"'Tis not myself I fear for with Julian. I would kill him afore I would let him toss the women and girls of the keep to his men. Once the men tired of them, he would force them from the castle. He has threatened he wouldn't spare food for any but his own people."
Maud put her arm around Letia's shoulder and hugged her as they walked to the solar. "Think on all the souls in this castle ye are saving from the likes of him! Now, come. Take a hot bath; drink a small cup of wine and it will be time."
Letia swallowed, hating that night was so quickly falling. She took overlong to remove her blue kirtle and smock. Bile rose to her throat when she stepped into the warm water. She held the soap to her nose and breathed its Lily of the Valley scent to try to settle her stomach.
While Maud washed her hair, Letia kept her eyes closed, forcing herself to relax. It did no good. She worried about Warin abed in the next room, for the skirmish with Raik had been too much. He seemed to take longer to recover than ever before.
"Maud? You will stay beside Warin's bed until I return?" She twisted her head back and looked up at her. "I am fearful for him. He was more pale than usual this day and often pressed his chest."
"If Leofwan does not toss me from the room. He's with him now. He saw to it the baron took the medicine that Lord Ranald prepared from Hawthorne berries."
"Yes, he was asleep when I went in. You didn't dose him with the white poppies, did you?"
"Nay, child. Not the baron. Now, the other..."
Letia's heart pounded. "What if he senses 'tis me and throws me from the room?"
"Ye worry for naught. This day I let him have as much wine as he asked for. He did say it had a strange taste. The old crone from the forest prepared the love potion the master spoke of." She filled a delicate goblet with wine and handed it to Letia, motioning for her to drink.
"You are certain it will not poison him?" Letia took a sip. Then deciding she needed the false courage wine would lend her, she took a healthy swallow.
"I pressed her for what she put in it. All she would reveal was a bit of basil, walnuts, saffron, sage and savory."
"They are harmless enough. Mayhap it is the combination that makes it work?"
"That, and a couple drops of the elixir of white poppy in his wine. 'Tis said to give a man dreams that he has pleasured a woman all the night through. When he awakes, he will believe he dreamt a woman spent the night in his bed."
"Are you sure the armorer's daughter will not come to his room this night?"
"Aye. She will be disappointed, but her man will keep her well occupied. 'Twas clever to allow her to tempt Sir Raik each night. She is as tall as ye, her hair as long. He will think 'tis her that lies between the sheets with him."
Letia pressed her eyes closed, wishing that when she opened them, it would be near dawn. She finished the last of the wine and handed Maud the chalice.
Too soon, she sat wrapped in a drying cloth while Maud combed her hair until it slipped through her fingers like the rarest silk. A smock of pale yellow as soft as rose petals slithered over her head and shoulders. Maud turned her and draped a green wool cloak around her, then drew Letia's face down and kissed her forehead.
"Lovey, do not think. I removed all candles from his room. The sky is heavy with rain. Little or no light can seep through the window openings. Ye must not let him glimpse yer face."
"How will I get away when, um, when...?"
"He will fall asleep soon after. Slip from the room when he begins to snore."
With that, she wrapped her arms around Letia and hugged her. Taking a single lit candle, she led her to Raik's door then pinched out the flame. She eased the latch up, pushed the door wide enough for Letia to slip inside and gave her shoulder a light pat of encouragement.
CHAPTER 6
Earlier, Raik strode around the room, enjoying the last of the wine. Dark red wines were usually too dry for his taste. But not this. He must talk to the woman who brought it to him a short time ago. Her name was Maud, wasn't it? She would know where her master had purchased it.
It was a hearty brew, too, for he felt its effects. He grinned and looked down at his body. Couldn't see it. Too dark. But he sure as Hell felt his cock had enjoyed the wine as much as he! He snickered then cleared his throat.
Ha! Or was his raging cockstand prodded by remembering the armorer's daughter rubbing her breasts against his arm each time she pretended to straighten his bedding? She was tall and lithe with long hair flowing down her back. His fingers itched to rake through it.
If he had read her aright, she would slip into the bedchamber soon. She had murmured that her father made the finest weapons in England, but Raik would have no need of them for his own was mighty. When her hand strayed over the growing bulge beneath the covers, Maud pinched her ear and sent her from the room.
Just when things were getting interesting.
He put his empty chalice on the bedside table, stretched his left arm above his head and took a mighty breath then let it out in a whoosh. Ah! It felt good. He probed the muscles of his chest and right arm, testing them. He winced for the effort. Fool. Did he expect to heal so quickly?
His cock throbbed bringing his thoughts back to the parade of women that had come had come and gone from his room in the last two days. Ranald had oft teased him that the lasses flocked to him because he dressed in colors so brilliant he rivaled the brightest birds. No bright colors on him now. Not since his wound had stopped bleeding. In fact, no colors at all.
Just him in all his naked glory.
His leg bumped against the side of the bed. Mayhap he was still a wee unsteady? He crawled between the covers and sprawled on his back. The sheets would cool his heating body. Was the fever returning? Nay. 'Twas not that type of fever. Woman-fever built in him. It had been near a sennight since he had coupled. He shoved the top covers off and slid his legs open and closed over the cool sheets. Did de Burgh have so much coin he covered all his beds in silk? 'Twas more likely the baron felt guilty that one of his men had near killed him.
Such pretty lights. Lights? Nay. Yet colors shimmered and swirled before his eyes, dancing around the blackness of the room, eluding him if he tried to seek where they started.
Had the door opened then closed but a breath later, stirring a soft breeze?
He stilled. His skin tingled. The hair on his body warned him to be wary. Someone moved through the colorful haze, scattering it to fly about the room. He breathed deeply through flaring nostrils.
Ahh. The scent. A woman. Silent. If he hadn't felt the tiny stirring of the room's air, he would have missed her.
"Come!"
The command in that one word would have made even the unruliest of warriors heed him, yet the woman didn't move. He sensed her stiffen. He stretched out both arms. Cupped his fingers toward his palms, beckoning, demanding she come. Surely, she would sense his order though she could not see his gestures? He wanted her to crawl onto the bed. To straddle him. He was ready. More than ready.
Truth was he quivered with need.
He sat up, too aroused to feel the slightest pain in his shoulder and bruised body. Rising, he padded across the cold floor, going to her as if she led him with an invisible rope tied to his cock. He felt her, though they had not touched. He stopped. 'Twas but a soft breeze of distance between them.
He needed her.
Had to have her.
His nose quivered, his breathing quickened.
Reaching out, his hands found warm shoulders covered in soft wool. He followed the cloth inward, tracing where thin, silky ribbons held it together at the neck. He pulled the ends. Felt the knot slither open. He spread his hands beneath the cloth, sliding the wrap off silky shoulders. He heard it glide to the floor.
He touched her hair, her face, her neck. His fingers floated down her arms to her fingertips. Beyond them, a whisper of cloth covered her hips. He captured it and started his way back up. He growled. She lifted her arms.
The thin smock made no sound when it joined
her cloak at her feet.
Raik stared, though he could not see her. She was tall. But not as tall as he. That pleased him.
His fingers combed through hair as warm as sunlight. He imagined it a dark brown. Curly, too. It gripped his fingers, closing around them in gentle hugs.
He stared at the haze, willing himself to see her face. He felt a strong forehead. Ample brows. Lovely shaped eyes beneath, tilted at the corners with full, long lashes. He caressed silky cheeks. His thumb rubbed over plump, ripe lips.
He looked into eyes he could see only in his mind. Brown, the color of dark earth.
A soft growl rumbled up from his throat when his hands smoothed down over her neck and chest then came to the soft swell of breasts made to fit perfectly in his hands. The nipples hardened and pressed into his palms. Tickling. He moved his hands in opposite circles, teasing the nubs with his calloused palms.
Look into my eyes, lass. Though ye canna see me, ye can feel my thoughts. Put yer arms around me, yer head against my chest that I may feel yer flesh against mine.
He sighed, long and gusty, when her breasts pressed against his stomach, her arms snaked around his waist. She whimpered when her head rested against the firm flesh on his chest.
He pulled her tight to his body. She stiffened. He loosened his grip and waited until she softened again then explored down her spine. His hands dipped in at her waist then out as he stroked her hips. Finally, they slipped around to cup her buttocks.
By all the saints! Her nether cheeks near set him afire they were so firm and warm. Her thighs were strong and muscled for he felt their tautness against his own.
"Come," he whispered.
Raik fought the urge to put an arm beneath her knees and carry her to the bed, but he was sane enough to know 'twould tear his wound afresh. With an arm around her waist, he led her there. She was hesitant. Fearful, no doubt, of bumping into something, for she couldna see in the dark.
Strange, but it seemed a shimmering blue haze outlined her body. 'Twas perfectly formed. Had the wine heightened his senses? Or perchance the potions they dosed him with for the fevers?
Silky sheets brushed the sides of his thighs. He turned with her so his back was to the bed and eased down, his hands pulling her with him. He feared not holding to her flesh, for what if she floated away like the shifting lights?
Lying on the bed, he realized she pressed against his right side. 'Twould not do. He grunted. Because of his wound, he couldna roll to that side and explore her.
"What is yer name, love?" He spoke as he straddled her to switch sides then shoved gently with his hands for her to move over. Once she settled, he stretched back on the bed alongside her.
She pressed her fingertips to his lips, silencing him. So. The lady didna like talk with her bed sport? From her? Or from him?
He rose on his elbow and nestled his face in the curve or her neck, close to her left ear.
"Yer skin is soft as a newborn kit's downy fur," he whispered.
Ah, she did not protest. 'Twas she who didna want to speak. He nibbled her small lobe then kissed it, drawing it into his mouth to savor the sweet, plump flesh.
His lips slid down her neck and found that hollow below. He needed to touch her with his tongue, to taste her, to know she was not some strange dream. Darting his tongue's tip there, he felt her shiver. He trailed a moist line down her chest, between he breasts, and felt her tense with expectation. He grinned. She would have to wait. When she least expected, he would suckle those perfect breasts he had felt earlier.
His exploring lips found a firm stomach, more taut than most. So. She had not birthed a child. He gripped her hips and buried his face there at the hair guarding her center. Her legs pressed closer together.
Pray God she was not a virgin!
He stilled. Should he ask? By Lucifer's randy cock, he had better! He didn't want de Burgh after his arse for deflowering one of the women he protected here at his keep. His anger would lead to more than a mere stab in his shoulder.
More than likely, 'twould be aimed at his cock!
"Are ye untried, lass?" He held his breath, waiting.
"Nay," came a whispered response.
He sighed with relief, for never had he felt so hard-pressed to control his lust. 'Twas as if his whole body burned to be buried in the lovely flesh beneath him.
"Ye speak true, lass? I canna abide anyone who would lie to me. If I found ye did so, I would likely beat ye for it."
"'Tis true."
Still little more than a whisper of sound, yet enough that her voice sent shivers through him. Hot desire raced through his veins. He hungered for her, to feel her flesh in his mouth, to be inside her soon. If he held back longer, he would shatter like ice falling from the parapets in the dead of winter, its gleaming splinters covering the cobblestones.
He blinked, sending the shivering lights hovering around her to light up her breasts. His lips dove for the succulent nipple waiting there, pulled it gently then stronger until his mouth filled with the tip of her silky breast.
Sweet.
Never had he tasted a woman as succulent as this. He tended each breast, hearing her breathing become more ragged.
He moved to cover her and met resistance.
"Open for me, sweetness." He made shushing sounds when she caught her breath, then little by little, he felt her muscles relax and his knee slid between as she widened her legs for him.
He nestled his hips there, bumping the tip of his cock against her, teasing her flesh. He kissed her for the first time. Such marvelous lips. Firm at first, then softening to let him play and tease them. He rested on his left elbow, keeping his weight from crushing her. He slipped his right hand between her legs.
She was moist, ready. His breath hitched.
He guided himself into her at the same time as his tongue plunged to claim her mouth. She was tight, and at first, he hesitated, going slowly in case she had not told him the truth. When he met no barrier, he eased his long length into her. Her body wasna used to his size. He waited at each thrust until she opened around him.
She took a deep, shuddering breath.
He stilled.
"Do I hurt ye?"
In answer, she tightened her legs around his hips to grip him, raising her body to meet his cock. She welcomed him into her flesh.
It was as erotic as the strongest love potion.
She matched him, thrust for thrust. Soon, they both panted. Their arms and legs locked around each other. The sheets tangled around them as they struggled to reach their peak. Their frenzied coupling sent the pillows off the side of the bed. Finally, her stomach tightened. Her muscles started to quiver. She was near her peak.
He would wait until she gained her full pleasure before he withdrew to spend his own seed.
Her head pressed back onto the bed, her body arched against him. He fought to keep himself inside her as she thrashed in a mighty climax. Fearing she would cry out, and not wanting de Burgh to know he was swiving one of the keep's women, he tried to cover her mouth with his. Instead, he found she held her breath and clamped her teeth together to keep silent.
Finally, she slowly relaxed and a whoosh of air exploded from her lips.
He held himself still until her spasms calmed. The strain near blew the top of his head off as her muscles milked at his cock. Feeling his seed begin its travel, he raised his hips to withdraw.
She locked her legs around his buttocks. He tensed his own and rose upward again. She lifted with him. He shoved up on his arm and tried to calm his raging desire for release. A light touch of her fingers on his ballocks was his undoing.
His seed burst forth.
'Twas something he had not done inside a woman in the past ten years.
Anger streaked through him. He wanted to rage at her.
Suddenly, Raik was as weak as a youngling. He blinked and tried to keep his eyes wide. Colors swirled around him once more. He rolled onto his back, his eyes too heavy to open.
Sighing,
he fell into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER 7
Letia held her breath, listening. At first, she feared Maud had dosed him too heavily. The fear was short-lived. He turned to his side and threw his right leg across her stomach. The air whooshed from her.
Bit by bit, she freed her lower body from beneath his heavy thigh. When her hip slid along his flaccid tarse, she startled. It moved of its own, filling and growing again to an impressive size.
Were all young men ready to swive so soon after such heated bed sport? Or did it depend on good health? Maybe both? Would that Warin had been young and healthy. On their wedding night, he had suffered with chest pains.
Keeping one eye on the snoring man, she grabbed her smock off the floor and slipped it over her head. She must hurry. Should he awaken, she would likely need aid in escaping the room. Trembling, she pulled the woolen cloak across her shoulders and clutched it to her neck.
Glancing around, Letia probed the darkness for anything she had missed. A moment later, she grasped the door latch. When it moved beneath her fingers, she bit her tongue to keep silent.
The door inched open.
"Shh, 'tis only me."
Maud's voice. Letia's jaw relaxed and she sighed softly as tension drained from her. She hurried out of the chamber then closed the door so slowly it did not make a sound.
"Lovey, I left your bath as it was. The water is cold, but I could not have it heated lest someone might wonder about it."
"Warin?"
"Color has returned to his cheeks." Maud patted Letia's back and urged her forward. "Go now. We will talk later."
Both women froze when someone cloaked in black moved from the shadows, the hood pulled low over her face. When she drew near, they saw 'twas Letia's sister.
Letia froze. What must she think of her?
Sybilla put her arms around her and squeezed gently.
"Do not look so," she whispered. "I knew something was afoot when Warin brought the Scotsman back to the keep. That he had a purpose. The baron always has a purpose."
She gave Letia a swift hug then stepped back.
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