Clarisse broke abruptly away from him. Her hands gripped his forearms, and if she hadn’t held onto him, she would have collapsed to the ground.
“That was quite unexpected,” he said, breathing hard. There was shock in his eyes, a shock that was surely reflected in her own depths.
“I have never kissed anyone before,” she said, taking in a shaky breath just as she felt her face begin to burn. Nor had she ever experienced anything like this. No one had ever spoken about it, not even Amelie. One time she had seen a squire kissing one of the pretty serving girls. They were oblivious to their surroundings, and the girl had her eyes closed as if she was in the throes of pleasure. Now she understood how that girl had felt.
“I have never had a beautiful woman kiss me first,” Gareth admitted, the corners of his mouth twitching. He brushed aside a stray lock of hair from her face. His fingers trailed down her cheek, pausing when they reached her lips. He traced the outline of her mouth. And when he looked up again, his pupils were almost black with desire. “I believe ‘tis a first for both of us; I like it.”
In response to his searing admission, a ball of flames began to move slowly down, down until it settled between her legs, making her damp with want. Unconsciously her lips parted, and she swayed toward him as if some mysterious power drove her to do so. He leaned in as well as though that same force guided his movements. And just before their lips touched again, her eyes fluttered closed.
The first kiss had been quick and surprising, but this second one was different. Tentatively, he pressed small, soft kisses onto her lips, exploring, savoring their luscious contours. And when she kissed him back, he deepened the pressure. Suddenly tiny yellow sparks flashed behind her closed lids. It was power. It was passion. And most of all, it was bliss.
A small whimper sounded at the back of her throat, and she pressed her body even closer against his hard planes. It seemed that as much as she tried, she would never, could never, get close enough to him. The fiery, unbearable heat consumed her entire body, causing her breasts to feel aroused, heavy and full. And then along with the feel of wetness between her thighs, she was acutely aware of a strange ache forming there. It was as if this kiss had awakened something within her, making her hungry and impatient for more. It was then that an unfamiliar boldness took possession of her. Darting out her tongue, she skimmed the top of his lip before sticking it into his mouth. And as his rough tongue touched hers, she drew it into her own mouth, sucking at it, drawing in his very essence.
He tightened his arms around her while deepening the kiss even further. But the increased pressure must have triggered something inside him, for he began to kiss her with a renewed fervor. He devoured her as if he was a starving man, eager for every morsel that she offered. Soon a cloak of urgency blanketed them both. His tongue speared into her inviting mouth, tangling, dueling with her. A gasp escaped from Clarisse. And as if her hands had a mind of their own, they wandered restlessly over him, running across his corded forearms, gripping his broad shoulders, touching, feeling every movement, every wiry muscle.
“Clarisse,” he groaned.
His pain-filled voice penetrated into her brain and she stopped.
Leaning back, she looked worriedly at him. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked.
He made a choking sound in his throat, and he pulled her back into his arms. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he murmured, “You are doing too many things right. Unfortunately if you continue in this manner, I will not be able to help myself.”
She nodded, and let out a long breath of relief. Things were moving almost too quickly, and the feelings that had emerged overwhelmed her. Still, curiosity and desire were awakened within her, and they refused to go back to sleep. And while she wanted to remain in his arms, she took a step back.
A stream of night air passed between them. She felt a vague sense of loss and disappointment, even though she was the one who removed herself from his warmth. He was right of course. They needed to stop before either of them lost control. He conjured feelings in her that she didn’t know existed, and while they excited her, they scared her as well.
“We must go back to the great hall now.”
“I do not want to go back,” she said, shaking her head. “Half of the people there are already drunk, and the other half are immersed in the festivities. I doubt that anyone will notice that I am gone.”
“But what about your nursemaid?”
“I told her that I was going to use the garderobe. She does not know that I am here, nor will she think to search for me until the performers complete their acts.” She gave him an impish grin.
“Sir Gordon has employed enough entertainment to last the entire night,” he said, smiling back at her. “Even though ‘tis prudent that we return to the great hall, I find that I’m also reluctant to go back inside,” he admitted.
“Aye, ‘tis beautiful out here,” she nodded and tipped her face to the moonlit sky. She was never brave enough to go outside at night, and she was awed by the beauty that surrounded her. Even from this distance, she could hear the cheerful chirping of crickets; they were likely having their own celebration.
A sudden impulse took a hold of her.
She sent him a dimpled smile. “I want to show you something.”
Chapter 18
“Look over there,” Clarisse said softly, waving a hand over the large expanse before them. She took in a deep breath of appreciation. “Is it not beautiful?”
Gareth came to stand beside her and gazed out to where she indicated. A soft breeze blew the long grass in the open field, causing the shadowy blades to bow and wave as if it danced to music that was inaudible to human ears. The entire land was painted in a silvery sheen, making it seem almost magical. Off to the right, it lit the dirt road that led to the castle and the soft light kissed the dense tree tops. Just beyond the thicket loomed the mountain which made a jagged interruption in the dark horizon.
She placed her hands on either side of her shoulders and hugged herself. “When I lived here, I used to gaze out of my bedchamber on nights like these. And a sense of tranquility would wash over me as I looked upon the vast, open land.”
A stag raced across the silvery field, and then it stopped abruptly, staring in their direction as if it knew that they watched it.
“Why would you need peace?” he asked.
“Does not every person need serenity?” she smiled blandly at him. “In fact you seem in a need for peace as well. You are here, away from the crush of people, are you not?” He didn’t respond to her question, but she continued anyway as if he had spoken. She wanted to let him know that she understood his pain. Blowing out a rush of air, she said, “Sir Hervey’s comments were hurtful. Do not let them affect you. They are not the truth; they are only words.”
He looked at her oddly. “Why do you care?”
Because I love you, she wanted to say. She lowered her lashes and focused on his chin, not certain what his reaction would be if he knew the truth. But she knew it truly was love that she felt. Her heart melted when she witnessed his act of mercy upon the injured stag. A man who felt that much compassion for a dying animal would not be as cruel and dishonorable as everyone implied. There was more to Gareth’s story than he was revealing. She wanted to tell him that she understood, but instead she lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I thought that ‘twas unjust that Hervey shamed you in front of your peers.”
“I am older than you, and can take care of myself.”
“Whether you are young or old, ‘tis good to have friends, is it not?”
“Friends,” he said as if he mulled over the word. “I have no real friends.”
She lifted her eyes to him. “You need them, for ‘tis friends that will keep you sane.”
He stared back at her for a long moment and then finally he said, “You are wise for one so young.”
“You are not the first to say this,” she said, a corner of her lip curled and the dimple appeared again.
<
br /> Yet even as she smiled, he saw that her amber eyes were serious. For some inexplicable reason he wanted to erase the somber look from their depths. He wanted to see the joy that was there a moment ago. In the moonlight, her hair shimmered. Her back was to the wall and she watched him, although the shadows made it difficult to read the expression in her eyes.
“You had asked me earlier whether something had happened to me…”
“I remember.” Gareth nodded.
“Something did happen to me long ago, although I have never told anyone,” she said, placing a steadying hand on the stone ridge beside her. She traced her fingers along the rough stone as shame filled her lungs, causing her breath to come out in shallow spurts. She didn’t want to see the accusation, or the judgment in his eyes. But she had kept the secret for so long. Perhaps it was time to let it go.
He seemed to sense the new tension in her body, and he turned her around to face him. Running his palms along her arms, he stopped at her hands, and lightly held them. “Tell me what happened,” he said.
Gareth stood so close that she could feel his heat. He lifted his fingers and brushed it against the side of her face. Unable to help it, she stiffened. Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea after all. What if after her revelation, he blamed her for what happened that day? She couldn’t bear to have him look at her in disgust. She knew that if her parents ever discovered her secret, they would blame her for it. Suddenly she felt cold, and she wrapped her arms around herself again. The assault was partially her fault, she knew. She should have stayed by Lady Edeline’s side even though her lady aunt napped. If she hadn’t wandered into the tower chamber that day…
“’Twas a long time ago,” she said. “It should not bother me any longer…”
“But it does,” he finished for her. He released her hands and then lifted his palms to cup her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. “What is it that puts terror on your lovely face?”
She swallowed and couldn’t bring herself to answer right away. The sound of the Calmette banner fluttered as a sudden gust of wind blew.
“I — I was violated,” she confessed, barely able to get the words out. She blinked back the tears. The small dot of darkness that was at the center of her heart expanded, filling her entire body with the emotions from that night. All the pain and guilt that she had locked up inside came rushing forward, overwhelming her.
“Violated,” he said, disbelief clear in his voice.
A tear ran down her cheek, and he smoothed the pad of his thumb along her skin.
She nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “Since that — that moment my life has been altered…”
Gareth’s face blurred and the small lump in her chest rose to the back of her throat, tasting acrid. At long last, she had revealed her secret. It was at once freeing and shocking, for her revelation and the words spoken had such finality to them. She blinked rapidly as more tears threatened to spill. She never thought she would acknowledge the damage that was done, but now she had finally confessed her secret. And in doing so, she could no longer dismiss the incident as a bad dream, nor could she convince herself that Helewise’s death was accidental.
After the incident in the tower, she had become fearful that she would run into the duke again. Because of this, she made certain to stay within the vicinity of Lady Edeline, especially when Amelie’s uncle visited. Unfortunately Helewise was not as careful or as cautious. One day when the duke arrived, her friend was caught unawares. In all actuality everyone was surprised by Roldan’s unexpected visit, and Clarisse hid her face for much of supper. Her friend beside her didn’t fair well either. Her head was bent, and she made no effort to eat any of the delicious food that was set before her. And her face was as pale as the cook’s apron.
“Are you unwell, Helewise?” she whispered, touching her arm.
Helewise flinched for an instant, but then drew in a slow, uneven breath. “Aye, I am feeling ill,” she answered, her voice low and pinched. She looked over at the high table and then immediately looked down again.
Clarisse glanced over and saw the duke speaking to Sir Gordon, a goblet of wine in his hand. She wondered at Helewise’s reaction, but before she got a chance to inquire about it, her friend got up from her seat.
“I will retire to our chamber. Will — will you take on my duties for me?”
Clarisse looked at her friend with concern and nodded. She seemed more withdrawn than usual. Sensing that someone watched them, she glanced over at the high table and caught a glimpse of Roldan. An involuntary shudder raced through her body and she gulped.
“The duke is staring at you.”
Helewise’s eyes widened and a tiny whimper escaped before she could stop it.
“I need to go!” she said.
“I will inform my lady,” Clarisse continued slowly, wondering at the panic and fear that she saw on her friend’s face.
But she was already gone. Clarisse watched her friend hurry out of the great hall, her shoulders hunched. She wondered at Helewise’s strange behavior. That was until her eyes shifted to the duke again, and she wondered no more. Even though a wench sat on his lap, nuzzling his ear, the man appeared disinterested. Instead, his gaze followed her friend as she exited from the hall. Suddenly as if he sensed her scrutiny, he shifted his stare onto Clarisse. Then a chilling, predatory smile touched upon his lips. Unable to help it, she shivered and folded her arms tightly around her stomach. Despite the noise and activity that surrounded her, she felt vulnerable and fearful. The duke did something to her friend. She was sure of it.
It was after Lady Edeline dismissed her from her chores that Clarisse returned to the bedchamber that she shared with Helewise. Because of their status, they were given a small chamber to sleep in. This sleeping arrangement suited them well, but with all the things that happened with Roldan, she wished that she slept in the safety of Lady Edeline’s bedchamber. Regrettably there was already a servant occupying the pallet next to her aunt’s bed, and there was no need for either Clarisse or Helewise to be there at night. Indeed asking to stay would raise unwanted questions.
Pressing the door closed behind her, she walked cautiously into the shadowy room. It was strangely quiet in the chamber. The smell of sweet rushes on the floor filled her senses. There was nothing amiss: the candle still burned at the side table, and the shutters were closed for the night. She glanced over at the pallets, and frowned when she didn’t see Helewise asleep in her usual place.
Before she had a chance to wonder at this, a tiny, almost undetectable noise came from the side of the room. The sound was so small that she thought she had imagined it. But she peered in the direction of the noise anyway. And it was there where she saw Helewise huddled in a corner. Her head rested on knees that were drawn tightly to her chest, while her thin shoulders shook.
Clarisse took a step toward her friend and then hesitated. Did she really want to know what Helewise was crying about? In the end, she forced herself to go to her friend. Kneeling in front of her, she touched her arm.
“Helewise,” she whispered.
Her friend looked up, her eyes blood-shot and swollen. “He did it again, Clarisse,” she sobbed. “He raped me.”
“Did he do it just now?” she asked slowly as the blood drained from her face. “I saw him looking at you…”
She shook her head. “’Twas just before dinner,” she whispered, tightening her arms around herself as if to protect herself from the awful memories. “Do you remember when I went down to fetch sweetmeats for my lady? You asked me why it took so long…” Her face screwed up and she blinked rapidly, as if to keep the river of tears at bay.
Clarisse clasped her cold, clammy hands together. She didn’t want to know what happened next, but it was apparent that Helewise was going to tell her regardless.
“I remember,” she said, reluctantly. “I had also asked why your tunic was torn at the side.”
“’Twas him, Clarisse.” A choked sob escaped her. “I was in a hurry and di
dn’t see him until it was too late. He dragged me to the stairwell and — and —”
Covering her friend’s mouth with her hand, she shook her head. “You do not have to tell me what happened,” she said as a wave of nausea rose to her throat.
“I could not fight him off…” A racking sob shook her thin frame. She hugged her knees tightly and buried her face in them.
“Hush,” Clarisse said. “’Tis over.” She gathered her friend in her arms, feeling older than her thirteen years. She rocked the older girl to and fro, humming a soft, soothing tune as if to comfort a child. Her wordless empathy caused the dam of tears to burst free, and Helewise cried and cried. Clarisse wept right along with her friend, shedding tears for the pain and duress that they both endured, and for the loss of their innocence. Never again would life be the same for either of them.
She didn’t know how long they remained in each others arms, but eventually their sobs subsided.
“Let us go speak with Lady Edeline.”
“Nay, that is not a good idea,” Helewise said, alarmed. “My lady will blame us.”
“But we are innocent.”
She shook her head. “’Twould be our words against the duke’s. We are damned,” she said brokenly. “Everyone will know us to be whores. Our mothers will be devastated, and our kin will look upon us with shame. Respectable noblemen would not dare marry us.” She shook her head, her eyes wide and wild. “Nay, we must not speak of this to anyone.” She dug her fingernails into Clarisse’s arm. “Promise me!”
“Fine,” she said, prying loose from Helewise’s grip. “I will not tell anyone.”
But unfortunately it was a pact that she would later regret. A servant had witnessed the rape, and had spread tales that Helewise prostituted herself. And just as her friend predicted, the entire castle came to know of the incident, and taunted her with nasty names. Lady Edeline eventually heard of it, and demanded to know what happened. Meanwhile Roldan pointed an accusing finger at Helewise, declaring that she had come to him willingly and often.
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