough of an expression to soften Ghislaine completely but, more than that, he was admitting everything she’d ever hoped for. This strong and handsome man, a man she’d been attracted to since nearly the beginning of their association, was confessing things she’d never thought she’d hear from him. She blinked and tears spattered onto her pale cheeks.
“This is a dream,” she whispered. “It must be a dream because in my dreams is the only place you would ever say such things to me.”
Gaetan couldn’t tell, but he thought she might have been happy. He’d never been very good at reading women, but he thought she might – just might – be glad. A timid smile creased his lips.
“This is not a dream, I assure you,” he said softly. “But I will admit it is my biggest fear that you will not feel that I am worthy of you.”
She blinked again and more tears spilled. The brightest smile he’d ever seen nearly split her face
in two.
“My sweet darling,” she said earnestly. “I have never known a more worthy man. I know of your past and I know of the bedslaves. Aye, I have been told. But it is of no matter. If you say that I am to be the only woman in your life from now until forever, I believe you.”
He was elated to the point of feeling lightheaded. “Truly?”
“Truly.”
“Then may I know if anything I have said is agreeable to you?”
She laughed through her tears of joy. “Everything you said is agreeable,” she said. “Gaetan, do you know how long I have adored you? I cannot recall when I have not. Hearing you say such things… I simply cannot believe it.”
His smile turned bold and he reached out, cupping her sweet face in his two big hands. “It is true,” he said, his heart bursting with newfound joy. “I adore you as well, my little mouse. But knowing that you return these feelings… you cannot know how happy you have made me.”
“As you have made me, Gaetan.”
“Are you agreeable to marrying me, then?”
“Of course, my dearest. More than you know.”
With that, Ghislaine reached out, pulling him to her and Gaetan’s mouth descended upon hers, tasting her lips for the first time as she responded to him. He remembered those lips from before, when she’d been sleeping. But now, there was warmth and tenderness, a potency that surged through him like wildfire. He knew she’d been married before and, because of that, he knew she wasn’t a maiden, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t one, either. He kissed her deeply, completely uncaring that the old woman who had just finished wrapping the leg was a witness to his most private moment.
All he cared about was the moment itself.
But the old woman was being jostled around because Ghislaine’s leg was moving about as Gaetan’s big body overwhelmed her. The old woman thumped Gaetan on the hip because that was the body part nearest her.
“Caution, good lord,” she rasped in her strange Latin. “You must be cautious of the leg!”
Gaetan didn’t want to focus on the leg; he was right where he wanted to be, with Ghislaine’s face trapped in his hands and his mouth on hers. But he pulled his lips away from her long enough to snarl at the old woman.
“Get out,” he hissed. “Leave us.”
“Be cautious of the leg!”
“I will, I will. Now, get out!”
The old woman looked at him, pursing her lips unhappily, but she could see that she was both unwanted and unneeded. Moreover, the lady didn’t seem to be complaining about his rough treatment of her in the least. The old woman had done her job, at least for the moment, but she had a feeling the way the warrior and the lady were pawing at each other that those stitches might be torn out again before the day was finished. Surely, the lady was in pain but she didn’t seem to mind. When the old woman saw the warrior plunge his tongue into the lady’s mouth, she lurched to her feet with a shriek of disgust and fled her hut, slamming the door behind her.
Gaetan, his lips against Ghislaine’s, simply grinned.
“We are finally without our audience,” he murmured.
Ghislaine had her arms around his head, pulling the man down to her as if to never let him go.
“Excellent,” she breathed. “But Cam is still here.”
Gaetan could see the dog sleeping against the wall behind her. “He will pay no mind.”
“He’d better not.”
Her lips fused to his and Gaetan couldn’t help but notice she was being quite aggressive with him, which he loved. He never imagined her arms around him could feel as good as they did. The moment she touched him, it was like it was the very first time he’d ever been touched by a woman. Nothing could have been more pure or more welcome.
“I cannot believe we are finally alone,” he said as his teeth nibbled on her jawline. “I never thought we would have such a moment as this with all of those annoying men hanging around us as they do. Did they not know I have been wanting to do this to you for quite some time?”
She giggled, quickly cut off by a groan when he latched on to her tender neck. “How long?”
“Ages.”
“You were not thinking of doing this when you spanked me upon the field of battle those weeks ago.”
He started to laugh, but his passion was so strong that it came out as a choking sound. He simply couldn’t give attention to anything other than his want for her.
“Mayhap not, but you will forgive me. I do not usually consider the battlefield a place to seduce a woman.”
“I am not any woman.”
“God help me, you are not.”
Ghislaine didn’t want to talk anymore. She wanted him in the worst way and she moved to unfasten the leather belt that was around his waist. Gaetan knew immediately what she meant. He was overwhelmed by the fire in his veins, the strength of which he’d never experienced, but it was a fire he’d felt before. He knew this fire that fed his manhood, not to be quenched until he was releasing himself deep into a woman’s body, but he was genuinely concerned about doing anything like that with Ghislaine. She wasn’t someone cheap to be used on a whim. Even as she unfastened his belt, he tore his lips from hers and looked her in the eye.
“As much as I would like to take all of you, we must be cautious of your leg,” he said huskily. “Moreover… I did not tell you of my adoration for you simply to have my way with you. I told you because it was the truth.”
Ghislaine yanked the belt off and it fell to the floor of the hut, heavily, because of his scabbard. “I know,” she said breathlessly. “But I want you to touch me, Gaetan. I want to feel your hands upon my body. Will you make me beg, then?”
He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. “You will never have to beg me, ever.”
“Then prove it to me.”
He did.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
New Blood
Their hut was shaped like a cross, with a long room that served as both an eating room and a kitchen, and then two chambers off each side where family members slept. All of the girls were in one chamber while their father, now widowed these past few years, slept in the other.
Antillius’ cottage was cozy and well-kept thanks to three daughters who were as meticulous as their mother had been. This cottage was at least one hundred years old, probably more, built on the foundations of another cottage before it that had also stood for many years. The floor was hard-packed earth in the long room but in the bedchamber where Antillius slept, long ago, someone had laid down colored stones to make a mosaic. It was the portrait of a woman although no one knew exactly who the woman was. Antillius suspected it was another ancestor of his, for the woman was pale and fine-featured like he was.
Lygia, Verity, and Atia rushed into this neat little cottage on a mission. Old Pullum, the crone who was the physician of the village, had asked them to help a wounded woman, and help they would. There was very little excitement in their world so they were most eager for something new and different to accomplish, even if the lady had come with a contingent of several of the largest men they had ever seen. The men were dressed in sheets of metal, with big weapons hanging from their waists, and they were of curious interest to these isolated women.
Lygia, the eldest, was the taskmaster. She had seen twenty years and three, having lost her husband and infant daughter to a sickness two years before during a particularly bad winter. She’d moved back into the family home where her sisters, Verity and Atia, brought her some comfort. They were good sisters, even if they were a little flighty at times – Verity was tall, elegant, and with long copper curls, and Atia, the baby of the family at nineteen years, was a shorter, lighter-haired version of Lygia. But she was extremely bright, and helpful, and as Lygia gave the orders, Verity and Atia followed them precisely.
In the young women’s chamber, chests were opened and items brought forth. Lygia was rushing about, finding drying linens, while her sisters were pulling forth other things needed for cleaning. Linens in h
and, Lygia came to a halt in the midst of her rush.
“Why must the lady remain in Pullum’s cottage?” she asked thoughtfully. “Why can we not bring her here? Our chamber is big enough to accommodate her. I should not like to leave the lady with old Pullum.”
Verity had a bar of soft tallow soap in her hand that smelled heavily of the violets they harvested in the forest. “But Pater said we should help, not bring the lady to our home,” she reminded her. “She is an allii, after all.”
Lygia frowned at her sister. “She is a wounded woman who requires help,” she said firmly. “Are you so cruel that you would leave a her with Pullum and not try to take her away from that old witch?”
“Did you see those warriors?” Atia interrupted her sisters’ discussion with her rather dreamy question. “I have never seen men so tall and strong. Where do you suppose they come from? They do not look like Saxon warriors to me.”
Lygia could hear the wistfulness in her youngest sister’s tone. “It does not matter where they come from, dear Atia, because they are not for you,” she reminded her quietly. “Phirinius is your chosen one. He would not like it if you paid attention to another man.”
Atia frowned. “Phirinius is a boy. Those warriors… they are men!”
“And you will put them out of your mind,” Lygia scolded, waving an impatient hand at her sister. “Gather the wash for the hair and find some clean clothes we can lend to the lady. From what I saw, she was wearing rags.”
Unhappy that her conversation about the strange warriors was thwarted, Atia turned back to what she was doing, pulling forth all of the things they used when they bathed – a skin scraper to scrape away the dirt, precious oil from the almonds they collected and pressed last month, and flat ale to wash the hair. Holding up the phial of the almond oil, she looked at it in the light, noting just how much they had left.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 30
