Winter's Flame (Seasons of Fortitude Series Book 4)

by Elizabeth Rose

  “I have never seen anything like it before,” she told him, not able to pull her eyes away from his half-naked body now.

  He continued to talk as he removed his shoes and belt. “I once had a very talented visitor that came from the faraway land of sheiks. He told me he was a painter and had witnessed what went on in the sheik’s bedchamber. So, I hired him to paint on my walls what he’d seen. Of course, I never expected anything like this. But I like to be different.”

  “I like to be different, too,” she said, her eyes scanning the walls again, settling on two lovers in a garden. A naked woman was on a swing made from vines, hanging from a tree. Below her was a naked man on the ground, with his face – right between her legs. “Oh, my!” she cried out aloud.

  “We can try that position if you’d like. I’ve tried them all, and I assure you they are very satisfying to both partners.”

  When she looked back again, he was naked. Her eyes roamed down his chest to the dark arrow of crisp curls that led to his groin area. She cried out, once more, when she saw his well-endowed manhood, straight as the man’s in the painting. What had she gotten herself into? She should leave right now, but a part of her wanted more than anything to stay.

  Martin chuckled, liking the way the little wench’s jaw fell open when she looked at his hardened manhood. He was so randy he would have a hard time holding back so she could enjoy the act, too. Most lords didn’t care if their servants or mistresses in bed were satisfied. He, on the other hand, always wanted to please his women first. And this one – this one, he wanted to please all night long.

  He leaned a knee on the bed and pushed her gown up to her waist.

  “What are you doing?” she asked from a half-sitting, half-lying position. The smell of roses drifted from her body, driving him insane. She smelled like a noble lady, not like a commoner. He usually didn’t take noblewomen to his bed because, if he did, it would ruin the girl’s reputation and no nobleman would ever marry her. He’d only had one noblewoman in his life, and it was because the lady pushed herself on him. Of course, he was betrothed to her at the time.

  He usually kept his romps in the bedchamber to lower-class women like Winnie. It was safer this way. They were also always more than willing to spend the night with him. He’d heard the servants on more than one occasion talking, wishing that they would be the next one he took to his bed.

  “I would think you’d know it is easier to couple without all the layers of clothing between us,” he said to her. “Unless you’d rather do it with your clothes still on. I’ve tried it that way before, too.”

  “Is there anything you haven’t tried?” she asked, sounding a bit haughty if he wasn’t mistaken.

  “I haven’t tried this yet – with you.” He pushed her gown up over her head and threw it to the floor. Then he quickly removed her shift, running his hands up to caress her breasts, bringing her nipples quickly to peaks. When he looked at her, she had her head thrown back and her eyes closed.

  In one motion, he’d removed her underclothes, hose, and shoes, leaving her stark naked. “God’s eyes, you are beautiful,” he said under his breath, gently running his hands over the curves of her hips, trailing his fingers through the dark curls of her womanly mound. He leaned over and kissed her. At the same time, he slipped his finger between her folds, feeling her wet heat, knowing she wanted this as much as he did right now.

  Positioning his body between her legs, he leaned over, running his fingers up her smooth skin, delighting in watching her squirm.

  “Do you like this?” he whispered in her ear, letting his tongue flick out to lick her.

  “I – I do,” she said through heavy breathing. He felt her chest rising and falling beneath him.

  “Look at the wall,” he told her, kissing her neck, letting his mouth trail to her breasts. When she turned her head to look at the painting, he suckled her like the men in the painting did to the woman.

  She moaned and arched her back. Her head went backward, but she kept looking at the wall. He knew she was almost ready. He kissed her again, this time letting his tongue slip inside her mouth. Then he rapidly flicked his tongue in and out of her mouth, mimicking the motions of the man humping the woman in the painting.

  Winter’s head spun and her body tingled in glorious titillation as she drank in the scene of the lovers on the wall. Her thoughts were so confused right now that she couldn’t think straight. Every time she was about to push him away, he did something else to excite her. The core of her being was like a hot flame of the forge and, right now, she didn’t want to do anything to extinguish it.

  This man was handsome, exciting, and an excellent kisser. Not that she had anything to compare it to, but it was better than she could have ever imagined. When he suckled at her breasts, her eyes were on the wall, and she felt like she was part of this crazy, lust-filled world. For some reason, she enjoyed it.

  He’d not only used his tongue to enter her body, but he’d also used his finger. Her head kept telling her this was wrong, but her heart said if she didn’t experience making love with this man tonight, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

  She’d always wanted to make love with a man but was too afraid to try it. After all, a noblewoman was supposed to be a virgin on her wedding night. Her sisters had been virgins – except for her eldest sister, Spring. But Spring had been raised a warrior, so that was to be expected.

  “You like pretending you are a part of this world, don’t you?” he asked, speaking about the paintings on the wall. Right after he said it, he started placing kisses down her torso. When his mouth reached her stomach, his tongue shot out and encircled her navel. She nearly jumped off the bed in surprise. It felt so sensuous that now she felt a tingling and pulsing between her thighs.

  “I – I’m not supposed to do this,” she whispered, barely able to say the words, breathing very heavy.

  “Are you afraid what your father might say?”

  Her father. Ross Douglas. He would kill both of them if he ever found out. Ross was a Scot with a terrible temper. When he’d found out Autumn was pregnant at her wedding, he’d almost had Ravenscar’s head. That is, until Autumn pointed out that it was their second wedding – one that her family could attend, after they’d already been married for weeks.

  “My f-father will kill you,” she said.

  “I’ll talk to him, don’t worry,” said Martin, pressing the heat of his body up against hers. “He doesn’t seem like the type of man who has a temper.”

  “My brothers do,” she said, throwing back her head as his hands spread her legs and he positioned his face at the door to her womanhood. Her eyes focused now on the lover in the garden on the swing.

  “I didn’t know you had more brothers. I thought Josef was the only one, and he’s in no position to object to anything I do.”

  “I have three,” she said as he lifted her hips and buried his face between her thighs. Her eyes shot open in surprise when his tongue flicked out, tracing her nether region. She moaned and gripped the pillows as her body vibrated and her senses reeled. She felt herself climbing higher and higher, and her entire body cried out for release. She was about to climax when she remembered what Nairnie said. If Martin so much as touched her, she was supposed to tell him she was a lady.

  Her senses had taken such a turn that she’d almost forgotten. “I – I’m a lady,” she cried out, so close to reaching that precipice that she felt as if she would shatter.

  “Of course, you are. You’re my Lady Blacksmith. And a lady should find her pleasure, so I’m going to make sure you find yours.”

  “Nay. I – I really am.” She looked at him as he positioned his engorged manhood between her legs.

  “Look at the wall, Lady Blacksmith,” he said with a chuckle. Her head turned and she, once again, surveyed the lovers. There was nothing she could do to stop him because he thought she was saying she was a lady, just playing a game. Mayhap she could have told him again, but as soon as his tip e
ntered her, she was so stimulated and excited that she let herself go. “Scream out, Lady Blacksmith. Let me hear your pleasure.”

  Winter screamed out, moaning in passion, feeling Martin break her wall of innocence. Liquid love flowed between them as he held her hips and thrust his engorged manhood into her. She had thought it would hurt, but it didn’t. Mayhap it was because he had taken the measures to prepare her adequately for the act.

  Like the lovers on the wall, she let her cares go, enjoying every minute of making love with Lord de Grey. He was talented in more ways than one. Even when he was in the midst of the act, he’d brought her to completion yet another time before he thought to be sated. The room became very hot, and her body became so alive that she realized she had been missing out on something she never wanted to be without again.

  When Martin sowed his seed within her, it only managed to excite her more. He collapsed on the bed next to her, but she wasn’t ready to stop. She rolled atop him, trying to continue. But when her hand touched him below the waist, she realized it was too late. He was finished.

  “I knew you’d be a wildcat in bed,” he told her, trying hard to regain his breath. “But I can’t do it any longer. Not now,” he told her, smoothing down her hair with his hand and gently caressing her cheek.

  Tears started to fall from her eyes when she realized just what she had done. Her curiosity had gotten the best of her. Although it was the best feeling in the world, she was no longer a virgin. Suddenly, fear filled her being.

  What would her father say if he found out? And, God willing, her brothers would never hear about this or they would kill Martin on the spot. Both of those thoughts terrified her, but not nearly as much as what she was going to have to tell Nairnie when she got back to her room. Hadn’t Nairnie warned her to stay away from Martin? She should never have come to his bedchamber tonight. What had she been thinking?

  Mayhap, she could have stopped herself from acting like a strumpet if he hadn’t told her to look at the damned wall. She brushed away a tear and scooted off the bed, hurriedly pulling her clothes into place.

  “You’re crying?” asked Martin, pushing up on his elbow. “Winnie, just wait a few minutes. I’m sure I’ll be able to do it again, I just need time to catch my breath.”

  “That’s not why I’m crying,” she told him, feeling angry now. She wasn’t sure if she was angrier with him for seducing her or with herself for not being honest with him from the start.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked. “Didn’t you like it?”

  “Yes, I liked it,” she shouted, wanting to kill him for bringing her here in the first place. “I liked it too much, and that is the problem.” She pulled up her hose and sat on the bed to don her shoes.

  “You make no sense. Where are you going?”

  “I have to leave.”

  “All right. We’ll do it again tomorrow night if you’d like.”

  “Nay!” She jumped up with her hands on her hips. “We won’t do it tomorrow and not the day after that. We will never make love again, and you will never tell anyone about this.”

  He gave her a look as if she were addled, pushing up to a sitting position. When he did, his hand came down on a spot of blood on the sheets. He looked at his hand and then over to her. “Oh, Winnie, I had no idea.” His words held sympathy and he sounded as if he were truly sorry. “You were a virgin. I didn’t know. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “That is the least of my problems,” she said, turning and running from the room.

  Martin jumped to his feet, meaning to go after Winnie, but she’d already left the room and slammed the door. His foot kicked something in the rushes. He looked down to see the heart-shaped key he’d given her at his feet.

  “She’s not angry about losing her virginity,” he said, understanding it now. “Nay. She’s in love with me!”

  He blew a puff of air from his mouth and sank back on the bed, wondering what to do. He’d taken the girl’s virginity, and now she’d fallen in love with him. He never meant for that to happen. He’d only been looking for a wild romp in the bedchamber, but he’d gotten more than he’d bargained for now. He looked back to the heart-shaped key still lying in the rushes and thought about what Winnie had said. Love was stronger than any blade ever forged.

  Damn, why did he feel so horrible for this whole situation? And why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? It was more than raw lust like he had with other wenches. Something about this girl was special. He felt a pain in his heart and didn’t understand it at all. God, he hoped he wasn’t starting to have real feelings for her. She was only a commoner! The last thing he wanted was to fall in love with a girl he could never make his wife.

  Chapter 8

  Winter took out her frustration the next morning by hitting the hammer hard against the Damascus steel atop the anvil. She’d been able to sneak into her bedchamber while Nairnie was sleeping last night. The woman could sleep through anything, and Winter was thankful for that. Nairnie was sure to know what she did. Winter wasn’t ready to answer her questions. That’s why she arose before sunup and headed to the blacksmith shop while Nairnie was still asleep.

  “Was it really necessary to start the forge this early?” asked Wallace with a yawn. He went over and stoked the coals in the hearth.

  “It is better if I do as much work as possible while Lord de Grey is still in bed,” she told him. “As soon as we see him approach, you are going to have to take my place.”

  “Can’t we just tell him the truth?” asked Wallace, putting down the poker and wiping his hands on a rag. “I don’t like lying to him, Lady Winter. He is nobility. It could mean repercussions for my son or me.”

  “Remember never to call me Lady Winter around him,” she reminded him, putting down the hammer and shoving the metal back into the fire to heat it up. She’d been working on it since she got here and it was starting to take on the shape of a sword. “Don’t worry about yourself or Josef. I’ll make certain Lord de Grey does nothing to harm you.”

  “Did you find out where he’s keeping Josef?” asked Wallace.

  Winter shook her head, feeling sorry that she’d forgotten to get this information out of Martin. She’d let Wallace down. “Nay. I didn’t have a chance, but I will ask him soon.”

  “Didn’t have a chance?” Wallace shook his head. “I saw you leave the great hall with him. And when I retired for the evening, Nairnie told me you had yet to return. What were you doing all that time?”

  The metal glowed orange, so she used the tongs to pull it from the fire and lay it back on the anvil. Once again, she started to bang out the shape of the blade.

  “That’s what I’d like to ken.” Nairnie stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

  “Nairnie. Good morning,” said Winter, keeping her eyes on her work. She started to pound harder to drown out the sound of the barrage of questions that was sure to come.

  “Dinna try to avoid me, lassie. I ken ye were up to no good with Lord de Grey last night. Please tell me ye dinna do anythin’ that ye shouldna have.”

  “What I do is no concern of yours,” she told Nairnie, shaping the edges of the sword.

  “Bid the devil, ye let him bed ye!” exclaimed Nairnie. “I told ye to tell him ye are a lady.”

  “I did.” She stopped hammering and lowered the tool. “I told him, but he didn’t believe me.”

  “Why not?” asked Wallace.

  “Because he thought we were . . . playing a game.” She looked the other way, embarrassed.

  The sound of whistling came from outside the shop. Winter looked up to see Martin heading toward the smithy, whistling a lively tune. He had a spring in his step if she wasn’t mistaken. His squire, Rock, was carrying something and following him.

  “Wallace, quick, take my place.” She tore off the glove and gave it to the blacksmith, switching positions with him. “Just pretend to be working on the sword but don’t really do anything. With your bad eyesight, we don’t want the ste
el ruined.”

  “Aye, my lady,” said Wallace, moving into position.

  “Don’t call me, my lady,” she told him. Then she looked over to Nairnie’s scowling face. “Just keep calling me Winnie, both of you. I don’t want him to know my name is Winter or he might realize who my brothers are.”

  “As he should,” said Nairnie, still giving her the evil eye.

  “He will know, Nairnie, but later. After we’ve finished the sword and secured Josef.”

  “I willna continue to be a part of this farce,” spat Nairnie.

  “Please,” begged Winter. “If you won’t do it for me, then do it for Wallace and Josef.”

  Martin entered the smithy, stopping the whistling as soon as he saw them. Rock walked into the room right behind him.

  “Well, you are all up early today,” Martin said, taking in the fact three of them were there.

  “I thought it best if I – we,” Winter corrected herself glancing over to Wallace, “got an early start on your sword.”

  “Aye, I suppose that was a good idea. Hello, Nairnie,” he said, nodding his head to the old woman in greeting.

  “Hrmph,” she said with a breath of air from her mouth. She turned and left the smithy without another word.

  “What has rumpled her feathers this morning?” asked Martin, watching her go.

  “I’m sure I don’t know, my lord,” said his squire.

  “Never mind. I’d like to see the progress on my sword.” He headed over to inspect the work on the anvil, stopping to whisper to Winter along the way. “I’m looking forward to picking up where we left off, later tonight.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll be too busy,” said Winter, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks just thinking about the ecstasy of last night. He reached out to touch her hair, but she quickly moved away from him and headed over to Wallace. “The shape of your sword and the length of it have been determined,” she said, pointing to the chunk of metal that was starting to look like an actual weapon.