by Sherry Ewing
“Come on and join us, Em,” Katherine called out. “Think of it as line dancing.”
Line dancing? What the bloody hell is line dancing? Riorden wondered. Apparently, Lady Emily thought the proposition of this line dancing had some merit as she all but ran around the table with Tiernan in tow.
“You’ll have to show me the steps, Tiernan,” Emily laughed brightly.
“’Twill be my pleasure, my lady,” he replied enthusiastically.
At least someone was looking forward to the prospect of holding his lady, since ’twas obvious Katherine wanted nothing to do with him. Riorden fumed. He scowled watching the couple make their way to the middle of the floor. He was still unsure how he felt about a prisoner having free access to the castle when he should be residing in its pit. He put the fault with Katherine and Emily who had convincingly pleaded Tiernan’s cause upon their arrival at Berwyck. Riorden would not gainsay Dristan’s decision, since he was lord here, but that did not mean he had to agree with what he felt was an error in judgment.
The minstrels strummed their lutes, and lilting music commenced to fill the hall. Riorden viewed, with a frown, each step Katherine took as Fletcher maneuvered her through the difficult steps of the dance. Her movements were awkward, at first, until she began to catch on to the pattern. Their hands touched. His mood soured. Fletcher lifted her high by the waist, circling sure-footed whilst he held her with her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. Riorden fingered his dirk that had somehow found its way from his boot to his hand. She threw her head back with a look of sheer pleasure and serenity etched upon her features. He had never seen her look more beautiful.
Riorden reached for his chalice, noticed ’twas empty, and motioned for more wine. Once filled, he took a long sip. He knew he was being unreasonable, yet had no idea how to stop the jealousy coursing through his head. The longer the music played, the fouler his mood became as he watched his woman being given to Nathaniel, another of Dristan’s guards. His torture did not stop, when yet another took his place during the following song. Merde! Was the whole damn garrison going to take a turn about the floor with his lady?
’Twas not until he witnessed Fletcher cutting in for another dance that Riorden’s patience came to an end. He stood, slamming his chalice onto the table. But ’twas Dristan’s muffled laughter that had him sit his sorry arse back down and call for more wine. His eyes peered over the rim of his cup, never leaving his lady, who appeared to be the happiest he had ever seen her. His brow furrowed when, after another dance, Fletcher came to sit beside him now that Amiria had vacated the seat to see to her infant.
“A most remarkable woman, Riorden,” he exclaimed cheerfully. “I wonder if she would favor my suit.”
“You would be wise to forget such a notion,” Riorden warned, placing his dagger on the table. Fletcher burst into laughter and slapped him on his back.
“’Tis about damn time you have become smitten with a fair lady. I never thought to see you, of all people, Riorden, besotted with jealousy over some maiden you just met. I must admit, ’tis quite comical.”
“Glad I could amuse you so,” Riorden mumbled. He continued his perusal of Katherine whilst it seemed his premonition would come to pass that Dristan’s entire personal guard was to take a turn with his lady. ’Twas not until another knight escorted her about the floor that Riorden became concerned. He did not recognize the young man, and he scowled, watching the unfamiliar lad place his hands lower than Katherine’s waist. “Who is that scoundrel?”
Fletcher’s eyes scanned the room until his gaze landed on the spectacle causing Riorden’s growing unease. “There are a few new knights here who have come begging to be trained by the Devil’s Dragon. Dristan is still considering their worth or if he shall be wasting his time. From the look your lady is casting her newest partner, he would be wise to rethink his dancing techniques. I think your fair lady is about to take off his limb, if he reaches any lower.”
“Excuse me,” Riorden exclaimed briskly. His chair practically fell over in his eagerness to give aid to Katherine.
Afore he could reach her side, a scuffle arose between the untactful knight and another trying to lay claim to his lady. The two men began to push each other, and Katherine landed in an undignified heap upon the floor. Her skirts tangled about her legs whilst she tried unsuccessfully to move out of the way of the ensuing fight. Fury blazed in Riorden’s eyes as he began pushing others from his path to reach her. She managed to finally rise as the two men now let fists fly. They tumbled to the floor amidst grunts of pain, from punches that met their marks.
Riorden crossed the distance between them, and Katherine flung herself into his arms. He felt her rapid breathing whilst he held her close and murmured words of comfort. Her body trembled, and he tightened his arms around her.
To add to the mayhem occurring in Dristan’s hall, the keep’s door unexpectedly flung wide with a resounding bang. With its opening, a flood of rain forced its way into the Great Hall, soaking the floor. Four drenched travelers stood in the portal, looking towards the warmth of the nearby fire. They began to make their way in that direction when one let out a fierce cry.
Danior pushed back his hood from his face, pulled free his sword from its scabbard, and stood there, in self-righteous anger. Then he made straight for Tiernan, as if possessed. The women in the hall screamed. Emily and Juliana shrieked the loudest. He had almost reached his destination when everyone came to a screeching halt at Dristan’s loud, commanding bellow to cease and desist.
Dristan passed his son back to Amiria, who quickly ascended up the curved stairs of the tower. His fury-filled gaze swept the inhabitants of his hall, much like the storm inflicting itself upon the land outside his keep. Those with the most sense cleared away from the middle of the floor and the chaos that had erupted in but a matter of seconds.
“It appears that the festivities are over for the eve,” Dristan’s voice boomed as he crossed the floor to face the angry man afore him. “Danior, you and your company are of course welcome here at Berwyck. But Cavanaugh has proven his worth to me in the lists and we have come to an amicable accord. I will have you know that I have formally accepted his presence here as a guest. As such, he is under my protection and is not to be harmed,” Dristan announced firmly.
“But, my lord−” Danior sputtered as his rain soaked cloak puddled beneath his feet. His gaze narrowed and thoughts of betrayal were clearly apparent on his visage when he saw Emily’s hand clutched, with familiarity, in his enemy’s.
Dristan held up his hand to cease Danior’s words. “There is much to discuss, and discuss it we shall, but on the morrow, in my solar, after you and your party have rested.” He held eye contact with Danior ‘til the knight acquiesced, bowing his head.
Riorden continued to hold Katherine as her friends quickly came over to gather near her. Despite the tension in the room, ’twas clear to all present, by their joyful, yet concerned chatter, that the four ladies were happy to be reunited. They grasped each other’s hands, looked at one another with relief, and hugged each other in gratitude.
“Your journey has been long and conditions harsh.” Dristan addressed the two drenched, weary knights. “The women look exhausted. Rest now.” He motioned to a servant, who led the way as Brianna and a shaken Juliana slowly followed up the stairs to rooms that would be prepared for them. Danior, though still exasperated, along with Gavin, reluctantly trailed close behind them.
The disturbance quelled, Dristan’s eyes fell upon the shaking woman Riorden held tenderly in his arms. Dristan held out his hand. “Lady Katherine,” he called out.
Riorden felt her heavy sigh against his chest and the gentle caress of her hand on his own, afore she reluctantly tore herself from his grasp.
“My lord?” Katherine whispered as she stood before the furious Devil’s Dragon.
“It seems necessary for me to take matters into my own hands where you are concerned, my lady.” He tucked her hand upon his elbow, as if
taking possession of her. “You, too, shall be under my protection. Such a precious treasure should not be left alone where those unworthy of her may think she is available to their every whim,” Dristan looked directly at the two men who had been fighting over her and watched in satisfaction as they lowered their eyes.
“You are too kind, my Lord Dristan,” Katherine answered in a soft murmur.
Dristan patted her hand as though she was now a part of his family. His gaze then went to Riorden. “Hopefully, your knight over there will begin to realize the worth of having a woman such as yourself as his own. He would be wise to not allow past memories, along with petty differences that are of no worth at present, to cloud his better judgment and get the best of him.”
Afore Riorden could form any sort of a response, he watched in disappointment as Katherine was led up the tower stairs. Lightning struck, and seconds later, thunder boomed across the land, as if God above was voicing his own form of displeasure at Riorden’s foolishness. Come the morn, he vowed he would not make the same mistakes, ever again.
Chapter 27
Katherine sat before the fire, reaching down to add another log to the bright red flames in the hearth. The hours had seemingly passed by at a snail’s pace tonight, and yet she was still sitting here, wide awake in Lynet’s room. She supposed it was an honor to share the room with the beautiful young woman, who had confided her own heart’s sorrow of lost love before she at last found her slumber. She understood Lynet’s distress, because she had also been on the receiving end of feeling a bitter sense of betrayal when it came to someone she had given her heart to.
Funny, how she could now look back on it all and realize the love she had felt for those men, unworthy to have received such a gift, was nothing compared to what she had with Riorden. True...she hadn’t known him long, but what she shared with him went far beyond some mere infatuation with his handsome face. Truthfully, if God was willing to send her such an earth shattering message by throwing her back more than eight hundred years into the past just so she could find her knight and a love worth keeping, who was she not to take advantage of such a miracle?
The slightest sound of tapping came from the door to the chamber, and Katherine pulled her robe closer around her shoulders, wondering who would be disturbing them at this hour. A quick glance at the bed only showed Lynet burrowing deeper beneath the covers. Katherine rushed, barefooted across the cold floor, when she heard yet another set of insistent rapping. She opened the door hesitantly and peeked out into the dimly lit passageway.
Riorden stood there with his arms folded against his chest and one booted foot propped up against the stone wall. He looked indecisive in his decision to disturb her and only stared at her with those incredible, sapphire blue eyes. She stepped into the cool corridor and closed the door quietly behind her so she didn’t wake up Lynet.
A vision of a castle siege flashed in her mind, and she began to worry. Why else would he be here at this ungodly hour. “Are we at war?” Her hand shook at the prospect of a medieval battle outside of the keep’s protective walls. She seemed to be asking that question a lot, lately.
“Nay.”
Katherine relaxed, but wondered what was wrong that he stood looking so devilishly handsome in the darkened corridor. “Then what is it?” she asked in a hushed whisper.
“Nothing,” he declared in a simple statement.
She waited for him to continue, but instead, his eyes slowly wandered up and down her body. She clutched her nightwear close against her throat. The intensity of his stare almost scorched her skin, making her feel as if she stood completely naked for his viewing pleasure.
“Nothing? You come knocking on our door in the middle of the night, and you have nothing to say?” she questioned with knitted brows. “Are you drunk?”
“Only from your beauty.”
Her breath left her in a rush of emotions at his words. He pushed off the wall, advancing like the black lion he was until he stood but inches from her. Good grief! She could immediately feel the heat of passion radiate between them, and he hadn’t even touched her yet. He came to stand behind her. Katherine held her breath in eagerness of what he planned to do next. Her senses came alive, as if her whole body screamed out for him. It was sheer agony waiting for the touch of his hands.
She felt his breath on her neck, and her reaction was instantaneous as tingling goose bumps of anticipation rushed down her spine. He inhaled the fragrance of her hair, and she hid a smile, knowing it smelled like her favorite scent of Japanese cherry blossoms. He reached out, taking her plaited pony tail in his hands and undid the tie holding it in place. His fingers gently laced through the length of her tresses as he unleashed locks that fell in a wave of curls down her back. She almost sighed aloud at the delight he gave her, performing such a simple act as unbraiding its length.
“I like your hair better when ’tis unbound, Katherine,” he said, coming back around to stand in front of her with an alluring smile.
“You do?”
“Aye. ’Tis almost a sin to have such loveliness constrained so.”
She looked up into his eyes and wondered at his words. “Are we talking just about my hair or our earlier argument of letting me jog outside the castle walls?”
“Perchance, ’tis a bit of both. I only thought of your safety, my lady. ’Tis a cruel world we live in, and I would not wish to lose you to another,” Riorden professed in an honest attempt to apologize.
She reached up and traced his lips with her thumb until he took her hand and began kissing the inside of her wrist, sending tiny currents racing up her arm. “You won’t lose me, Riorden. I belong only to you…” she swore with a wistful smile, “…for all of ever.”
Apparently, satisfied at the reaffirmation of his own words of sharing an eternity together, he nodded. “Then come with me,” he said, holding out his hand.
She took it with no hesitation and followed his lead as he guided her down to the second story of the keep. Two turns later, down the long torch lit hallway, he stopped before a door and pushed it open for her.
She entered and took quick note of her surroundings. There was no doubt in her mind this was his room, especially when she saw his belongings scattered about the chamber. The fire burned brightly, taking the chill from the air, and a light repast with a decanter of wine awaited them on a small table next to the hearth.
The room was sparsely furnished. A writing desk and chair sat in a corner by a small window, and two comfortable looking chairs were in front of the fireplace. A rather large trunk sat up against one wall with the lid open, and she could see his clean clothing neatly folded inside. His bed seemed to suddenly dominate her attention. For all her courage in the past several days, she unexpectedly felt nervous. Her shiver had nothing to do with being cold.
Katherine sensed when Riorden came up behind her, only this time, he pressed himself fully against her back, molding himself to her body. His hands slowly caressed their way down her numb arms until he clasped her shaking fingers with his own. He let go of one hand, placed his own on her belly then pulled her gently into his solid muscular form. She inhaled sharply at the sensation of his hard arousal intimately pressed against her body, a body crying out to be unleashed from the restriction of her damn clothing. All she wanted to do was reach out to at last touch the very essence of him.
Suddenly, she thought of the one precious gift she could not offer him, since she had foolishly given it away. She tore out of his grasp with a startled cry. “Riorden, I must speak with you,” she spoke in alarm, worrying what reaction her words would bring.
He chuckled. “You tease me for days, then say you are mine, and now you wish to have speech?” he said in amusement. “Do you not think it can wait, ma cherie?”
She shook her head and moved to the window, not that she could see anything other than the lightning, illuminating the sky off in the distance. He came to her, as she knew he would, and turned her into his embrace.
Tilting u
p her chin, he gave her an encouraging smile. “Tell me, what troubles you so, Katherine. I did not mean this night to be anything other than one we would always remember with great fondness.”
Her lip trembled. “I want the same, but you must first understand, times are so very different where I come from than they are here…so far into the past, Riorden,” Katherine said with a quivering voice.
His laughter rumbled in his chest. “I cannot believe making love has changed that much in this future of yours, Kat.”
She rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh still hearing his amusement at her expense. “No, of course not. That hasn’t changed in the least.”
“It gives me great pleasure to hear it,” he said while he nuzzled her ear with his lips.
She pulled away from him and tried again. “It’s just that…I mean…the times being as they are…we as a civilization don’t always adhere to the same standards as the nobility may in the twelfth century. You could say that our lack of morals make us a somewhat loose society.”
“I really do not see where this conversation is going, Katherine.”
She hung her head in embarrassment, trying to hold back the tears, which would surely give way at any moment. “It should have been yours,” Katherine said, so softly he had to lean in to hear what she was saying. “If I could change things, I would Riorden. You have to believe me.”
“Change what, Katherine?” he asked with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
“I wish I could…I wish I could give you…” she stammered with a crestfallen look and pleading eyes for him to understand what she was trying to say.
His eyes widened, as if at last he caught on to what she couldn’t somehow manage to say. He pulled her close and held her again as his hand stroked down her hair.
