The meal began and continued through several servings. Heavy platters of roasted meat and fowl, pots of stew, wheels of cheese, and loaves of bread filled the table until he swore it buckled in the middle. Servants paced, quietly and efficiently, around them, assisting with the food, offering wine and ale, until everyone had eaten their fill.
Through it all, William watched her. A few times, he answered her questions about other places in Scotland or in France. He listened to her throughout supper and enjoyed her curiosity about what lay outside Yester’s boundaries and outside Lord Hugh’s dominion. For a moment he thought about taking her and escaping these lands, going back to France and showing her the sunny fields where grapes grew. Or to visit his mother’s family holdings near the coast, with its turquoise waters and warm, sandy beaches.
He ached to have her to himself, away from the king, away from her father, and away from all the intrigue and danger that festered around them. But wanting could never be having.
“She has blossomed, has she not, Sir William?” He turned to Lord Hugh, who watched him with much interest, almost as interested as he’d been in Brienne.
“She is lovely, my lord,” he admitted.
No one with eyes that could see would not agree with that now. Garbed as a lady instead of a villager, she seemed at ease with it all. Lovely and more to him, she yet glowed as no other woman did in his sight. There was something between them that pulled his attention back to her, over and over. He wanted to sit and watch her uninterrupted by duty, by honor, by any other demands on him.
“Lady Margaret,” Lord Hugh said, a bit louder. “Are the arrangements made for the morrow?” William glanced down at the lady, who stopped her conversation and nodded to her husband.
“Aye, my lord. As you ordered,” she replied in a low, respectful tone. “We leave after we break our fast in the morning.”
“Very well,” he said. “Adelaide, you are accustomed to this betrothal?”
“Aye, my lord,” came the reply from the young lady, who sat motionless next to her mother. “Certainly, my lord.”
“Then mayhap you should retire early so that you are well rested for your journey?”
Stools scraped back along the stone floor, almost in unison, as they obeyed his suggestion immediately as the command it truly was. He and the other men stood and watched as they left. The servants cleared the table of the remnants of the meal and placed trays of sweet pastries and cakes before Lord Hugh.
“Come, Brienne,” he said then to the only remaining woman in the chamber. “You need not sit over there by yourself. If you are not too tired, stay with us.”
Instead of the stern, unfeeling voice with which he’d ordered his wife and daughter away, he spoke to her softly, inviting her to stay.
William waited for her to sit, now in the seat next to him to the right, and then he sat. Eudes and the captain of his guards sat on the other side of Lord Hugh. Alain, his steward, faced his lord, seated to William’s left. As Lord Hugh’s discussion about travel arrangements continued with his men, William turned to Brienne.
“You seem more at peace, Brienne,” he said quietly.
“I am, Sir William,” she said, smiling. “I thought on your words and their wisdom. And I thank you for your friendship at a time when I needed it most.” She touched him then, resting her hand on his. “This is where I wish to be.”
Though his body reacted to just this slight contact, he tamped down the feelings that coursed through him.
“I wish I could follow my own advice,” he said, keeping his hand still so she did not realize she yet touched him. “I am always so much more proficient at sharing my wisdom than in learning from it myself.”
She laughed, and for a moment he forgot where they were. He’d seen her in fear, in passion, in the village, and here in the castle, and yet he did not remember hearing her laugh aloud like that before. He glanced over to see Lord Hugh’s reaction, but he was engrossed in the discussion with his men.
“So,” he said in a low voice, “Lady Margaret is leaving in the morn? And you remain?”
“Aye. Apparently this betrothal requires a visit, and so the lady is seeing to it. I was . . . not invited to accompany them.”
“You do not look disappointed in the least,” he offered, watching the delicate skin around her eyes crinkle as she smiled and shook her head.
“I would prefer not to leave here,” she admitted. “’Tis the only place I’ve known.”
He wanted to pass on word from Gavin but feared upsetting her. Her next words gave him the opportunity he needed.
“I know you have been through the village. Have you seen . . . him? Them?” she asked.
She smiled, but it was forced, the trembling in her lower lip exposing her vulnerability to anyone watching or listening. He stopped his thumb from touching her lip, as he wanted to, tucking his hand under his leg to keep from raising it to her face.
“Aye. This very morn,” he said. “I saw Gavin on my ride through the village to the hills. He asked about you.”
“How does he fare?” she asked. “Was my moth—Fia—with him?”
She had stopped calling them mother and father already. From the way her gaze flitted over to Lord Hugh’s as she mentioned them, he suspected it was her lord father’s decision to end that custom.
“He seemed well,” he lied. “He wanted to know about you and your new life here in the keep.” That part was true. “Has Lord Hugh forbidden you to leave the castle?”
“Not forbidden, nay,” she replied. “He asked me to remain here until I learned . . . until I learn what is expected of me as his daughter.”
He heard the hesitation in her voice and, from what Gavin had told him, he knew the reason—Lord Hugh was teaching her how to use her power over fire.
“And you agreed?” he asked, watching for signs of truth or lies in her answer.
“I have agreed, though sometimes I simply want to wake in the morning and find myself back in Gavin and Fia’s cottage.”
“He is a hard taskmaster, then?” He leaned back, enjoying the few minutes of conversation with her.
“Aye, very,” she admitted. “But I have so much to learn and so little time in which to do so.”
He was about to ask her about that, and he suspected it had to do with the bad feeling he had, but Lord Hugh interrupted then.
“Sir William, excuse my poor manners,” he said, standing. William and Brienne did so. “I must give Eudes a document from my chambers. Brienne, please keep our guest entertained in my absence.”
A blush crept up her cheeks at his request, and she nodded, clasping her hands in a way that showed how pleased she was to be asked. Within a few moments, all of the men followed Lord Hugh out of the chamber, leaving him alone with Brienne.
“Are you truly well and pleased by this change in your circumstances, then, Brienne?” He sensed something deeper in her that he could not name. Some ambiguity clouding her joy. “No regrets?” He would be leaving soon and wanted—nay, needed—to know she would be well.
“I do miss them,” she said. “I miss Gavin and Fia, I miss telling them of my day, asking their advice. I miss knowing my place and what is expected of me.” She glanced around and leaned closer. “You noblemen have so many rules to follow.”
“We nobles,” he corrected. “You have joined our ranks now, Brienne.” He watched as she thought on that.
“Oh, aye.” She nodded and glanced off over his shoulder for a moment. “Who could have thought that a simple word of acceptance from one lord could have changed my life so much?”
And that sentiment described his life as well, for with one word from the king, one acknowledging word, William’s life could be as he wished it to be. He noticed she was now watching him closely.
“That could be said for you—could it not, William?”
Had s
he read it in his eyes? Or just known the secrets of his heart? “Aye, it could be, Brienne.”
He had never spoken of his bastardy to a woman before, never exposed what he considered his unworthiness as he had to her. Another connection he felt that tied them together in some way. And yet he would be leaving soon to report back to the king. Leaving her here.
“But your father has raised you and mine will not.”
“Who is he, William? Who is your father?”
Any temptation to reveal it to her—and his heart wanted her to know his truth—stopped at the sound of steps down the corridor outside. He waited to see if Lord Hugh returned.
“Sir William,” a servant said to him with a bow. “Lord Hugh is detained with matters he must see to and wishes you to remain at your pleasure here.” Then the man turned to Brienne. “Your lord father bids you to see to Sir William’s comfort and to escort him to the yard when he has finished.”
With the extraordinary message delivered, the man left, and as his footsteps and his presence faded, William understood that this was planned. A battle strategy, plain and simple, for no nobleman would leave his unmarried daughter alone with any man not related by blood and rarely with one related by marriage.
And yet here they sat. The bigger question was—did she know? Brienne stood in the heavy silence and brought a pitcher of wine over to fill his cup. He covered it and shook his head.
“I have had enough wine this night. But my thanks.”
She placed it down and returned to the seat next to him. “Have you eaten your fill? These”—she picked up a small, sticky, folded pastry and held it before him—“are my favorites.”
“Here only a few days and you already have a favorite?” he asked.
“There is a chance I will discover something more pleasing, but for now this is my choice.”
She nodded and brought it closer to his mouth, offering it to him. He opened and took a bite, careful not to touch her fingers as he did. There was an intense burst of sweetness, and then a spicy flavor filled his mouth. He could not identify the flavor, but it was quite good. He watched her eyes as she brought the rest of it to his mouth. This time his lips touched her fingers as he took the rest of it in.
He grasped her hand, holding it to his mouth, and licked the rest of the sweetness off her fingers, one by one. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened as he suckled first one, then the next, then the next. William knew that the sweet flavor of the pastry was not the one he wanted to savor—he wanted the woman sitting next to him. He tugged her closer and kissed her mouth.
She leaned in to him then, her hand sliding along his arm and up onto his shoulder to steady herself as she kissed him back. Her tongue slid along his lips, and she murmured her surprise at the sticky coating that remained from the pastry on his lips.
“Sweet,” she whispered against his mouth.
“Aye, sweet,” he whispered back, plunging his tongue deeper inside her mouth.
Their tongues played and swirled, and he sucked hers into his mouth. She learned quickly, for she did the same thing to his, and he savored the taste that was only her. A mixture of innocence, curiosity, and desire.
He took her by the shoulders and pulled her across his legs, never breaking the touch of their mouths. She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kisses until they both were breathless. Drawing back, he watched as she lifted her hand and traced down his cheeks and along his jaw.
“You terrified me,” she admitted to him. “When you first arrived here, you were so stern and forbidding.”
“When did I stop terrifying you?” he asked, curiosity now his to suffer.
“I think I still am a bit,” she whispered, pressing her mouth against his. He tilted his head and kissed her again.
“You do not look terrified,” he teased.
“You were the first man from outside the village and castle who spoke to me. You are a man of war. You come from the king. All of those were good reasons to fear you,” she explained. All the while her finger teased his skin.
“You do not look frightened now, Brienne.” She looked well kissed and bolder than any woman he’d kissed before. “When did you stop?”
“When you came charging after me when those men took me, no matter the danger to yourself.” She stroked along his jaw and outlined his lips. “When you tried to tell me about the dangers of men like you.” Her finger slid along his face and circled his ear, making him shiver. “When you touched me.”
Her body arched against his, and for a moment he wanted to lay her on the table and finish what they’d begun that day in the forest. To peel off the layers she wore and taste every inch of her skin until she opened for him. His breathing became even more ragged, and the battle for control was nearly lost when she slid her hands into his hair and pulled his face to hers, kissing him with abandon.
“But mostly when you held me in the rain,” she whispered when she could speak again.
The footsteps coming down the corridor finally reminded him of their location and stopped her—stopped him—from moving forward. Instead he lifted her from his lap and put her back on the chair. Standing, he adjusted his breeches and walked a few paces away, as though retrieving the pitcher of water had been his intent all along and not the utter and complete ravishment of the lord’s newly claimed daughter.
The person turned in to a chamber before this one and he let out his breath. Though the cockstand that never disappeared when he was near her would argue, the moment, the madness, was over.
“Brienne,” he began. “I apologize for my behavior. I . . .”
How could he explain it to her? She was an innocent. Though if she continued gazing at him with her luminous eyes and well-kissed mouth, he might not be the man of honor he proclaimed himself to be.
“I should return to my chambers. I am certain you will be awake early and be asked to help the lady prepare for her journey.”
She stood then and nodded at him. “Let me show you how to reach the main floor,” she said as she walked from the chamber.
He took her hand and pulled her to a stop then.
“Brienne, I will be leaving soon, returning to the king and then on to my lands.”
“You must leave?” she asked. “My father . . .” She did not finish her words then. It was the first time he’d heard her refer to Lord Hugh as simply her father.
“I will not leave without speaking to him first,” he replied. She nodded. “I wish . . .”
He might wish and he might want, but he would not burden her now with the promise or hope of something that was impossible between them. Not now that she was claimed and recognized and would be a great heiress regardless of her illegitimacy. He did not finish the words he’d begun. He just pulled her to him and kissed her gently. A farewell, for he knew he would leave soon after Lady Margaret and her entourage did in the morning.
They walked wordlessly, the silence growing heavy between them. When they reached the stairway that would take him down to the main floor and to the door to the yard, they paused.
“You know that you need only send word if you need me?”
She searched his face. “So, you are leaving?”
“’Tis time, Brienne. You must get on with your life, and I must with mine.”
“Your father? You will seek his acknowledgment now?”
“I am beginning to believe that is not the most important thing.”
“Then what is, William?” she asked as he took the first step that would separate them.
“I think I need to know who I am no matter what others call me.” The smile was both sad and knowing, and the tear that tracked down her cheek was nearly his undoing.
“Ah.” She nodded. “Words of wisdom I have heard as well.”
He left then, turning and forcing his feet to move away, step by infinitely harder step.
The door closed behind him, and he continued across the near-empty yard.
As he reached the main keep and entered the side door, William realized that for the first time, it had been just them—just William and Brienne, a man and a woman, with no concern over powers or dangers or threats or positions or others.
He realized that he would miss that most of all when he left.
William reached his chambers and closed the door behind him, never realizing he was being followed.
Chapter 19
Brienne knew full well what Lord Hugh was doing. He’d asked her to make William welcome so that he could persuade him to join their endeavor. If allowing a man access to his unmarried daughter would be that persuasion, Lord Hugh would allow it.
And he had.
As much as she’d like to think that her virtue would be too high a price for his cooperation, men like her father cared little for anything so insignificant as his daughter’s honor. She had no doubt that he thought of her in the same cold and calculating way in which he thought of Adelaide. Her sister’s betrothal would bring him something he wanted or needed, and so she’d be sent off to accomplish his goal.
She watched William walk back to the keep through the crack in the doorframe and knew that no matter what her father intended to offer him, he would turn it down if it meant betraying his king and his honor.
Even if her father offered her as the compensation for breaking his oath to the king.
Lord Hugh had left them alone. He’d sent someone to interrupt at just the most inopportune time, thwarting any attempt to seduce her directly. She also knew with a certainty that he would offer her as bed play to the knight soon. She’d seen the whores who offered their services in the village do the same thing to increase the gold or trinkets that they got in return. Build a man’s lust until he would pay the price. This dinner and Lord Hugh’s timely absence played out just like that.
William was not the only one who would expect to pay the price for his father’s approval. Brienne had entered into this night knowing full well that her father manipulated her. Something so keenly desired would have a dear price, but after years of waiting and wanting, she was now willing to pay it in order to excel at her fire powers. At first she’d decided she would allow this one expense, for there was still so much to learn before she could understand it all.
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