The Gentle Knight (The Norman Conquest Book 2)

by Ashley York

  Emma waited. John counted to ten and turned back toward their camp. Peter and Philip close behind. No one said a word.

  “Wait!” Emma’s voice held desperation. “Yes. I accept any terms as long as my soldiers and I are not arrested.”

  John smiled, turned to Philip then Peter and together they walked back to the gate. “Open the gates.”

  The sound of chains moving within the walls was like the sound of sweet angels singing to Peter’s ears. It would not be long now and he would be back with his wife. He just hoped he would find the words she needed to hear to find peace in their marriage.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The snows raged on and Peter had been gone nearly five months. When Tadhg had returned from his last supply trip north, he assured her the siege was at an end. At the first sign of spring, he left to return home.

  Brighit felt very alone After many sleepless nights in Bishop Odo’s magnificent bed, Brighit moved to the hall with the other nuns. They welcomed her in and she was soon fitting into the rhythm of prayer and work. She even began to wear the nun’s robes. It felt good to stay busy. They needed to be ready for planting at the first thaw. She decided to keep the fact that she was with child to herself.

  In the quieter times, Brighit wondered at Peter’s insistence they marry. She came to realize it was his overwhelming sense of honor that made him do it. Tadhg had been so unyielding about the impropriety of the situation. She should have been more determined. Tadhg would have eventually believed her if she said nothing happened. Peter must have felt he had wronged her with his lustful advances, despite her own willingness. When he believed she would be considered soiled, he did the only honorable thing.

  Well, I’ll certainly have none of that.

  His declaration haunted her dreams. And here she was carrying his child. He would never feel free of his duty to her now. Brighit fought against the overwhelming sadness. She loved Peter. She wanted to be with him but not because of some sense of duty. She wanted him to be happy. Every night she prayed for his safe return. And she prayed he would return before her condition showed. She decided to let him have his life continue as it would have been without her. If he wanted “none of that” then she loved him enough to let him have it.

  The smell of rain was in the air. The clouds were dark and threatening. Martha dragged the shovel through the blackened pile of decaying earth. Ruth and Brighit sifted through the dried seeds for planting.

  “I don’t see how you can tell the good from the bad,” Brighit frowned.

  Ruth smiled back. “You are too impatient. See.” She held one brown seed before Brighit’s face. “Is it broken open?”

  “No?”

  “Brighit, maybe you should just help me.” Martha hefted the heavy tool again. “No knowledge needed for this.”

  “Not in her condition.” Ruth’s eyes widened.

  Brighit froze. Perhaps she hadn’t heard her right. She knew she was getting a little bigger around the middle but surely not noticeably so. She glanced over at Martha who had stopped as well. She shrugged at Brighit.

  “Sorry. I forgot,” Ruth said.

  Brighit gave them her most barely-able-to-tolerate-you look. “I do not know of what you speak.”

  Martha pressed her lips together as if the words would sneak out on their own if she wasn’t careful.

  Ruth raised her nose in a defiant stance.

  “You are with child, Brighit. We both—no—we all know it. We just don’t understand why you haven’t told us yourself.”

  “You are wrong. I am not with child.” Her throat closed off, too tight for her to even swallow.

  Ruth’s eyes widened. “How can you possibly not know?” She shook her hands in the general direction of Brighit’s swelling middle, apparently unable to put words together.

  Bright looked to the heaven, her hand on her hip. After a moment, she slid it across her middle rubbing her little babe that she had thought she’d be able to keep secret. “How long have you known?”

  “Two months at least.” Martha stretched her back and moved to stand beside her. “You’ve always been well endowed but heavens, it’s quite obvious.”

  Brighit wiped at the tears. “Do you think Peter will know when he sees me?”

  Ruth’s mouth dropped open and she stared at Martha. Martha’s eyes widened. “It’s more obvious every day. If he were to return now, he may not. Most men are not so observant. But why would you not want him to know?”

  “I love Peter with all my heart but you heard him. He did not want a wife or a family. With me he has both.”

  “But he loves you, Brighit.”

  “No. I think he is just an honorable man. He would never leave me in a position where I’d be treated as a fallen woman.”

  “I think you underestimate Peter.” Ruth shook her head. “A knight answers to no one but the King. He would not have married you simply because your brother said he must.”

  Brighit nibbled at her cheek. “My brother never told him he must marry me. It was all just this and that and nothing really was said right out in the open but the next thing I know, Peter is telling me to let it be and just go through with marrying him. I love him, so I did.”

  Ruth rubbed her hands together and brushed off her robe. “I think you need a rest. Let us go in before the rain starts and we get drenched.”

  Martha put an arm around Brighit. “Do not worry about what will happen when Peter returns. I’m sure he will be glad you are with child.”

  “No!” Brighit halted, pulling against her arm. “You cannot tell him! Please.” She glanced between the two women. “Promise me you will not tell him.”

  “Oh, Brighit, I fear you are making a terrible mistake.” Ruth’s eyes rounded. “We will not tell him but I pray you will do the right thing by him just as he has done by you.”

  Martha and Ruth left Brighit to follow behind through the front gates of the Priory. Incessant drumming became a fast-paced horse just coming into view in the distance.

  “Peter.” Brighit whispered the words. Her heart leapt in her chest. The women watched as the horse and rider came closer.

  “Look at you! You’re filthy.” Martha started her toward the front door.

  “Halt!” Peter’s order stilled all movement.

  Martha and Ruth exchanged glances. “I think we can safely wait within. It is you he wants to see, no doubt.”

  Brighit felt abandoned and the sound of the horse stopping just inside the gate set her heart to drumming in her ears. She heard him call to her and when she turned, the sun could have been bursting through the clouds with the intense pleasure that filled her.

  Peter took her in his arms, tight against his body. “I’ve dreamed of holding you for the past five months.”

  Brighit’s knees buckled as intense relief swept over her. He pulled her into his arms, right off the ground, then kissed her. Nose to nose, he smiled at her. “Sweet Brighit, I have missed you. I was a man dying of thirst for want of a drink of you.”

  He kissed her again, more gently this time. She opened her mouth to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She felt like a ship in a storm that had found safe harbor. “I have missed you, too.”

  A horse approached at a slower pace. He set her down and smiled again. “Mort!”

  “Greetings, Brighit! I’m not sure how my friend did not get thrown from his horse with the pace he took getting back to you.”

  Peter never took his eyes from her. “Mort, enough. See to the horses. I’m busy.”

  He lifted her in his arms and pushed his way into the Priory. “I’ve missed you more than I’ve missed anything in my life.” He shifted her head so he could kiss her on the mouth. “You are the sweetest thing I’ve tasted for months.”

  Brighit put her hand to his cheek, caressing it tenderly. “Peter, you do look thinner. Have you been eating?”

  He nuzzled into her neck as they turned away from the Great Hall. “No. I don’t want to talk about that. I
’m fine. Let me look into your eyes.”

  Brighit noticed the direction he was headed and she tensed. He kicked open the door to the Bishop’s chamber. He released her legs. She slid down to standing. His eyes closed in pleasure. “Just the touch of you against me renews my spirit.”

  With a hand on either side of her face, he took her mouth. The touch of his tongue against hers sent sparks straight to her core. Her body turned to mush and she clung to him for dear life. “I have missed you so.”

  He nibbled at her ear. “I’ve longed to hold you again.”

  His hand went to her head and he pulled back. “What?”

  He looked at her as if he’d never seen her before and stepped away. “What are you wearing? Why are you—” His eyes took in their surroundings.

  When she’d moved into the nun’s quarters, they put Bishop Odo’s chamber back in order. “Why does this room look like this?”

  Peter ran his fingers through his long hair then scratched along his scalp and turned away. “I don’t understand...”

  He turned back to her. “Have you been sleeping here?”

  “No. I was lonely. I missed you. I moved to sleep with the nuns.”

  He crossed his arms, his eyes ran the length of her nun’s clothing, up to the wimple on her head, and back down again before stopping at her face.

  “And why are you dressed like that?”

  The hard angles of his face matched the anger she saw in his eyes. She looked away. “It seemed easier to dress as the nuns do.”

  He moved closer. Close enough that she could feel the heat pour off him. Close enough that she could sense the tightly leashed desire within him. Close enough that all she needed to do was move against him and he would take her. He would have her beneath him. He would ravage her. He would make her body sing and she would be lost. She didn’t move.

  “Has something transpired since I left that I should be told about?” He glanced over her body, pausing at her bosom.

  Brighit held her breath. “No, my lord.”

  “Then I’m not sure why you look like a nun, sleep with the nuns, work with the nuns when I believe you are still my wife.”

  She looked down and paused before facing him. “We are wed, my lord. Of course. I just had time to think and... well...”

  Peter raised his eyebrows as if asking for better clarification. She hadn’t thought through what she would say. She hadn’t expected him to set off such happiness and longing when he returned. And she hadn’t expected him to act like he had missed her just as much.

  She gave him her back when her eyes filled. “Um, I just had been thinking—”

  He moved in closer to her. Her eyes shut. Her breathing became labored. She wanted him. Peter took a slow, deep breath. He was taking in the scent of her. She imagined he closed his eyes as he did it. Oh, dear God, she had not thought about how hard this would be.

  “Tell me, Brighit.” He was close enough that his breath brushed against her cheek when he spoke. She would die if she didn’t respond to his unspoken desire. The child moved within her, she shifted in surprise, bumping against him.

  Peter moaned as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against him. He rubbed his hardness against her bottom. “I have wanted you, woman.”

  His words were a hot whisper against her face. He slipped his hand under her wimple and released her hair in one gentle sweep. He nibbled her lobe. “Give me what I’ve longed for.”

  She moaned when he reached his hand under the outer robe and fondled her tender breasts. He pressed his mouth against the pulse of her neck, his hands immediately moving more tenderly. With the tip of his tongue, he moved along her neck, releasing her only to turn her toward him.

  His eyes were dark pools of deep desire, holding her gaze. He parted her robes, slipping first the gown over her head, then the stark, white chemise. She shivered when the cold touched her heated skin. Then his eyes were on her body. She held her breath. His hands followed the same path and his eyes closed as if overwhelmed by the feel of her under his hands. Pulling her close against him, she could feel his erection pressing into her.

  “Take me,” she said.

  He jerked the covering from the bed, lifted her into his arms, and deposited her with the utmost care onto the middle of the bed. He covered her and stilled. When she moved to touch him, he held her hand.

  “No. I’ve been away too long. I need a moment.”

  He dipped his head into her neck. His rapid breathing sent ripples of desire through her.

  “Please. Do not hold yourself away from me. I am here now.”

  He leaned on his forearms and searched her face. Reaching beneath his tunic, he yanked down his braies, his throbbing member pressed against her wetness.

  Her eyes closed in pleasure and he plunged into her. She exhaled. He braced himself and rode her hard. She welcomed each thrust and was quickly moaning against him. He covered her mouth with his, taking her sounds into himself. His tongue thrusting against her as well. Her passion was peaked. Panting, she cried out his name. Another thrust and he stilled within her, filling her with his seed. He pressed into her again, hard. He looked down at her.

  “This is where I belong. Did you have other ideas?”

  She looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

  He covered her breast with his hand, as if assessing some internal measure of her. She steadied her breath. He couldn’t know.

  “Any news here? Is there anything you wish to share with me?”

  Brighit refused to face him. She shook her head.

  Peter was surprised at the overwhelming joy that spread throughout him with the obvious condition of his wife. Brighit was with child. He was sincerely overjoyed. He was also thoroughly confused by her reaction to him.

  She snuggled against him where she lay still naked, sleeping beside him. He hugged her closer and kissed the top of her head. Perhaps allowing Tadhg to force him to marry her was not Peter’s best idea. Perhaps it left some seed of doubt about his feelings.

  When she’d asked him why he didn’t just tell them nothing happened, he thought she understood. He’d told her they both knew something happened. He was not willing to let her go. He realized his feelings for her. Feelings that were obvious every time he held her. Every time he kissed her. Every time he loved her.

  Brighit made a sound in her sleep and her hand slid over her belly. He wondered if the child could be felt yet.

  Despite the exhaustion of his body, his mind raced. The siege had taken much longer than he would have liked. Although it ended with the coming of terms for Emma and the soldiers, Ralph de Gael would be brought to London to face the King. Nothing had been discovered for certain about the Godwinsons. The Earls had lost much when Harold Godwinson was killed. Land. Power. Money. The idea of another Godwinson ruling England could be the impetus for the revolt. No such connection had been discovered for certain.

  And why was she wearing the nun’s robes? What was Brighit thinking? That she could just continue on with her vows as if he’d never married her? He was not going to let her just walk away. He would rather die than live without her. She’d professed her love to him so why this?

  He ran his hand along her side stopping at her belly.

  She snuggled closer still.

  He slid his hand along the new swell. His lungs expanded. It would be a boy. Or a girl. It mattered little. It would be from her. A pattering against his hand. He flattened his palm. A steady push and a slide.

  Brighit mumbled something and rolled away from him. Her full breasts pushing into his hand. He nibbled at her shoulder. Her breasts were heavy. She shifted when his hand brushed her nipple. And sensitive.

  “I’ve missed you so,” Peter whispered.

  He turned her face toward him and kissed her.

  She responded still not quite awake, turning into his arms.

  “Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Let me tell
you then.”

  Her eyes opened, still heavy with sleep and unfocused.

  “I heard a tune being played from the castle. It was beautiful and reminded me of you. I wanted you to tell me its name.”

  Fully awake suddenly, there was a wary look in her eyes.

  He continued. “I saw a bunch of blue flowers trying to survive beneath a tree where the snow hadn’t reached. They reminded me of the one you’d put in your hair. Do you remember?”

  She nodded, a frown creasing her brow.

  “Everywhere I looked, I saw something that I wanted to share with you.” He pushed her hair behind her ear. “And you weren’t there with me. I want you with me always, my lovely Brighit.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply. Then pulled away and smiled.

  “So how have things been here? You missed me enough to move to the nun’s quarters?”

  “I did. This room was exceedingly empty without you.”

  He kissed her again. “I’m sorry I had to leave you so soon. I hope to not leave you again for a very long while.”

  Her pupils widened.

  “How did you spend your days?”

  “Well, the nuns work very hard. So I worked very hard.”

  “Were you careful?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Careful? What do you mean?”

  Peter glanced away. “Just were you careful of yourself? Not working too hard?”

  “I’m a strong woman. I can work hard.”

  He turned back to her. “Is there nothing you wish to share with me?”

  “No.”

  He had a hard time hiding his disappointment. A deep sense of loss tripped along his spine. “Is there a reason you’re wearing the nun’s robes?”

  Her throat constricted. “Peter. I wanted you to know—”

  No! “I remember something else.”

  “This is very difficult for m—”

  He put his finger to her lips. “Do not.”

  They stared at each other and he knew she was going to try and send him away. All the clothing, the work, and leaving this room were all in preparation of her telling him goodbye. He had to convince her to change her mind.