Taken and Seduced

by Julia Latham

  They worked in silence washing her garments and then his until he reached for his saddlebag. “I have a clean shirt and breeches. You wear my shirt and wash your second smock.”

  When she started to protest, he only said, “’Twill cover you as well as a smock.”

  At last she nodded. He turned around, she turned around, and they both began to change. They were going to be naked at the same time, she thought, far less mortified than she expected to be. She didn’t know what she was feeling, but it was almost…excitement and trepidation and wonder all mixed together. She slipped off her smock and slid on his garment, trying not to inhale, because it might have the scent of him. It would be too easy to remember being held in his arms, made to feel desired as a woman.

  Shirtless, Adam dumped all the dirty bathing linen into the corridor, and within minutes, as if they’d been ordered to wait, the menservants returned to remove the bathing tub. She donned her cloak to keep herself decent. Then she was alone with Adam, and the only thing left to do was go to bed. He blew out the candle, leaving the chamber glowing by firelight.

  He reached past her for the extra coverlet that lay across the end of the bed. “I shall take this and sleep in the chair.”

  “You will not!” She spoke without thinking, but she didn’t have to. “How can you sleep in a wooden chair? And both are covered in wet laundry.”

  “Then the floor—”

  “Stop it! I have slept in your arms for over a sennight. And we can do so again.” She lifted the coverlet to reveal the sheets—and stared at them with longing. “Though the sheets are rough to the touch, they still make me feel luxurious.” She slid in on the stuffed mattress and moved to the wall.

  Adam hesitated only a moment, then he sat down beside her. When the bed sank beneath his weight, she grabbed the edge to keep to her side. Stiffly, he lay on his back, their shoulders touching. Each tried to move away, but the sagging mattress drew them back.

  She sighed heavily, and heard it echoed from him. They looked at each other, then laughed uneasily.

  “Should I lie on my side with you behind me?” she asked. “We might feel as comfortable as we do on the road.”

  “I am never comfortable like that,” he said, coming up on his elbow and resting his head on his hand to look down on her.

  Her shoulder brushed his chest. “But—I know we are usually on the hard ground…”

  “’Tis not that.” He looked as if he meant to say something, and instead he rolled onto his back again. “Enjoy your sleep, Florrie.”

  “And you as well,” she murmured.

  Their shoulders brushed with any movement, so she tried not to move at all. She stared at the beamed ceiling of the room, which flickered as the fire cast its glow. Though she was warm, and more comfortable than she’d been since the journey began, she was too aware of the man at her side.

  But…the thought of eventually sleeping alone someday almost saddened her. This adventure would have to end. When it was over, would she have had some effect on him? Could she convince him that killing her father would harm Adam’s very soul?

  There was a bird singing insistently out the window. That was the first thing that penetrated Florrie’s deep, comfortable slumber. And then the incredible feeling of heavy warmth.

  Heavy?

  Awareness came back to her slowly, and she realized that sometime in the night, she and Adam had become entangled in the narrow bed. He yet slept on his stomach, but his upper body lay half across hers, his arm flung across her chest, his head on the same pillow as hers. He faced her in his sleep, his dark lashes resting on his cheeks. He was relaxed, his expression peaceful rather than wary, as if nothing weighed on his mind, not revenge, not kidnapping.

  His body pressed her into the mattress, but it was not uncomfortable—in fact, even though her breast was flattened beneath him, the sensation was…pleasurable. More than pleasurable; it made her want to rub up against him.

  Suddenly his eyes blinked several times and opened, and they were nose to nose, staring at each other.

  He said nothing to her; he must be noticing all the places they were pressed together. Then slowly, he leaned his head to hers, his lips but a breath away, as if waiting for her to refuse.

  She couldn’t—she didn’t want to. She lifted her head to meet him, pressing her mouth to his over and over, as if making up for what they’d held back from the night before.

  He moved then, sliding over her, first his entire chest, then one leg riding hers, and dipping between. His hips followed, his erection prominent, pressing down on her, until she eagerly parted her thighs to accommodate him. He was wearing breeches; she was wearing his loose shirt, well down past her knees, but that wasn’t much between their bare flesh. He slanted his head for a bolder kiss, even as he sank between her thighs and rolled his hips. The shock of his body so intimately against hers made him groan as if he ached.

  She returned the sound against his lips, sliding her hands up the hot skin of his arms, then across his back, with its firm muscles and the ridge of his spine. She held him against her, thinking of nothing but the pleasure he gave her, the way they moved as one. Every press of his hips made her push up against him. She wanted more, she wanted the passion promised, the way it stretched out before her toward some culmination she could only imagine.

  The bird was still singing insistently out the window, and Adam at last lifted his head, his expression suffused with comprehension. He gave a piercing birdcall of his own, startling her; the other “bird” went silent.

  “’Twas Robert?” she whispered.

  He nodded. And although they both knew that this madness could not continue, she wanted to wrap her legs about him, hold him to her, make him share what a man and woman would share together. She wanted to know everything, before she never saw a man again except for a priest.

  But did she want to be one of the women he eased himself with, the desperate women who needed a man for the night? That wasn’t how she saw herself.

  When he rolled off her, she didn’t stop him. They didn’t speak as they dressed, their backs to each other. A moment had been lost, she knew, but she’d also overcome a temptation.

  Adam was both glad that his brother had interrupted him, and angry. The temptation of Florrie was beginning to overwhelm him. What would he have done—what would she have allowed him to do? Lying between her thighs, feeling the heat of her beneath him, had made him forget every promise to himself to keep her safe. He’d almost lost himself without even being inside her. He felt like an immature boy again, one who wanted to prove himself to a woman.

  He didn’t want to use Florrie like that. His few sexual encounters had been exciting, but hurried, more about immediate need, both his and the woman’s. With Florrie, he wanted to take his time, explore every inch of her. He needed to watch her face when he gave her the ultimate pleasure. The fact that he was more concerned about her than himself struck him hard, for it did not bode well for his future. He did not want to feel something more for Florrie, but he feared it was already too late.

  Out in the stable yard, where Robert and Michael waited to make their report, Adam called on every bit of his skill at presenting an impassive face. When Florrie wasn’t looking, Robert nudged him from horseback, grinning, and Adam gave him a cold stare that had his brother’s eyebrows rising.

  Florrie handed out the food they’d purchased within, with bread still soft and warm instead of hard and cold. She’d spread it with butter, and the other two gave her appreciative thanks for the rare treat.

  “Sir Adam,” Michael said, “neither Robert nor I found anything unusual in the night, but I could not discount my feelings of unease.”

  Florrie’s happy expression faded and she listened intently.

  Robert sighed as they began to ride across the yard, into the tunnel beneath the inn, and back out into the sunlight. “I know not what he’s talking about.”

  Michael gave Robert an impatient frown. “We must not discoun
t our intuition, Robert. We have been followed before. The League—”

  “You know it will take time to send fresh men,” Robert said dismissively.

  “Then we’ll continue to the east,” Adam said. “London can wait. I overheard a group of travelers in the public room this morn, heading out. Let us ask to journey with them.”

  “Could we endanger them?” Florrie asked.

  “Not if we leave them before dark. Someone traveling far behind us might be misled by so large a group.” He looked at her, trying to give her a ready smile, when he was still trying to banish the scent of her hair from his thoughts. “My lady wife, are you prepared to soften their mistrust of us?”

  “She should ride with you upon your horse to give the appearance of frailty,” Robert suggested. “The traveling party surely could not refuse that.”

  Even though it was a good idea, Adam sensed that Robert had other motives for keeping Florrie so close to Adam. What purpose did his brother serve? Did he not understand that a woman like Florrie would do her family’s bidding? Robert could not change that.

  Florrie met his gaze with serenity.

  “Will it bother you to ride with me…Katherine?” he asked softly.

  She shook her head, her eyes suddenly big as she watched him. “Nay, Edmund.”

  “Take your feet out of the stirrups,” he said.

  She did so, obviously thinking to dismount. Instead, he lifted her from her saddle and settled her across his thighs, just behind his pommel. Her hip pressed into his groin.

  “Forgive me if this is uncomfortable,” he murmured, unable to stop looking into her eyes. “I do not have a pillion for you to sit upon behind me.”

  “I do not mind,” she said, sounding almost breathless.

  It was going to be a long day.

  Chapter 14

  Florrie thought it was both difficult and easy to ride sheltered within Adam’s strong arms. It was easy, because it certainly helped them overcome the reticence of the small group of travelers they asked to ride with. It was an extended family—two brothers, Ralph and Godfrey Boorde, their wives and five children, as well as two men-at-arms. The Boordes did not hide their suspicion about three strange men joining them, but the women’s expressions softened when they looked on Florrie. She kept her head against Adam’s chest as if she didn’t have the strength to lift it, but she smiled at each person with gratitude.

  And of course, riding with Adam was difficult, because it was hard to forget how wonderfully their bodies had moved together in a different way just that morn.

  The elder brother in the traveling group, Ralph Boorde, tall and lean, wearing a grim frown, asked, “Is she ill? We cannot be riskin’ our families.”

  She was about to fall back on what had worked before, but Adam was quicker. His large, warm hand slid over her stomach. She glanced up to see him grin with pride.

  “My wife is early on with child,” he said. “’Tis no sickness you can catch—unless your wives do.”

  The women laughed and the men looked chagrinned. But Florrie knew that she and Adam had won them over. He might think that the League had not taught him how to blend in with people, but he’d learned well on his own.

  “And we will only be with you for part of the day,” he continued. “Then we head south.”

  That seemed to ease even the doubters.

  Their small party joined the tail of the larger group, composed of horses, a donkey, and a cart carrying the smaller children. Michael and Robert were positioned at the end. Throughout the day, the two of them would take turns dropping behind to keep watch.

  The horse ambled slowly, and Florrie rocked with its gait, safe and content within Adam’s arms. Quietly, she asked, “Have you ever been to London?”

  He shook his head. “Have you?”

  “Nay, but my sisters have, and their descriptions defy even my imagination. The number of churches with spires touching the clouds is awe-inspiring, and their bells are like music when they all ring out at once. When you travel on the Thames, you float by palaces of the very rich.”

  “So you will see your father’s home for the first time,” he said softly.

  She didn’t want to think about Adam’s reasons for this journey, so she only answered, “’Tis not so grand or on the river, according to Matilda. There are others far finer. She also said the streets are full of more people than you can count, and you can buy anything you need at little shops, or right on the streets. And people actually live on London Bridge, so massive is it! Their businesses are right beneath their homes. And at the docks, there are ships from all over the world. I will be glad to see that.”

  She did not say “before I enter the convent,” knowing how he seemed to dislike the reminder. She felt some of his tension leave him.

  “Perhaps, when this is all over,” she mused, “you can begin to look for a wife there.”

  His arms stiffened around her, and she looked up to see him frowning.

  “I do not wish to speak about a wife with you, Katherine.” He emphasized her alternate name mildly.

  “And why not? I have spent my life hearing about courtship and marriage, and knowing it would not happen for me.”

  “You are a woman, regardless of how they treated you. It cannot have been easy to hear about something every woman expected.”

  “Not at first, but sometimes I thought it was easier to be me, with no pressure, no fears of my future. But you will need a wife to make you happy. You cannot spend all your days doing the work of…your brethren.”

  She was a looking for a word to disguise the League of the Blade, but perhaps she’d chosen wrong. After all, “brethren” could also mean his own brothers, whom he’d helped raise.

  He seemed to understand her meaning, for he smiled. “Fear not for me, Katherine. I understand how the brethren work. I will only be with them once a year. If they choose to have me back. Other than that, I will live my own life.”

  “Ah, then you definitely need a wife. Only a woman can make you truly happy.”

  It should hurt to talk about another woman spending every night in his bed, but Florrie was practical; she could not let hurt pierce her deeply. It was obvious that Adam needed gentle companionship by the way he was drawn to her. She wanted him to be happy—did she not?

  When he made no reply, she said, “I believe you do not think of a wife, because you do not consider your future at all.”

  “Katherine, I have spent my life thinking of the future.”

  “But the moment you’ve concentrated on for so long is almost here. What happens then? How will you support yourself once you no longer live with…your brethren?”

  “I have land. ’Twill be good to finally reside there.”

  “Oh, so you have a home!” she said, feeling relieved that he would not live in poverty.

  “I have not seen it in nineteen years.”

  Though his words were stark, stripped of emotion, she felt it all for him. Because of her father, he’d been torn from his home. It had surely been deemed too dangerous to risk the three brothers living there.

  There was a lump in her throat that she could barely speak around, but she forced herself to say, “Land will appeal to a woman and her family. So now you have to consider how to appeal to a woman to earn her favor. Much as some marriages occur regardless of the feelings of the bride and groom, ’tis always better to be pleased with one’s marriage partner.”

  He gave her a dubious look.

  “I have not had much experience personally, but I have watched my sisters for many years. Most of all, a woman wants your respect and consideration.” She frowned. “I am not certain Matilda succeeded there, but she cared more about being a marchioness than anything else. A woman who marries you will not be looking for a title, of course, but you are a powerful, landed knight. You will not have difficulty.”

  “I am please you think so,” he said dryly.

  “You must offer to assist her in even the smallest thing, wheth
er it be helping her from her horse or walking with her up the stairs.”

  “And of course, those things allow a man to touch a woman, and see if there is that intimate awareness of each other.”

  She hoped he did not look down to see how red her face had become. “Now you are thinking correctly,” she said. “A woman also likes to know that you can protect her, and ’tis obvious just looking at you that you are well trained.”

  “It is?” he countered pleasantly. “And how can that be if she has not seen me in battle or training?”

  “Oh, well…your shoulders are…” Her voice faded away. How did a conversation about appealing to women lead to the width of his shoulders and the strength of his thighs? “…adequate.”

  “Adequate shoulders? Such a compliment will send a man’s head spinning.”

  She elbowed him lightly in the stomach, and he grunted.

  “At court, I hear that dancing is important,” she continued brightly. “You have already told me that you’ll have no problem with that. It still surprises me that they bothered with dances in your…training.”

  “Not if you look at it from my brethren’s position. They wanted me to blend in with other people, wherever I was. It was important to them that in so many ways I behave normally. They just did not consider…anything else.”

  That made them both think of the League again, and she slumped back against him, biting her lip.

  Suddenly, she felt his mouth against her ear, and his breath made her shiver.

  “There are more intimate things to speak of that are important in a marriage,” he whispered.

  Guiltily, she looked around lest her companions—or their children—hear Adam’s words. But she couldn’t speak.

  “Should you not explain what would please a woman in her wedding bed?”