Gabel took a deep breath to calm himself, then spoke to the stableboy in a more controlled voice. The lad had only erred slightly, feeding a colt who had already been well fed was not a crime worth the anger he had nearly buffeted the boy with. There was an ache gnawing at his insides which kept him taut and ready to lash out at everyone and everything that crossed his path. He had had but a brief taste of the fierce passion he shared with Ainslee, and he wanted, needed, more.
Out of consideration for the ordeal she had been through and her injuries, he had stayed out of her bed, not wanting to press his attentions on her when she was still healing. It was gallant and the right thing to do, but he hated every minute of it. Gabel knew that some of his urgency came from the knowledge that she would not be at Bellefleur for very much longer. Each night they slept apart was one more night lost forever. He forced a smile, ruffled the boy’s curls, and headed back into the keep. If he was fortunate, he could reach his bedchamber without meeting anyone. When, just inside the keep, he met Justice, he cursed. The grin on his young cousin’s handsome face told him that Justice was aware of what ailed him, and intended to tease him about it.
“Aye,” drawled Justice as Gabel slipped around him and started up the stairs. “I think it past time that you sought the bedchamber.”
“I am going to my bedchamber to clean the stable dirt from my hands,” Gabel replied, giving his cousin a repressive look that Justice gleefully ignored.
“Wrong bedchamber, if you intend to cure what ails you and what makes you most difficult to bear.”
“Ware what you say, cousin. I am in no humor to hear e’en the tiniest insult.”
“I would ne’er insult my most honorable cousin.”
“ ’Twas not me I referred to, and you know it well.”
Justice leaned against the stair post and shook his head. “I am not sure why you are putting us all through this ordeal. ’Tis not as if the woman has refused you, or told you to leave her be.”
“You cannot know what passes between me and Ainslee.”
“Nay, not all of it. Howbeit, I am not some sweet page who has ne‘er loved or lusted after a woman. I believe I also know Ainslee MacNairn. If she let you bed her once, ’tis not her who keeps you out of her bed now. You do. I but wonder why.”
“Have you forgotten the ordeal she suffered through because of Lady Margaret’s attempt to kill her?”
“Not at all. That was a week ago, cousin. The woman is healed now. In truth, except for her badly roughened and snow-burned skin, she was hale enough for what you crave by the very next day. You have claimed that she is not the same as the ladies we are accustomed to, that she is stronger, wilder, yet you treat her as the most delicate of flowers. I praise you for your gallantry, but I do wish you would put a swift end to it. Aye, as do most of your men, kinsmen, and maids.”
“I am sorry if you have found me such poor company these last few days,” Gabel snapped.
“Good. You should be. Half the maids and pages are hiding, and I should like to be able to assure them that you are not some changeling.”
Gabel cursed and headed up the stairs, trying to ignore his cousin’s laughter. He knew he had been short of temper in the last week, but he had not realized he had been as bad as Justice implied. Justice would not have been quite that insistently impudent without reason, however. Shaking his head over how poorly he was keeping his emotions chained, Gabel entered his bedchamber and began to clean away the dirt of a long day.
Once he was clean, Gabel hesitated only long enough to enjoy a goblet of wine, then he went straight to Ainslee’s door. He pretended not to see the guard’s relief when he waved the man away and entered Ainslee’s room. When she sat up from where she had been gracelessly sprawled on the bed and gave him a tentative smile, he inwardly sighed, then shut and latched the door behind him.
“Ainslee, have you decided that that night in the stable was a mistake?” he asked.
“Nay.” She blushed beneath the heated way he stared at her, and knew why he had come. “I never make mistakes,” she murmured and gave him a sweet, welcoming smile.
“ ’Tis to my advantage not to dispute that arrogance.”
“Aye, very much so.”
Ainslee’s eyes widened when he strode to the bed, shedding his tunic and shirt as he walked. She shifted a little when he sat down on the edge of the bed and, still watching her with that tightly hungry expression, he yanked off his boots and hose. A soft cry of surprise escaped her when he tumbled her down on to the bed and sprawled on top of her. His intensity began to infect her, and she helped him as he pulled off the robe she wore. As he took her mouth in a hot, fierce kiss, she tugged off his braies. They both groaned as their flesh met
In but a moment, Ainslee lost herself in the hurried frenzy of his lovemaking. His lips and hands were everywhere, causing her passion to spiral out of control. A sharp cry of welcome escaped her when he swiftly joined their bodies, but she gasped in dismay when he suddenly grew still. She slowly opened her eyes, confused and afraid, especially when she saw the expression on his flushed face. It was impossible to guess what his look meant.
“I have hurt you,” he whispered in a hoarse, unsteady voice.
Relieved that he only feared that he had been too rough with her, Ainslee laughed and curled her body tightly around his, pulling him closer and echoing the tremor that ripped through his strong body. “Fool,” she whispered with an affection she could not hide. “Has the great knight of Bellefleur suddenly forgotten how to wield his sword?” she teased, and laughed again when he grinned and began to move.
Passion soon stole away all her amusement. She clung to him as he rapidly satisfied the need she had ached with for days. When the culmination of her desire flooded her body, she cried out his name and told him of her love in Gaelic. The way he echoed her cries of ecstasy was music to her ears. She continued to keep her body wrapped around his as he collapsed in her arms and they lay entwined, struggling to regain their senses.
When he finally eased free of her hold, she stretched, feeling relaxed and content for the first time in days. She did not even flinch when he bathed her before returning to her embrace. This was neither the time nor the place for too much modesty.
“You have healed almost completely,” he murmured against her skin, as he took her hand to his lips and kissed her palm.
“I wasna badly injured in my ordeal,” she said, pleased to find that he did not feel her skin was now too rough.
“I was most relieved when the weather eased and I could rid Bellefleur of Lady Margaret and her skulking father. ’Twill be difficult to face them when next I go to court.”
“Just be certain that ye do keep facing them, and ne’er give them a chance to creep up behind you,” she warned.
“My back will always be well guarded.” He held her close and nuzzled her thick, silken hair. “I stayed away too long.”
“I began to think ye had changed your mind.”
“About wanting you? Nay. I was being gallant.”
“Ah, and now ye have ceased to be gallant?”
“Justice told me I was frightening the maids and the pages.” He smiled when she laughed. “Gallantry was making me a most ill-tempered man, badly souring my temper. ’Twas lying abed alone at night and thinking too long on where I would rather be.”
“Here?” she asked, lightly running her feet up and down his calves.
“Exactly here.” He touched a kiss to the tip of each breast, murmuring his pleasure when they immediately hardened in invitation. “I will not leave here again.”
Not until I am sent back to Kengarvey, Ainslee mused, then forced that thought from her mind. It made her sad, and this was no time to become mournful. She also feared such thoughts might prompt her to ask questions better left unasked. She knew exactly what Gabel wanted of her—a passionate, undemanding lover—and she was determined to be just that. While she was at Bellefleur she would revel in the passion they inspired in each other,
ask no awkward questions, and make no demands. Since she would get none of the answers she wanted and he could never give her what she truly needed, there was no point in ruining the time they could share.
For a moment she grew angry, at Gabel and at herself. It seemed so weak to swallow all she wanted to say and to force herself to act in a certain way just to keep him happy. This was not her. To please him and to keep everything falsely blissful, she was playing the sweet supplicant, giving all and asking nothing. It annoyed her that Gabel did not seem to notice how odd it was for her to act that way. He may not have known her very long, but she was sure he had seen that she was not some sweet acquiescent girl.
As he nuzzled her breasts and she combed her fingers through his thick black hair, she fought down that anger. It was unfair. Gabel had not forced her down the path she was walking. She had chosen it herself, had made the decision all unaided and uncoerced to keep her mouth shut and pretend that she needed nothing more than what he offered. There was some comfort to be found in the knowledge that the passion they shared was a special thing. Despite her own innocence, she was sure that such a fierce desire did not come often, and she was also sure that Gabel fully shared it. She promised to remind herself of that the next time she grew angry with the situation.
“You have grown very quiet, Ainslee,” he said as he touched a kiss to her cheek.
“Is there something ye wish to discuss?” she asked as she smoothed her hands down his back.
“Nay. It but seemed to be a most serious silence, and I wondered if anything troubled you.”
“Nay. I just didna have anything to say. Weel, I was wondering about the Frasers,” she said, considering it only a small lie, for she had thought about them earlier in the day. “I but hope that they dinna try to strike at my family because they are angry that they failed to kill me.” She frowned when he smiled crookedly. “I didna think that was funny.”
“Their attempts to murder you were certainly not funny.” He gently kissed her as he ran his hands up and down her body. “And an attack upon your family would not be very humorous either. ’Tis just the way you spoke of it. As I have said, you have a strange way with words, Ainslee MacNairn.”
Gabel frowned as he flopped onto his back and gently pulled her into his arms. “I had not considered the possibility that the Frasers may try to vent their fury upon your family. ’Twould not be just you or your clansmen that it could harm. Such a thing would greatly hurt my attempts to gain some sort of truce and I have always believed that a treaty is preferable to a killing.”
“Weel, killing the troublemaker would certainly solve the problems he stirs up.”
“True, but a live ally is better than a dead enemy. The more allies one has, the less one needs to fear his enemies.”
“Ah, there is some truth in that, I suppose.”
Ainslee did not want her clan attacked, for many would lose their lives and not everyone at Kengarvey was guilty of scorning their king. She did not believe her father would ever be Gabel’s ally, however. Duggan MacNairn did not have allies; he had people he loathed and people he robbed from. She did not think she ought to say so. If she spoke too much about how little Gabel could trust her family, he might well decide that there was no gain in even trying to treat with her father. She did not want to see any of her people killed and know that, if she had just kept silent, they might have lived, at least for a little while longer.
“Forgive me, Ainslee,” Gabel said quietly, breaking into her thoughts.
“For what?” she asked as she straddled his body.
“For speaking of all the ill which could befall your clan. I often forget that you are a MacNairn.”
“There are times when I should like to forget that too, but there is no discarding the blood in one’s veins just because you do not like the mon who put it there.”
Gabel forgot what he wanted to reply to that as Ainslee brushed soft, warm kisses over his throat. She was perched upon his body in a way that had him aroused anew. Every movement of her lithe body against his increased his desire. He closed his eyes as she stroked him with her small hands and began to cover his chest with kisses. As coherently as he could, he urged her on in her boldness with flattery and praise, letting her know how good she was making him feel.
When her kisses reached his stomach, slipping ever lower, he curled his fingers in her soft hair, wanting to urge her on, yet afraid of shocking her so badly that she ceased her attentions completely. While he was still trying to decide, she brushed a kiss over his manhood and he groaned, jerking slightly from the pleasure that tore through him. She tensed and began to pull away, but he held her in place. He struggled to enjoy her unskilled but enflaming caresses for as long as he could, but soon realized that his passion was still too hot and new for such control. With a soft growl, he pulled her up his body. His hands on her slim hips, he directed her in the joining of their bodies.
To his delight, Ainslee needed little direction. Her movements quickly became smooth, her skill increasing with every thrust. Gabel watched her and, until passion forced his eyes closed, decided he had never seen anything so enticing.
Ainslee glanced up at Gabel as she lay curled up in his arms, lifting her head from his chest only enough to see him clearly. She wished to know that she had not been too bold. It seemed reasonable to her that, if he could kiss and caress her wherever he pleased, then she should be able to do the same to him. It was not until their pleasure left them sated, collapsed in each other’s arms and trying to catch their breath, that she began to think that she may have overstepped. Men did not always want women to act upon their own.
“Now ye are the one who is, mayhaps, a wee bit too quiet,” she murmured, smiling a little timidly when he looked at her.
“A man needs time to regain his breath after such strenuous lovemaking,” he said, then smiled and kissed her forehead.
“Strenuous, was it?” She relaxed a little, for he did not sound as if she had shocked or offended him, nor was he looking at her as if she had behaved like some whore.
“Mightily so. I feel as if I have had all the strength drained from my body.”
“Aha, so then ye are at my mercy.”
“After what we just shared, I can think of few places I would rather be.”
“Then ye dinna think I was too bold?” she asked, then inwardly cursed her inability to tame her tongue.
“Is that why you watch me so warily? Have you been waiting for me to berate you, or climb from this bed so shocked by your behavior that I must leave?”
“Ye need not make a jest of my concerns,” she muttered, frowning when he grinned, but her stern expression did not dim his smile at all.
“I would never make jest of you, sweet Ainslee.” He brushed the stray wisps of hair from her face. “Ah, but you are a confusing woman. You blush so prettily, yet make love so freely. You speak sharply and have the air of a prickly thistle, but when one peers into your heart, they find only thistledown.” He laughed at her confused expression and hugged her. “Nay, I did not find you too bold. I find you a delight, a woman who can drive a man to madness, and one who heats my blood with but a smile. When I have recovered sufficiently from your newfound skills, I will show you just how deeply I appreciate that wildness in you which makes you do as you want.”
Ainslee snuggled against him, murmuring her pleasure as he stroked her. She was not sure what his pretty words meant or how seriously she should take them, but they pleased her. There was a true delight behind his words and in his eyes. She sensed that she surprised him because no other woman had treated him so, and that also pleased her. If she was to linger in his mind, she had to be different from the others he had known. The way he was acting told her that she had taken the first step to making herself, if not the best lover he had ever had, at least one of the more memorable. It was small consolation when she wanted and needed his love, but she knew that one day she would be able to find great satisfaction in the knowledge. She might be ab
le to accept that he would never love her and that, once she returned to Kengarvey, she would never see him again, but she did not think she would ever be able to accept being forgotten. All she prayed for now was the gift of time, time enough to truly establish herself within his mind.
Twelve
“There has been another reply from your father,” Gabel announced as he strode into Ainslee’s bedchamber.
Ainslee tensed, clutching her hair comb tightly. From where she sat on a sheepskin before the fire, she kept her gaze fixed upon Gabel’s boots as he walked over to her. All the pleasure she had gained from her hot bath abruptly faded. Inwardly taking a deep breath to calm herself, she began to slowly pull the comb through her hair.
It had been a fortnight since the storm, and she had allowed herself to be lulled into a false sense of calm and happiness, spending her days within the safe, elegant Bellefleur and her nights curled up contentedly in Gabel’s strong arms. The Frasers had gone, her dog roamed freely throughout the keep, Ronald was now completely healed, and she was blissfully wrapped in passion every time she and Gabel had some time alone. That had made it easy to push aside all of her doubts and concerns. Now her father had rudely intruded into her dream world. All she could do was hope that her father was going to continue to be stubborn, lengthening the negotiations, but something about Gabel’s expression made her feel certain that that was not going to happen.
“Does my father want me back now?” she asked, feeling that she had a firm enough hand on her errant emotions to look at him again.
“Well, he still does not agree to all I ask, not fully,” replied Gabel as he sat down next to her.
My Valiant Knight Page 14
