by Julia Latham
Surely this was his squire.
Bannaster peered about him, his smile growing as if in amusement, and he finally nodded. “Aye, Henry. I’ll go with you. Strangely enough, I’m feeling rather tired. I think I drank too much.”
Elizabeth blinked in surprise as Bannaster turned about and followed his squire from the hall. She received several friendly good-nights as people dispersed for the night. She could only smile her thanks and try to hold back tears. They had all helped rescue her.
She tried to step away from John, but his arm tightened, and he spoke in a low voice against her ear. “He will try that again.”
“I think not. He saw the way everyone had gathered around him.” But she knew she could not count on that.
“Anne—”
“Shh.” She turned about in his arms, patted his chest and stepped away from him. “I have to take a meal up to Lady Elizabeth.”
“I will come with you.”
“Nay. I will speak to Adalia and thank her for what she did. I’m sure she’ll accompany me.”
“But if you run into Bannaster—”
“And if you were at my side, you would try to solve the problem with force.”
“I am a knight!” he said in a low, harsh voice.
“And you would have gotten yourself killed or banished. Do you think I want that?”
He opened his mouth, but no words came as he blinked down at her in surprise.
“Now let me go. I promise I will be escorted.”
“For as long as he’s here.”
“Aye, I promise. And then I need to speak with you. I’ll come to your bedchamber.”
Elizabeth tried not to think about the speculative look in John’s eyes as he nodded. She would tell him of the desperate plan that had begun forming in her mind when Bannaster had tried to force himself on her. It was the only way she could think of to solve her dilemma without involving an attack by her army.
Chapter 18
John paced his bedchamber, avoiding the bathing tub with its steaming water. He’d forgotten to cancel his request; the water would just have to grow cold.
Philip packed a satchel.
“I regret having to send you away,” John said.
Philip grinned and shrugged. “Lady Elizabeth needs you.”
“Only because she has something urgent she needs to tell me,” he insisted.
“Of course,” Philip said lightly. “And what will be the excuse tomorrow night?”
John couldn’t protest. He wanted Elizabeth safe, and that meant staying with him, if he could convince her. But to Philip, he said, “I cannot see farther than tonight. Where will you go?”
“I’ll sleep in the great hall. I’ve slept in worse places, as you know.”
“You have my gratitude.”
Philip laughed and shook his head. “Maybe I’ll request my own chamber from the captain of the guard. I am his assistant and clerk.”
Not for the first time, John found himself wishing that he were the one without the “broken” leg. He missed the excitement of training, of pitting his skills against a worthy opponent. Sometimes he just wished he could challenge Bannaster and be done with it. But of course the king might have a problem with that….
And Elizabeth as well. She wanted Alderley to be the most important thing in their lives. And it was, for now. What would happen when everything was peaceful and placid and…the same, day in and day out?
Focusing on Philip again, John said, “And has your position among the soldiers helped us in any way?”
“Someday, perhaps. But right now, all it has told me is that as in any troop of soldiers, there are mostly good men just doing their duty, and there are a few bad men who enjoy making trouble.”
“Did you see Alderley’s army?”
Philip shook his head. “Parker told me that they are roughly one hundred strong. If you have them on your side, you should be able to retake the castle.”
“If I have them on my side. And as for taking the castle, I might have to do it without the lady’s permission. I’m not sure my wedding night will be a happy one. But I am grateful for your help.”
Philip walked to the door. “And what else would I be doing were I not here? Selling my sword arm to the highest bidder?”
“Instead you lent it to me for free,” John said.
Philip rolled his eyes, saluted a good-night, and left the chamber. And John continued pacing. He knew that Elizabeth would probably linger with her lady’s maid, telling her what had transpired. But it seemed an abnormally long time before he heard a soft knock on the door. He threw it open and found her standing there alone.
“You promised me you would be escorted,” he said, pulling her inside and closing the door behind her.
“I was, but I sent Adalia away just now. John, Bannaster cannot even be awake, so inebriated was he.”
He closed his eyes to control his temper. “Elizabeth, the soldiers are all his. He could have you summoned before him with just a word. I am bothered by how little you care for yourself. From now on, you are sleeping here, where I can protect you.”
He was ready for her protest, but instead she squared her shoulders. “That works well with my plan.”
“Plan?” he echoed suspiciously.
“I told you that I would think of one, and I have.” She swallowed and met his gaze gravely.
To his surprise, she unwrapped her wimple and tossed it onto a table. Her unbound hair spilled down around her shoulders and breasts. Pulling it over one shoulder, she reached behind her neck and began loosening the laces of her gown.
The dark place deep inside him, where he forced his desire into check, now began to unfurl and spread its heat through him.
“What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely, unable to stop himself from watching the bodice of her gown begin to sag.
“I can no longer risk remaining a virgin,” she said impassively. “You must take me to bed, so Bannaster won’t be a threat.”
He had thought she would need comfort this night from the fright of Bannaster’s attack, but she was too strong for that. And with her offer, she was going to prove him the weakest of men, for he could not imagine refusing her.
He felt like a statue, so unable to move was he. With not a trace of emotion on her face, she stepped out of her gown, to reveal her long-sleeved linen smock, gathered high about her neck. She sat down on a stool to remove her shoes and stockings. He swallowed as he glimpsed the smooth slopes of her legs when she removed her garters. Then she walked to his bed and climbed in, pulling the coverlet to her waist, but leaving an edge turned down invitingly.
For him.
A part of him wanted to tear off all his clothing and join her, showing her just how much passion he would bring to their marriage. He could never imagine tiring of her, of her spirit and courage, and even her need to lead him. He would do whatever she told him to do—in bed. And she would finally have proof of how much she really wanted him. No more of her foolish wish for a distant, romantic courtship.
His gaze traveled from the hint of her breasts within the delicate smock, up her throat—to her pale face. Suddenly her brown eyes seemed frightened, vulnerable, but only for a moment, and then determination filled them once again.
How could he begin the intimacy of their marriage with the future bride feeling forced, capitulating only as a last resort?
John sighed heavily, knowing he would have to ignore the painful ache of his erection. His nightly bath would be a cold one.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and tried not to wince at how she stiffened. “Nay, Elizabeth, sweetling, not like this.”
She frowned at him. “What do you mean? Are you so bothered by the fact that it is my idea?”
He smiled. “Nay, your suggestion was a valid one—deeply appreciated, you may be certain. But we’ll find another way.”
She looked shocked. “But…every man has always wanted me, and what marriage to me brings to him.”
“Trust me, Elizabeth, this man wants you badly, and I don’t give a damn about what property you bring me. But I want to find an honorable solution, one you’re not forced into.”
She looked away, her shoulders slumped. “It has not always been a good thing, to be so wanted.”
He said nothing, hoping she’d continue to talk.
“When I was ten years old,” she began in a low voice, “just before I came to Rame Castle, an old friend of my father visited, and brought his young son with him. I was used to meeting eligible boys; I didn’t mind knowing that my father would pick someone for me. I trusted his choices. But…for the previous year, the fathers had become more insistent, the sons kept trying to get me alone to play, and although that was all we did, it was as if…they were being told to do it. The earldom was a powerful lure, even though the king had not settled on how it would pass beyond my father. But we thought we could trust this old family friend. It was a relief to be with him and his son.”
John wanted to hold her, sensing that the story would not have a happy ending, but Elizabeth seemed lost in her memories.
“He was going to take his son and me on an outing to a nearby pond and back. I was thrilled to be showing off my riding skills, as well as getting away from the tension of the castle. We always had guests trying to convince my father to give me in marriage to them. But before I mounted my horse, something seemed…wrong. I was only ten, but even I could see that the horses’ saddle bags seemed rather full for a simple ride.”
John nodded. “He was going to take you away?”
“He never admitted it to my father,” she said softly, “even when his bags were searched. He kept insisting that he and his son were leaving afterward, and he’d just prepared in advance, but no one believed him.”
“What did your father think he meant to do?”
“Blackmail?” She shuddered. “Or something even more sinister that had nothing to do with his son. His wife had recently died.”
“Elizabeth, that was a terrible ordeal for a child to go through.”
She tried to smile. “But it was the direct reason my parents decided to send me to your family.”
“And I wager there are days you’re not so happy that that happened,” he said dryly.
“Nay, the immediate result was wonderful. I came home, and for a long time Alderley seemed peaceful. I enjoyed myself for many years.”
“Until your parents died?”
Nodding, she said, “And once again, everyone wants to own me.”
Elizabeth felt an ache deep in her heart that never quite went away, no matter how hard she forced it down. They had tried to protect her from the world, and now there was no one between her and the men who fought over her. She was so sick of feeling helpless, and had hoped tonight to take matters into her own hands.
But John was being honorable and noble, though she could see in the tight lines of his face what it cost him. He was a man who’d returned home to do his duty by his family and found himself alone, with few resources. The respect for his family name was gone, regardless of who had caused it. He had spent years building a reputation in Europe, to no avail. Though he was a man who hid his own pain, there was a haunting, answering look in his eyes that called to her, made her want to make things better for him.
She found herself reaching up to touch his face. He went utterly still, his eyes closed, his expression for a moment twisting with tension, then smoothing out with understanding. When she leaned in and kissed him, his lips parted, and he shuddered.
“Elizabeth.” His spoke against her mouth, his voice full of subtle warnings.
“Just a kiss,” she murmured, kissing his top lip, his bottom lip, and then sucking on it gently. “How will I learn not to fear what happens between a husband and wife?”
She knew that he let her lead, and she felt a quiet thrill. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss, her tongue circling his lips before darting inside and retreating. She put her hands on his, felt the way his were fisted in the bedclothes. Stroking them gently, she hoped to ease his spirit, but he was a man, and already she was learning that they were unalike. She only seemed to fire his passion, for with a groan, he caught her hand and pressed it flat against his chest, where she could feel the pounding of his heart. She had a flash of memory, from when he had touched her body in the same place, and it made her shiver.
His hand slid over her hip, though it was covered in blankets. Up higher, indenting on her waist, over her ribs, skimming up the side of her breast.
She broke the kiss and gazed questioningly into his eyes, unable to control her breathing.
“Let me show you some of what you came for tonight, sweetling,” he murmured, kissing her cheek, nibbling her earlobe. “I promise that I still believe we should wait for everything that marriage entails, but ah…the taste of you makes me ache to show you more.”
She nodded silently, knowing that he would keep his word. But as the power of their attraction rose higher inside her, she began to wonder if even her own vows mattered next to the flame of desire. She couldn’t resist it, and it frightened her; but he was kissing her mouth ever deeper, mating with her tongue, tugging at the lace that held the gathering of her smock.
And she wanted him to; she wanted to be overwhelmed, to forget.
The smock loosened and began a slow slide down her shoulders; still he kissed her, pressed his hand against her back, urging her ever closer. His mouth took a torturous path down her neck, as he licked and nipped, then circled the hollow at the base of her throat with his tongue. With both hands he lifted her up until she was kneeling on the bed, though he yet sat. In this position he didn’t need to bend over her. He was eye level as her smock clung for a moment to her nipples, and then fell to her waist.
He inhaled deeply, staring at her. “You are perfection,” he murmured.
She didn’t know how to feel, what to do, only knew that it was heavenly to be worshiped by what she saw in his eyes.
He pressed his mouth between her breasts; the brush of his hair and the roughness of his whiskers teased her with pleasure and pain. He held her like that, and she finally allowed herself to thread her fingers through his soft hair, as she’d longed to do. With a roll of his shoulders, he growled his pleasure.
And then he began to move, tasting her skin, pressing light kisses along the rising slope of her breast. Her need rose just as high, only to subside in frustration, when his teasing kisses slid another way instead of finding the peak.
He tormented her like this for several minutes, until finally a moan escaped her. Only then did he seem to have what he wanted, for he cupped one breast gently, then gave it a long lick of his tongue.
It made her convulse in an overpowering shudder; yet he held her still and continued inexorably, licking her as if she were marzipan candy. When his mouth moved to the other breast, he used his fingers on the first, and the twin sensations were like nothing she’d ever felt before. There was a fire deep in her belly that was stoked by everything he did. Her smock was caught on her lower arms, and she longed to free herself of the last of the garments, to give him what he desired.
But would it be her choice? Or his will?
He finally suckled her, taking her deep into his mouth, so that she barely felt him lift her smock from behind until a draft caressed her buttocks a moment before his fingers did. His other hand slid down her front, cupping the most intimate part of her through the garment.
When she stiffened, he murmured her name as if she were a wild cat he needed to soothe. He was petting her, stroking her, reaching to tease her from behind. She would have fallen bonelessly onto the bed if he had not held her up, so unable was she to understand the way he controlled her, the sensations that coursed through her body.
And then his bare hand slid up her thigh, beneath her smock and he touched her without the barrier of clothing between them. His fingers played her effortlessly, as if he knew all the secrets. She was lost, unknowing, feeling a rising panic ben
eath the layers of heat and passion. His fingers moved deeper, and she realized her body moistened his passage. His mouth teased her breasts, while his fingers circled and teased and plucked below. She found herself stiffening, waiting, almost begging for him to give her what she needed.
And it came over her so suddenly, that she arched back with it, lost in the overwhelming convulsion. Her only awareness was him, with his hands and his mouth claiming her, possessing her, giving her this release so steeped in pleasure.
He lowered her back on the bed, and she lay still and stared up at him in wonder and growing unease. This was a powerful connection between them. She wondered if she would do something desperate to feel this again. Her mind was no longer her own; had she been seduced by his will?
He watched her face, and she saw the quiet understanding in his eyes. Without speaking, he gently pulled her smock up to cover her nakedness, then brought the coverlet up to her waist. Somehow this was worse, because she knew he sacrificed his own pleasure to show her just the beginnings of intimacy.
“Sleep,” he whispered.
And suddenly she wanted to be tired, to close her eyes and not see his face anymore. She had no control when she looked upon him, and it frightened her. She lowered her lids.
But she wasn’t sleepy, not really. She felt…invigorated, different, and her mind whirled trying to understand all the new sensations that her body experienced. She heard John moving about, and she realized that she didn’t know where he would sleep—on Philip’s pallet on the floor? With her?
That thought sent another quiver through her. She had to know. She opened her eyes the tiniest bit, looking at the chamber through her lashes. She saw John immediately, for he stood near the bathing tub.
To her shock, he was removing his clothing.
Of course he would, she told herself. He could not sleep in all of his garments. But then she realized that he might be planning to bathe.
She slammed her eyes shut again, mortified to intrude on such a private thing.
But hadn’t he just touched the most private parts of her? All she was going to do was look.
