My Lady Faye

by Sarah Hegger

  Simon clung to Roger’s shoulders, his face pale and tear streaked, but wearing a huge grin.

  “You came.” She dug her hands into her father’s hauberk, part of her brain still sure it could not be possible.

  “Of course, I came.” Emotion roughened her father’s voice. “Why do my daughters never believe I will?”

  Faye laughed and sobbed all at once. “You took too long.”

  “Aye.” Sir Arthur kissed the top of her head. “But then I know war is not always fought at a run.”

  “Do you really have a writ from King Henry?”

  Sir Arthur grinned. “Aye, William went to London and pled your case. You know William. He can talk the birds from the trees. We came as soon as we had the writ and could raise an army.”

  “I am extremely happy to see you.”

  “Sweeting.” Her father grew misty eyed. “I did not abandon you and your boy. You must know I would never do that.”

  “I know.” Faye scrubbed the tears from her cheek. “I love you.”

  Sir Arthur coughed and cleared his throat. “Here now. Of course you do. You are my Fairest Faye.”

  “Only not so fair at the moment.”

  Sir Arthur studied her face, lingering over each injury. “He will pay, sweeting. Never fear.”

  “Let me see.” Roger pushed in front of her. He took a sharp breath. “I am going to enjoy this.”

  “As will we all.” Sir Arthur cupped her chin.

  “How did you escape?” Roger asked.

  “I had some help.” Faye disentangled herself from her father. “Sir John left the door open for me and, I suspect, the postern gate. I do not think he supports Calder’s decision.”

  Roger’s face split in a feral grin. “It appears Calder’s troubles are only beginning.”

  “What will do you now?”

  Roger folded his arms over his chest. “You and Simon will leave for Anglesea at first light. We will stay and teach Calder what happens to those who challenge Anglesea.”

  “A siege?”

  “Aye.” Roger grinned at the prospect. “And with the full blessing of the crown.”

  “How is Arthur?” She turned to her father.

  “He is well.” Sir Arthur touched his cheek. “He misses his mother, but between Mary, Beatrice and Nurse they have him well in hand.”

  On the morrow she would see her youngest son. It was finally over. The blood drained from her face with relief and she swayed.

  Sir Arthur hugged her to him. “It is done.”

  Footsteps scuffed outside the tent.

  “Ah.” Roger grinned at her. “It took him longer than I thought.”

  Chapter 22

  Faye caught her breath as the tent opened and Gregory stood there. She tried to take all of him in, in one glance.

  His gaze locked on her and stuck. “Thank you, Lord.”

  “Faye.” Almost knocking Gregory out of the way, William barreled in behind and swept her into a hard hug. “We were moments from coming over the walls after you.” William examined her face, lingering on her bruised lip and eye. “I see we did not come fast enough. Whoreson!” William’s face tightened in fury. “He will pay for this as well.”

  “Gregory.” Simon wriggled out of Roger’s hold. “You should have seen us. We snuck through the chapel and into the crypt. There were ghosts down there, but we did not care. We were brave.”

  “Aye.” Gregory’s voice thickened and he cleared his throat. “You were very brave.”

  “Come.” Roger took the boy by the hand. “And we will find you something to fill that maw you call a belly.” He leant over Simon and sniffed. “And wash the stink from you.”

  “I do not stink.” Simon stiffened.

  “Aye, you do.” Roger rumpled his hair. “And you can either bathe here or I will let Nurse catch a whiff of you on the morrow.”

  Her father and brothers left the tent with Simon. Alone with Gregory. Her legs melted to the spot. Part of her wanted to fling herself into his arms, but another part whispered caution. His stern face and tense carriage kept her at a distance. “I am sorry about Aldous.”

  Gregory flinched and nodded. “He was a good man.”

  The width of the battle tent yawned between them.

  “How did you do it? Escape.” Stone-faced.

  “Sir John left the door open. I believe he opened the postern gate as well.”

  “Sir John?” Gregory nodded. “He is loyal to Calder, but his heart is in the right place.”

  “Gregory?” Words welled in her throat, but she could not speak them. So much to say and yet no way to speak of it all.

  “He beat you.” Gregory spoke coldly and she shivered.

  She touched her fingers to the bruise on her cheek. “It is not as bad as it looks.”

  “Jesu, Faye.” He dropped his head, shoulders slumped as if he were beaten. “I know not how to do this?”

  “Do what?”

  “To beg your forgiveness.” Faye gasped at the depth of anguish in his face as he looked up. He vibrated with it and his hands trembled.

  “You are not responsible for what Calder did.” As he had for her, Faye longed to soothe the torment from him. To rest in his arms and comfort him, like he had her so many times.

  “Nay.” He balled his hands into fists. “I am not worthy. You were mine to protect and I failed you.”

  “Gregory…” She did not want his guilt. It was his love she craved.

  “Let me say this. I must. We have gone too long with secrets and silence.” His voice cracked on a deep breath. “I knew, Faye, what Calder did to you for all the years of your marriage. I knew and I did not act.”

  “He was my husband.”

  “Husband?” Gregory gave a bitter bark of laugher. “He was never your husband, Faye. I was that, in all but name and…” The other, the thing they never spoke of. Desire, lust, love. He scrubbed his fingers across his scalp. “I was the one you turned to for protection. It was I who cherished and loved you, not Calder. And yet, I stood idly by while he hurt you. I should have acted years before I did.”

  She wanted to deny it, but his words cracked open a secret place within her. All those times she had left Calder and sought Gregory, had she not been waiting for him to save her? Aye, she had. And he had patched her up, shielded her from prying eyes, but always stood aside when Calder returned for more. Her anger wasn’t rational, or even fair, but it was there beside the young girl who had wanted him so desperately to love her back and rescue her. “You believed you did the right thing.”

  The time for lies and evasions long past, they stood bare before each other.

  “I wanted you to save me.” The words hurt her throat as she said them. So long contained, they came out sharp and barbed.

  “Aye.” His jaw tightened. “In my heart I knew as much, but I hid behind my intended vows and my belief I was right. I told myself I honored marriage, but I was a coward. I knew if I gave in to what my heart desired most, I would have to face the lie of my future as a priest. This I could accept, but you paid the price.”

  “You are still hiding.” The anger rose from a deep place she no longer had the strength to deny. “Now you are hiding behind your guilt and I am still standing before you.”

  “You are right.” He threw his hands out before him in supplication. “Since he took you, I have thought endlessly of what I would do if I finally had you safe. And now, I stand here, trembling like a child, too frightened to do what I most want.”

  His admission staggered her. Tall and strong and capable, every inch a warrior and at this moment beset and held frozen by his fear. And her. Her terror ran as deep, right through to the heart of her. Here was all she had dreamt of and desired. No more pretense and nothing but themselves holding them back.

  Love. What a tiny word encompassing everything between them. All the pain and longing, all the missed chances and wasted time. Love me, her soul whisper
ed. Take me and love me and heal this between us. Her legs remained rooted to the spot.

  He took a small step toward her and her heart leapt into her throat. “Forgive me,” he said, his pain open and plain for her to read on his face. “Forgive me I did not take you and shelter you that first time I saw Calder’s mark on your flesh.” Another step. “Forgive me for each hurt I allowed you to suffer and did not act.”

  She nodded, her neck stiff. The tightness in her chest unraveled the tiniest bit. Had some part of her always needed to hear this? How else to explain how she stood still and listened with her soul split wide open.

  “Forgive me I had not the courage to tell you all you meant to me.” He drew closer.

  A sob burst from her. How she had longed to hear him say, just once, the words that would give her hope. The yearning had near torn her apart at times and still, she had clung.

  “Forgive me that I left you when I should have remained by your side and been the man you deserved.”

  The pain seared through her. Faye crossed her arms to contain it. The pain of watching from that blasted casement as he rode away to the Abbey. He had not even turned to see her standing there, with her love on offer. If he had turned once, but he had kept riding. Away from her. Out of her life.

  He stood right before her, the heat from him tangible on her skin.

  “You never even faltered.” The picture was seared in her mind. Gregory, back straight, as he rode away from her.

  “I was too craven to turn. I knew if I did, I would never leave.”

  “Why?” Dear Lord, it hurt. She could not bear it. Faye folded into herself to protect her aching middle.

  His hands warmed her arms. “I could not accept my love for you.”

  Calder had never come close to inflicting this degree of agony on her. She needed to strike out and protect the pain. “I have no forgiveness for you.”

  “Nay.” He tugged her closer.

  Faye wrenched at his hold. He had no right to hold her, speak to her this way, make her hurt this badly when he would only turn about and leave her once again. “I cannot.”

  “I love you.” He wrapped his arms about her. “Forgive me. Not because I deserve it, but because there has been too much pain between us.”

  “Nay.” Even now, with all her old hurts rising to the fore, she wanted to rest her head against him and revel in the love he professed. It is too late, her hurt whispered.

  “Forgive me I failed to protect you from him this time, as well.” He asked too much. She did not have it in her to give him what he asked. He brushed his lips over her temple as he held her tight against his chest. “I love you.”

  Faye railed against it. Even as her female form cleaved to his, soft where he was hard, frail and weak where he was strong. She hated it and she gloried in it. “Let me go.”

  “Nay.” His arms made it difficult to draw breath. “You are the wife of my heart and I can never let you go again.”

  She dug her hands into his waist. She wanted to shove him away and hold him closer.

  “I will never leave you again. I will never allow anyone to hurt you, myself included. I give you my oath, Faye.”

  “The church?” They were all the words she had to ask the question clinging to her mind.

  “God would not have blessed me with you, had he wanted me to join the church.”

  Faye’s legs gave way. She had to be imagining this. She was still in Calder’s solar and she must have fallen asleep.

  Gregory’s chest pressed against her, his strength was all that held her standing. “You are mine and I am yours. Even if you never take me, Faye, I am yours.”

  Her dream, her dearest wish, her deepest longing. Hers.

  And Faye wept.

  * * * *

  Dear God, she smote him. Smite and smitten. He had brought her to this and each tear she shed burned through his tunic into his heart, every sob cut like a dagger. He vowed to take it away. Never again would this courageous, loving woman weep as if her heart might never mend.

  The rightness of her in his arms rocked through him. Words could not come close to what rested in his center. Her cheek beneath his lips, wet with tears, a revelation. The smoothness of her skin, the taste of salt from her tears stirred him as nothing else.

  He pressed his mouth to hers, needing to show her all he knew to be true.

  Her lips opened beneath his. Benediction.

  A primal surge coursed through him. His. For now, for always. His shaft swelled, hard and thick, his ballocks tight and ready. Physical love had always been something only for procreation. How limited his view had been, mired in his ignorance and stubbornness. It was an elemental connection one soul craved with another.

  He dipped into her mouth, to taste her essence and draw it into himself. His flesh hardened to the point of discomfort. Spreading his hands over her back, he learned the feel of her. So soft and warm, it hit him like a blow to his knees. He needed her. Hungered for her.

  Her breasts pressed full and ripe against his chest. Gregory cupped them in his hands. Firm and round with her nipples jutting out, demanding his touch.

  The man in him ripped free of control. Lust he could master, but this held him in its thrall. He marveled at the differences between them. The gentle curve of her hip into the fullness of her ass. How tiny her waist beneath his hands and how lush the rise of her bosom against his chest. She touched him, the power her hands wielded at odds with their size. She could bring him to his knees with the merest brush against his muscle.

  She dug her nails into his skin and he gloried in the proof she matched his desire. She kissed him with little pants and moans that reverberated through him, fueling the fire and driving it into a blaze.

  Beneath his tunic, she touched his bare skin. Dear God, he would come apart if she did not stop. He would perish if she did. He wrenched his mouth from hers.

  Slowly, Garrett had said. Love her slowly and carefully, see to her pleasure before your own. How did a man accomplish such an impossible feat when his flesh demanded nothing more than to lose itself in her sweetness?

  He pushed her hair from her beautiful face, his hands too large and clumsy. Drinking in the sight of her flushed, silken skin, the fullness of her mouth, wet and swollen from his kisses. Her desire unmanned him. Her need matched his.

  Slowly. It would kill him for certain. His hands trembled and ripped the ties on her bliaut as he loosened them. Clumsy hands.

  She did not seem to mind. With fistfuls of fabric, she pulled his tunic over his head. As if he were a thing of marvel, she stared at his bare chest. Spread her hands over him, her face alight with delight.

  He had to see her. Fabric tore as he pulled her bliaut over her head and then did the same with her chainse.

  Nothing in all creation could be as perfect and as beautiful as Faye standing naked before him. His shaft throbbed insistently for him to bury himself in her.

  Her breasts stood firm and proud from the gentle rounding of her belly. Between her legs, a pale patch of hair beckoned him atop the long, graceful sweep of her thighs. His hands stood out dark and rough against the pale silk of her skin, Her nipples, pale pink, between his dark, coarse fingers. They swelled and hardened to his touch and he stayed a moment and explored.

  Pressing into his touch, she moaned. Inside his braies, she closed her hand around him. Sensation shot through him and he nearly spilled in her hand, again. Not this time. Slowly. God, give him the strength to give her the pleasure she gave him.

  Over the curve of her belly and into the fascinating patch of hair he slid his hand.

  She cried out, exposing the long column of her neck. Beneath his lips, her throat vibrated as he savored her skin.

  She parted her thighs. His hand delved inside, as if it had its own mind. Wet, hot and silky, his fingers slid over her. He had to get inside. Every part of him strained to sink into her core.

  He nearly cried out in protest as sh
e stepped away from him. Like a slave, he followed her and her soft smile of challenge to the cot at the side of the tent. She laid down on her back and opened her thighs in silent invitation.

  Bedamned. Glistening and pink, the naked core of her drove him to the precipice of control. His ballocks tightened at the base of his shaft, throbbing and ready to spill. Laying over her as one bewitched, he feared crushing her.

  Her slim thighs bracketed his hips, bringing the tip of his shaft into contact with her wet heat. Instinct drove and he thrust. Sweet God, she wrapped around him in a moist, hot fist.

  He couldn’t hold it. He drove into her, deeper until he couldn’t tell them apart. She gripped his shaft, hot, silken and wet. Thinking ceased, it was only his flesh joined to hers as he thrust again. She whimpered beneath him, her hands on his ass pushing him deeper.

  His completion curled up from his toes, fastened like a fist around his belly and into his stones. With a roar, he pushed as deep as he could and emptied into her. His. It surged through him until he had nothing more and collapsed boneless atop her.

  * * * *

  Faye delighted in his weight. Intimacy with Gregory had been so different from her experience with Calder. No fear or pain or discomfort. She should be giddy with delight. Yet, something was missing.

  Other women spoke of this. Good Lord, her mother had even told her to expect pleasure from coupling. She had always supposed there to be something wrong with her that she dreaded intimacy with a man. Through the kissing and the touching, she had experienced everything those women spoke of. The heat, the dizzying delight, the pulse throbbing at her core—all of it.

  His flesh remained joined to where she still throbbed, wanting. The excitement had been intoxicating and heady. As if an exotic dish had been placed before her, for her to smell and see and delight in and then ripped away before she could taste. Blast. It had begun so well. She shifted beneath him, restless and incomplete.

  Pushing onto his elbows, he gazed down at her. His face gentle and flushed with completion.