The Northern Knights Series (Boxed Set)

by Amber Dane

  Darc had wanted to approach her many times during the past few days but had resisted the strong urge, especially with the many times she had given him her back…each time.

  God’s teeth! The woman was driving him mad! Being alone and brooding was what he sought, not affection from a haughty Saxon wench.

  He busied himself with intense focus on the village deaths. He had sent Edward to one of his manors not far away. He had a man he truly trusted there to keep an eye on the boy. Though the young soldier had pronounced his confession a second time, Darc knew it was forced and that he was not behind Cedric’s murder.

  The real traitor was still in his troop. And he would discover who it was.

  On the murders nothing, the trail in the woods had led to a dead end. The scouts he’d sent out came back with nothing to report.

  And his wife. She glanced in his direction now and Darc scowled and walked away. As much as he hated to do it or even think it, he had to make things right.

  Later that evening Caroline walked into her chamber to see Kelbie’s bed empty and thinking he was still with Mildred in the other room she turned to walk in that direction, then froze when something glimmered out of the corner of her vision drawing her to it.

  On the chest next to the lit single tallow candle sat her father’s ring. Hesitantly she reached out for it then drew her hand back. She’d not touched it or felt it in so long.

  The gold band, the onyx jewel on which sat her gold crest glittered under the low candlelight and firelight. Caroline picked it up and noticed that her hands shook badly. Anguish flooded her heart and she let out a heart rendering gasp which almost choked her. She closed her fist over the ring.

  Pain lanced her chest and opening her eyes she spied the dark figure sitting back in the shadows on the bench. She knew who it was before the shadow unfolded and stood. She faced him.

  ‘So you will not turn your back on me this night?’ His deep timbre filled the room. She stared at him, saying nothing. Darc approached and stopped scarcely a hairsbreadth from her. ‘I am sorry.’

  Her response was a sob-filled croak. He swept her up into his arms and stood there holding her. He thought she would resist him, but she did not and though her tears of grief bothered him, he held her whilst she wept.

  When she had regained her composure she pushed away from him and he let her.

  He watched her as she set the ring back where she had found it. She came back to him and said in a low voice. ‘We both need to work on trust. No good will come of this union without it.’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Had I but trusted you when you gave your pledge to handle Cedric…’ Caroline’s voice trailed off as she stared into his eyes.

  ‘It is over. Do I have your trust and… forgiveness now, Caroline?’

  She gave him a positive nod. ‘There is one thing that works well between us without words and ‘tis this.’ She pressed a hand against his chest, leaned up and pecked his lips in a hasty kiss. ‘I need you this night, husband.’

  Darc did not move and let her pull his head down for another sweet and longer kiss. He’d not come for this, not that he did not want it. He did in the worst way.

  He enfolded her into his arms and returned her kiss.

  The warmth his large body provided calmed her and the friction of her nipples against his tunic was sweet. She moved and her sensitive flesh sent waves of pleasure right to her center. Caroline moaned and buried her face into his chest when he stopped kissing her.

  She wanted all of his body heat and wound her arms around his middle as far as they would go. Passion shook her and the force of it made her tremble as much as it scared her.

  She struggled to breath. Why did she fight it? His hardness against her belly strained for release.

  ‘Do you have a chill, wife?’

  Even his deep voice rumbled in his chest against her ear and stirred her loins; she could not help but place her feet over his booted ones and stand on her toes to kiss his throat. She had a chill aright, but ‘twas being in his arms which had set the gooseflesh to rise up on her skin. She wriggled against him. ‘Aye.’

  His big arms pulled her tighter against him and with his lips pressed softly to her temple, he murmured, ‘Hold on.’

  He drew one of her legs up and drew off one of her slippers. It brought her middle over his erection and the groan rolled across her tongue out of her mouth as she pressed her forehead against him. Then he did the same to the other but this time he rubbed her against him. Caroline’s head fell back.

  He kissed the few tears that slipped from her closed lids away. ‘Look at me.’

  She did and he lowered her leg. Still on the tip of her toes atop his he walked with her to the bed until she felt the back of it touch her thighs.

  His fingers flicked her erect nipple through the material of her gown and Caroline could not stop her groan as she clutched at his tunic.

  ‘I love your nipples, Caroline. They are delightfully and positively sinful.’

  She sighed heavily with want. He pressed her back down on the bed and lifted her gown. He was still fully dressed as she and she did not care.

  He removed nearly all that she wore within minutes and she grabbed his head in both her hands when he made love tenderly to her sensitive breasts.

  ‘Give yourself to me like you did before. I want to watch you.’

  His hot mouth worked its intense magic and when his mouth captured her left nipple, Caroline screamed, biting her lip as she climaxed. This time he slipped a finger inside her to feel it.

  She wept with her release and Darc knew it was because of her past and everything that had happened in the past month. An odd sensation tightened within his chest.

  He gathered her close and rolled with her in his arms across the bed. He rose up betwixt her thighs and tore off his belt, his overtunic and when he moved to release his hose. She stopped him.

  ‘Nay. Do not.’

  His thighs pressed against hers and she squirmed under him until every inch of their bodies touched.

  ‘Caroline.’ Darc breathed on a hot breath near her mouth.

  Carline gave in to the delightful feelings coursing through her with wild abandonment. She writhed and unfurled like a wild vixen beneath him.

  Tonight she wanted, needed something different and she knew what it was. She wanted to give all of herself. And she wanted him to give her everything.

  ‘Give me you, Darc.’

  He stiffened for a moment above her until she touched his swollen and hot member. He sucked in a breath on a deep groan.

  By the time he joined their bodies she cast aside all restraints and let their pleasurable and almost painful joining have its way with her.

  He matched her for all she gave and she watched him back as he looked at her in amazement as she screamed her pleasure many times through the night over and over whilst she clawed his back, shoulders and sucked at his neck.

  When she reached her release each time, he roared and whispered sweet words of his delight in her exclamatory enjoyment.

  Her show of wild passion as she took from him nigh wore him thin, but even so, Darc withdrew each time to spend his final release. He did not miss the sadness in her eyes throughout the night or the lines of her frown around her ruby lips when she was not screaming.

  He felt it down to his toes that something had changed not only in her this night, but him. Without words they had said so much. Much he knew on the morrow he had to get away from. But for tonight, he would give her what she sought from him, the comfort. At least as much of it as he could.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Raven’s wrath shook every nerve in his body as he paced along the raised dais. Dawn was just shedding light through the openings of the big shack. At least the rats would not be about this morning and he could think. He gripped the hilt of his sword with his other hand balled in a fist. He shot a glance in the direction of the two guards who had arrived when it was still dark.

  ‘W
e did not use it all, my lord. There is still enough left and..’ the tall guard stopped speaking when his shorter comrade next to him gave him a furious look and placed a vial on the table near the dais.

  ‘And what?’ Raven asked angrily. ‘I did not give you that to tell me of dead horned beasts! How did this happen?’

  ‘My-My lord, we- I was testing it. Just wanted to try it out. A bit of innocent foolery if you will.’ the tall guard chuckled lightly.

  Raven narrowed his gaze on him, seething. ‘Testing it, eh?’ His lips tilted up at one corner.

  Feeling a bit of relief at seeing the lord’s smile, the tall guard carried on a bit loudly with his explanation. ‘Just was having myself a bit of fun, my lord. It worked. They were dead within a few hours. He has several teams left. Methinks he will hardly miss ‘em.’

  Raven stopped pacing and glanced at the shorter man then he turned and poured wine from a clay jug into two cups and a goblet. He waved the men forth to come share in drink.

  The short one hesitated, pushing the tall one forward first. Raven grinned, eyes cold and handed the short man his cup first. Raven picked up the cup for the tall guard along with the vial.

  ‘Think you this concoction I have just lying about to drain from whenever I see fit does not come at a hefty price? This takes careful planning. A will of strong patience your simple mind could not imagine or ever possess. Now that I’ve lost precious time over your testing and bit of foolery along with that Saxon’s lust. I have had to make a few changes.’

  ‘My lord?’

  Raven poured half the liquid from the vial into the cup and gave it a hearty shake, swirling the mixture. ‘Your drink.’ he said with relish and handed the tall guard the cup.

  Eyes wide, the guard backed away but the mildew covered walls at his back blocked his retreat as did the tip of Raven’s sword now at the side of his neck. There was no escape.

  ‘Drink it.’ Raven ordered.

  ‘My lo-lord, please.’ Heedless of the tears now streaming down his face, his body shaking the tall guard looked to his comrade, then his wide horror-filled gaze returned to Raven. The lord had poured more into his cup than he’d used to kill the oxen. ‘I swear on my dead mother’s soul I will do whatever I need to- to make things right.’

  Raven was nodding his head ere the man finished. ‘I know. I know you will. You are making things right this very moment.’ Raven let his blade pierce the skin under the man’s right ear drawing blood.

  The guard spilled most of the drink as his shaking hands took the cup from Raven. Not changing his stance, Raven spoke to the shorter guard. ‘Help him drink. Hold the cup.’

  In a matter of seconds it was over.

  The tall guard twitched in the throes of excruciating death on the dais.

  Raven gave him one last look, disgusted and said. ‘Fast. Efficient. I have not hours to wait for it to be effective. How was that bit of foolery?’ He turned and walked away.

  The short guard swallowed, his eyes moving between Raven and his dying comrade.

  Satisfied, Raven sat down in the big chair which sat in the corner and took a leisurely sip from his own goblet. ‘This soldier that took the blame for the Saxon’s death, where is he now?’

  The short guard said hurriedly, ‘He took him to his small manor near Durham. There is naught to worry about. The boy will stick to his story.’

  ‘Nay. There is. My brother is no fool. It is why he removed him from the castle. For safety. Time is running out. And I will have my revenge. The boy?’

  The short guard shook his head. ‘Not yet, my lord. Too many guards. But once things calm I can get him. I am sure of it.’

  Raven nodded. ‘Well, time may not be on my side for that now. So, come. Time to discuss my change of plans and move this along with haste.’

  He sat the half empty vial on the table next to him and covered it with a slip of red cloth.

  After he dismissed the guard, Raven sat for a long while in the chair lost in his musings of plotting and his many schemes of the past and future ones yet to come.

  His latest attempt to finish a job he’d started years ago, to murder his brother’s close friend and another of William’s favored knights, Rourke Thorsson, The Dark Axe had failed.

  Raven would not forget the second mark he’d left on him. Rourke had survived miraculously. The spies he’d sent forth scouting for him had talked too much and too loud wherever they stopped and his own men had gotten word back to him of it. Raven shrugged. It mattered not. After he tore his brother’s life apart, he would return and finish what he’d started with Rourke, including killing his Saxon bitch.

  He’d managed the taking of that animal with the help of another Lord whom had it in for the Dark Axe. That the old lord had been so easy to manipulate in getting him to pay for all Raven needed in his plan to rid himself of his foes had worked to his benefit. He had been paid handsomely by Lord Richard Hartley so much so that he’d practically left the once wealthy nobleman all but next to penniless in the end. The old bitter fool. Lord Hartley’s death…well, that was the cost of doing business and having the knowhow of who to trust.

  Raven smiled as the images of what had happened in the man’s dungeon flashed before his eyes. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. The smell of Rourke’s singed flesh was something he never wanted to forget.

  Lord Hartley’s money had all but dwindled down to a mere handful of coins now, which the last of it if he was lucky would get him a fresh tunic and a horse one step up from a jackass to reach his brother’s land.

  But do it he would.

  Raven was angry that William forced his hand, forced him to be second best to his brother. Fealty my arse. I am not just as good as my brother. I am better and have always been, Raven fumed inside.

  Yet William had sent Darc everywhere, all the riches he’d received for doing the king’s bidding, riding alongside Rourke and the final nail in his coffin, Aric Claydon- should have been his. All of them had been against him. Even as children, the three had whispered in corners, kept things from him and conspired against him so they could be favorable in William’s eyes. But now he would take and enjoy his revenge.

  He’d done his part just as well as Darc if not better. He’d given William the Dark Axe. All but created that immortal bastard. Raven’s promises of a bright future ended long before his attack on William’s prized long arm of the north of England.

  The violent acts committed across the countryside acting on his own orders and done in his brother’s name were nothing to be ashamed of. He’d helped give the beast his name. He should have been given his own throne.

  He was not as crazed others believed.

  He would die for his crimes, this Raven knew, if not before the disease robbed him of seeing his vengeance come to fruition. But he’d be damned to eternity if he did not take those responsible for the cruel blow he’d been dealt down to hell with him.

  Fortune and power would not be his. So why should they keep it?

  His one and only true love… Darc had taken that from him too.

  Adelay.

  His brother thought him incapable of love. Hell, he’d thought so at one point till he had met the sultry Goddess that was Adelay.

  That he did not love her near the end was insignificant. He had loved her for a time. When it had counted.

  Raven spit out the phlegm that clogged the back of his throat and rose from the chair. He shot a gaze at the naked backside of the woman in his bed.

  Glad he’d not had to pay out for her charms. Good looks and being a great lover was all it took for most eager wenches to crawl into his bed. She was proof of that. He turned from the ruddy patch on the curve of her slim hip and sat on the side of the bed, reaching for a pelt covering. Rourke’s words came back to him. ‘Live the life of a Libertine, die like one.’

  That the wench’s body was already showing the signs of his infection bothered him not. She had thrown herself at him.

  Raven scratched a mark on his
thigh and turned his neck this way and that until the burn of the satisfactory crack gave.

  His heart cradled one thing.

  Vengeance against his brother.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  When she woke, Caroline stretched with a satisfied moan. Her body was languid and relaxed. Darc was gone from her bed. She flung back the bed linen and could smell their musk of sex on the bedding. She kept her back to the two buxom maids that came with Mildred to take the bedding away.

  She had slept late for Kelbie had already broken his fast with Laur and was ready for his lesson when she finally came below stairs and sat down for her meal.

  Last night had changed her and she felt it. Something she could not name flooded her brain and thoughts.

  She had hidden the ring in a pouch and tucked it away in one of her trunks.

  She noticed that their passionate night had not changed Darc as soon as he entered to partake in the noonday meal. His dark mood was all over his face and in his stance.

  Where was the insatiable, skilled and passionate lover of last night?

  He looked at her then and she blushed as if he could read her thoughts. Her hand shook slightly when she placed the cup of wine back on the table. The look he seared her with made her really think indeed he had heard her thoughts.

  Caroline smiled at her wayward thoughts and he scowled and wiped at the corners of his mouth with the long cloth, before taking a long drink from his own chalice of wine. Save for the shuffling feet of the servants moving about, the hall was all but quiet and his deep voice shattered it.

  ‘Kelbie starts his training on the morrow.’

  Caroline choked on the watered down wine still in her mouth. She dabbed at her mouth with her own cloth.

  She eyed him with discontent for she knew he spoke the truth.