She moaned, gripping his head and panting as he alternately sucked at the hard nub of her femininity and laved it tenderly. Hovering on the brink of forever, Raven wondered if she could pleasure Drake as he was pleasuring her, and if he would allow it. Deciding there was no time like the present to find out, she pushed him down on his back and straddled him. He seemed startled but did not protest.
“ ’Tis my turn,” she said in a throaty whisper.
She took her time exploring his body, kissing and nipping and sucking all the places she hoped would drive him wild. Then she gripped his manhood, stared into his eyes, and brought him to her lips. She opened her mouth.
A guttural cry was wrenched from Drake as he flexed his hips and sent his hard, thick length against the back of her throat.
She knew not how it happened, but suddenly she was stretched beneath him and he was embedded deep inside her. Her legs clamped around his waist as he drove into her, again and again. She bucked against him, no longer cold but burning hot. Her body was scalded by his; her senses swamped by love for the Black Knight. Then her thoughts were blown away as strong contractions racked her body. She heard Drake shout her name as he joined her in mid-flight, soaring with her to that special place where lovers dwell.
Castle Chirk
“She is gone!” Lark screamed at the top of her lungs as she left the solar and flew down the steps.
Everyone in the hall stared at her as if she had just lost her mind.
“Who is gone, woman?” Waldo roared, rising from his bench as Lark ran through the hall, wild-eyed with fright. “Can a man not break his fast in peace?”
“She is gone! You know. Lady Raven.”
Waldo grasped Lark’s shoulders and shook her none too gently. “Calm down. You must be mistaken. There is no way Raven could escape from her chamber. Go upstairs and look again.”
“She is gone, I tell you!” Lark insisted, nervously twisting a corner of her tunic. “I have searched everywhere. The chamber is empty.”
Waldo shoved Lark aside and took the steps two at a time. The guard still stood outside the door, looking perplexed and anxious. Waldo flung open the door and charged into the chamber. At the first sight it appeared unoccupied, but of course he knew it could not be. Dropping to his knees, he looked under the bed; she was not there. He checked the chest sitting against the wall, scattering clothing about with blatant disregard for the fragile silks and satins. He searched behind the bed hangings and drapery, his anger palpable.
“Raven could not have disappeared into thin air,” he argued. His face darkened with rage, and Lark cautiously backed away from him.
“Summon the guard,” Waldo commanded.
Lark turned and fled. The guard who had been standing outside the door entered the room, quaking in his boots. Waldo’s vile temper was to be feared, and most of his men knew better than to cross him.
Waldo glared at the man, his expression hard, unrelenting. “Blake of York, what do you know of this?”
“I remained at my post the entire night, my lord,” Blake insisted. “If Lady Raven is not in her chambers, then she left by some other exit. She could not have gone through this door.”
“Aye, she flew out the window,” Waldo barked sarcastically. “You are one of my most trustworthy men. How could this happen?”
“I did not fail you,” Blake said. “Lady Raven did not leave by this door.”
Waldo spit out a curse. He did not believe Blake. Raven could not have gone out the window, for the drop would have killed her. A vicious sneer curved his lips as a plausible explanation occurred to him. “Admit it, Blake. My wanton wife seduced you into letting her go. I hope you enjoyed her, for you shall die for your betrayal.”
“My lord! ’Tis not so. I betrayed you not.”
Suddenly two men-at-arms burst into the chamber, their faces etched with fear. Waldo’s scowl deepened. He knew immediately he would not like the tidings the men carried.
“Lord Waldo,” one of the men blurted out. “The Black Knight has escaped!”
“Nay!” Waldo roared. “It cannot be!”
Waldo rushed from the solar and raced down two flights of stairs, his men-at-arms close on his heels. He slid to a halt before the open door of the dungeon.
“ ’Tis dark. What happened to the torchlight?” Waldo asked, staring pointedly at the empty sconce.
“ ’Twas missing when we arrived to administer the beating you ordered,” the guard revealed. “He must have taken it with him, for we did not find it in the dungeon.”
“How thoroughly did you search?” Waldo asked.
“There are no hiding places in the dungeon, my lord,” the man answered.
Unwilling to believe two people could disappear simultaneously from separate locked chambers, Waldo started down the stairs to search the dungeon himself. “Hand me a torchlight.”
Moments later someone placed a torch in his hand and he descended the stairs, rage pounding through his body until he feared he would explode with it. He kicked at the foul straw that had been Drake’s bed and inspected every corner of the dungeon twice.
“The guards on duty yestereve are to be confined to the barracks,” Waldo barked. “I will get to the bottom of this.” He pounded up the stairs, ordering out the entire garrison to search for the missing prisoners.
Duff, who had gone out with the huntsmen early that morning, returned to utter chaos. “What has happened?” he asked when Waldo entered the hall.
“They are gone,” Waldo said in a hiss. “Fear not; I will find them.”
“Who?”
“Your whore of a sister and my bastard brother.”
Duff stiffened. “You go too far, Waldo. Remember, Raven is my sister. How did they escape?”
“Raven flew out the window and Drake walked through walls,” Waldo said sarcastically. “Personally, I believe there is a more mundane answer. The guards on duty yestereve are confined to the barracks until I can launch an investigation. As I speak, the keep and outbuildings are being thoroughly searched. No stone will be left unturned.”
“The gates were closed yestereve and the drawbridge up,” Duff said. “They could not have left the castle proper. What do you plan to do to them when you find them?”
Waldo’s expression hardened. “My brother will die. ’Tis the fate I intended for him all along. As for Raven, I will have an heir from her. After that . . .” He shrugged.
“I will not allow you to hurt Raven,” Duff warned. “Mayhap I was wrong to force her to marry you. I should have heeded her pleas and found someone more to her liking.”
“ ’Tis too late,” Waldo pointed out. “Raven is my wife. I will take her to Eyre and do with her as I please.”
“Like you did with Daria?” Duff charged. “I know not what happened to Daria, but should you harm Raven, I swear I will ask the king to launch an inquiry into Daria’s death.”
“You make me laugh, Duff,” Waldo said with a snort. “You are a spineless worm and we both know it. Order your men out to search the inner and outer baileys.”
Duff sent Waldo an insolent stare and walked away, muttering beneath his breath. “Mayhap the worm will turn, Waldo of Eyre.”
Waldo was not satisfied until every inch of the keep, the outbuildings, and both the inner and outer baileys were thoroughly searched. Three days later Waldo ordered his men into the forest, the village, and neighboring towns. The escape of his prisoners was nothing short of miraculous, but Waldo did not believe in miracles. Someone had helped them, but not even torture had loosened the guards’ tongues. The men on duty that night continued to proclaim their innocence.
Waldo was livid. Careful questioning of the castle servants and villagers had produced nothing but blank stares. He should have known no help would be forthcoming there. Raven had been the lady of the castle far too long for them to betray her.
Fifteen
A knight always obeys his king.
The sky was gray and heavy with clouds the day Dra
ke and Raven reached Windhurst. The ocean churning below the cliffs appeared black and ominous. The wind howled, buffeting them ruthlessly as they approached the barbican. Drake’s heart swelled with pride when he saw that the outer walls had been fully restored during his absence; they would be a solid buffer against enemy attack. A guard stepped from the barbican as if to challenge the intruders. Then he recognized Drake and gave a welcoming cry.
Drake rode through the gate into the outer bailey. Several men were engaged in mock combat on the training field and did not see them as they passed by.
“I cannot believe your workers repaired the walls so quickly,” Raven remarked when she noted the newly reconstructed curtain wall. They reached the portcullis and it opened to admit them.
“They have more than earned the bonus I promised,” Drake said, delighted with the miracle his workers had wrought during his absence.
They reached the keep and drew rein. Evan rushed forward to greet them. “Lord Drake! Lady Raven. Thank God you are both safe. Had we not heard something soon, Sir Richard was going to take your army to Chirk and demand your release.”
Drake dismounted and lifted Raven from her dappled palfrey. Knights and warriors, having been alerted to Drake’s arrival, hurried forward to greet him. Balder must have heard the commotion, for he rushed from the keep, saw Drake, and stumbled down the stairs, a broad smile wreathing his face.
“My lord, my lady, welcome home. I called the servants back when Sir Richard arrived. Everything is in readiness for you. A hot meal will be forthcoming directly.”
Drake was touched by the welcome he received from his people, and his heart swelled with pride. Such loyalty was rare, and he knew not if he deserved it. Placing a protective arm around Raven’s shoulders, he led her out of the pounding rain and up the stairs to the keep.
The hall was warm and inviting, redolent with delicious cooking aromas. A fire burned in the hearth, spreading warmth throughout the hall. Drake guided Raven to a bench and seated her before the fire. Someone handed him a cup of ale and he pressed it into Raven’s hand.
“Drink,” he said. “It will warm you.”
Warriors and knights alike followed them inside, helping themselves to pitchers of ale placed on the tables for their consumption. They all crowded around Drake, waiting for him to regale them with his adventure.
“Is Sir John not with you?” Sir Richard asked. “He remained near Chirk to await word of your fate. He intended to camp in the forest with Zeus until you either showed up or . . .” His words trailed off. He cleared his throat. “I see you found Zeus, but what of Sir John?”
“Fear not. Raven and I stumbled upon Sir John’s campsite shortly after we escaped from Chirk. I sent him on an errand.”
“Tell us how you escaped from Chirk,” a knight called out. “Spare us no details, my lord,” he added. It was obvious the knight was not alone in wondering how and where their lord had encountered Lady Raven.
“I am weary,” Drake hedged. “I will relate the details after my lady and I have supped. I know you are all anxious to hear what happened after my brother dragged me off to Chirk.”
“The adventure will doubtless add luster to the Black Knight’s fame,” Richard pointed out. “Soon every jongleur in the kingdom will sing of the Black Knight’s newest exploits.”
Drake heaved a sigh. He hoped the tale would not reach the king, for he knew not how Edward would react when he learned his champion had taken another knight’s wife as his leman. He shoved those thoughts aside; he would worry about the king if and when the problem arose. He offered his hand to Raven.
“You should rest. I set a grueling pace and forced you to follow.” He searched her face, suddenly aware of her paleness and the dark smudges marring the delicate skin beneath her eyes.
Raven placed her hand in his and followed him up the winding staircase to the solar. He ushered her inside and closed the door behind them.
“I mean it, Raven,” he said sternly. “You are sorely in need of rest. I will have a tub carried up so you can bathe. Take your time. Nap, if you can. Mayhap you would like your meal sent up.”
“Aye, that would be nice. I feel as if I could sleep for a sen-night.”
He took her into his arms and gazed intently into her face; he liked not what he saw. “Are you ill? I should have been more careful of you. I am accustomed to riding hard, but I should have taken a woman’s weaker constitution into consideration. Forgive me.”
“There is naught to forgive. If not for you I would belong to Waldo now, in every way,” she added meaningfully.
He grimaced and gave her a quick kiss. Then he released her and set about building a fire in the hearth. “I will return after I bathe, eat, and regale my men with the tale of our escape.” He kissed her again and left the chamber.
Raven indeed felt drained. The swift journey to Windhurst had taken its toll. She had forced herself to struggle through the inevitable morning sickness so that Drake would not recognize her symptoms. No matter how desperately she wanted to tell him about the baby, she had maintained her silence. Telling Drake would serve no purpose and would only complicate the situation and make things more difficult.
Raven had already decided she must leave Windhurst before Waldo arrived. Drake had suffered enough on her account. If she was not here when Waldo arrived, and he would arrive, there would be no need for an armed confrontation.
Raven had thought about this a long time and decided to flee to the safety she knew her aunt would provide. Edinburgh was a long way to travel alone, but she had no other choice. She would live quietly in her aunt’s home and raise her child. Drake need never know he had become a father, for in all likelihood she would never see him again.
That terrible thought brought tears to her eyes. Surely living without the man she loved would be a fitting penance for the grave sin she had committed. But had she really committed a sin? Her conscience told her she had done no wrong. Being intimate with the man she loved could not be a sin when it brought such happiness. Mayhap Drake did not share her love, but her heart told her he cared for her.
Surely no man would risk so much for a woman unless he was emotionally involved. A niggling voice inside her warned that the only thing Drake felt was guilt. He had, after all, stolen her virginity on her wedding night in a most unchivalrous manner. Then there was lust, which they both felt in abundance. But Raven knew her lust was motivated by love. Unfortunately she could not say the same for Drake.
Raven’s bath arrived then and her thoughts turned to mundane matters, such as soaking away all the dirt and dust that had accummulated during their journey to Windhurst. A shy young maid stayed to help her.
“I am Lora, my lady. Lord Drake asked me to attend you.”
“What happened to Gilda?” Raven asked.
“Gilda married the blacksmith’s son and already carries his child.”
Raven searched Lora’s plain features and saw no guile, no cunning, unlike the conniving Gilda. “I welcome your assistance, Lora,” she said with a smile.
Raven finished her bath and stepped into the large linen drying cloth Lora held out for her. She stifled a yawn. The bath had made her drowsy.
“Would you like to rest, my lady?” Lora asked. She moved to the bed and pulled back the covers.
“A nap sounds wonderful,” Raven said, unable to resist the lure of the turned-down bed.
She dropped the sodden drying cloth and climbed naked into bed. Lora pulled the covers up to her neck and quietly left the chamber. Raven was asleep before Lora closed the door behind her.
She had no idea how long she slept, but when she awakened she felt a warm body curled around her. She must have been so exhausted that she had not awakened when Drake crawled into bed. The fire in the hearth had been rekindled, she noted, for the chamber was warmed by a soft golden glow. She perched on one elbow and looked at him, startled to see him watching her with glittering eyes.
“I wondered when you were going to awaken. I
cannot sleep when I am hard as a rock.” He pushed his loins against her, demonstrating the strength of his need. “You were sleeping so soundly I did not want to disturb you. Are you hungry?”
“Aye, a little.”
Drake shoved back the covers and climbed naked from bed. “I brought a tray up for you. ’Tis beside the hearth, keeping warm. You must have been completely worn out. I am sorry I drove you so hard.”
“ ’Tis no fault of yours. We both knew the danger in dawdling. Set the tray on the table,” she instructed, attempting to rise.
“Nay. Stay where you are. I will fetch the tray.”
Raven pulled herself up and propped a pillow behind her back, watching him. His naked warrior’s body fascinated her. Though he was leaner than when she first saw him, the corded muscles rippling beneath the skin of his massive shoulders and chest were long, powerfully developed, and granite hard. His buttocks were high and taut, and his muscular legs were covered with fine dark hairs.
Raven’s eyes widened when he turned and carried the tray to her. His staff was hard and turgid, rising upward from a nest of black. She quickly averted her gaze as he placed the tray on her lap and perched on the bed beside her. Her mouth watered when he whisked the cloth away, revealing a feast fit for a king. There were meat pies bursting with succulent pieces of venison, slices of suckling pig, bread, an assortment of late vegetables, fruits, and cheeses. Though Raven could not begin to consume everything on the tray, she made quite a dent in it.
Replete, she shoved the tray aside. “How many people did you expect to feed?”
“You have not eaten enough to keep a bird alive these past days,” Drake pointed out as he removed the tray. “A steady diet of good, nourishing food is what you need. It has not escaped my notice that you are looking peaked of late. I know I asked you before, but I must ask again. Are you ill?”
Raven refused to meet Drake’s eyes. Lying did not come easily to her. “Nay, I am not ill. Give me a few days to rest and recuperate from the arduous journey and you will see a difference.”
He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Are you certain? There is naught you wish to tell me?”
Connie Mason Page 21
