Connie Mason

by The Black Knight

  “Do you really think so?” Willa asked hopefully. “Lord Duff does seem to like me. And he strikes me as a man who would not be overly demanding.”

  “Think on it, Lady Willa,” Raven encouraged. “Then make your decision wisely.”

  “You want the Black Knight,” Willa said.

  “Aye, I want him, my lady.” She splayed her hands over her stomach. “And so does our child.”

  She smiled and whirled away, leaving a speechless Willa in her wake. She had no idea Waldo had been lurking in the shadows, not close enough to hear their words but near enough to see that Raven had said something to shock Lady Willa.

  “What did my wife tell you?” Waldo asked as he sidled up to Willa.

  Willa started violently. “Oh, you frightened me.”

  “What did my wife tell you that was so shocking?” Waldo persisted.

  “I do not think your wife likes you overmuch.” Willa sniffed.

  Waldo gave a snort of laughter. “Tell me something I do not know. Nevertheless, Raven is mine. If she were out of your life, mayhap Drake would pay you more heed.”

  “Nay, he would not. Drake is right. We would not suit. Besides, Lord Duff looks upon me with favor. Mayhap I can persuade the king to give me to Duff instead of to Drake.”

  So much for enlisting Lady Willa’s help, Waldo thought as he strode away. There had to be some way to get Raven alone; all he had to do was find it. He was convinced that the only way to hurt Drake was through Raven. Somehow, before he left Windhurst, he would have his revenge upon Drake and Raven.

  The servants paid Waldo scant heed as he left the hall. He made directly for the stables. No one was about this time of day, so he saddled his own horse. Chickens and geese scattered as he rode through the inner bailey. Drake caught up with him at the portcullis.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I feel in need of exercise. Am I a prisoner at Windhurst? Have I not the right to come and go as I please?”

  “I will instruct the gatekeeper to allow you to pass freely,” Drake replied. “ ’Tis not my intention to keep you at Windhurst any longer than necessary.”

  Sawing on Zeus’s reins, Drake rode off. Waldo smiled slyly and continued through the raised portcullis. He wandered aimlessly along the cliffs before he realized the possibilities they offered. He found a place where his horse could easily negotiate the steep path and reined the destrier down the cliff to the rock-strewn beach below. He saw the cave by accident as he absently scanned the cliffs. The opening was above high-tide level and he dismounted to explore it. To reach it, he had to climb over rocks embedded in the cliff’s face. To his surprise he found an unlit torchlight lying on the ground outside the cave, and he realized he was not the first person to enter the cave.

  He struck a light to the dry branches and it caught immediately. Guided by the light, he wandered deeper into the cavern and saw signs of recent activity. Smiling with satisfaction, he doused the torch and left it where he had found it. Then he climbed down to the beach, where his horse awaited him. When he returned to the castle, his mind whirled with nefarious plans involving Drake and Raven.

  The king was in a jovial mood during the meal and entertainment Drake had arranged that night. The portcullis had been left open so that the men camped outside the walls could attend the feast and come and go at will. The hall was crowded. Edward said nothing of his decision concerning Raven’s fate, nor did he mention his private conversation with Lady Willa earlier that day, but he did have a twinkle in his eye that Raven was hard put to identify. She fidgeted nervously throughout the oppressively long meal.

  Drake’s solid presence beside her failed to cheer her as it usually did. For some reason she could not dispel a deep sense of foreboding.

  After the jongleur had spun his last tale, the king rose and motioned for silence. “I propose a toast,” he said, raising his cup to Drake. “To Lord Drake, Earl of Windhurst and Eyre.” A loud cry of “Hear, hear!” echoed throughout the hall. The king drank deeply, then turned to Raven. “And to the new lady of Windhurst and Eyre!”

  At the back of the hall, Waldo cast down his cup and spit out an oath. A stunned silence ensued as all eyes turned to Waldo.

  “Come forward, Sir Waldo,” Edward commanded.

  Waldo charged forward, his chin jutting out pugnaciously. He stopped before the high table, glaring at the king, at Drake, and especially at Raven.

  “You cannot do this, sire,” Waldo railed. “My marriage to Lady Raven is legal and binding.”

  “ ’Twas not consummated,” Edward returned. “My decision is made. Since my presence is no longer needed, I intend to leave tomorrow. My daughter is expecting a child and I promised to return to London in time for the birth. I had not intended to remain at Windhurst so long.”

  “Are the priests in agreement?” Waldo challenged. “Are they willing to set aside a legal marriage?”

  “They agree with me. The marriage was not consummated; no legal marriage exists. ’Tis within my power as king of the realm to annul the marriage, and I have done so.”

  “But the pope—”

  “It matters not what the pope decreed; the marriage still smacks of incest to me. Besides, you did not ask my permission to marry.”

  “What about Lady Willa? Was she not intended for Drake?”

  “Aye, but neither party was willing. It appears that Lady Willa prefers another.” He blessed Lady Willa with a fond smile. “Lord Duff has asked permission to wed her.”

  “Lord Duff!” Waldo sputtered. “That spineless toady!”

  Edward dismissed Waldo with an angry chop of his hand. “Be gone; you offend me! The decision was mine to make and I made it.”

  His face mottled with rage, Waldo gave the king an insolent bow and strode away.

  “The feast tonight is a true celebration,” Edward announced grandly. “Will Father Ambrose and Father Bernard please come forward?” The two priests rose from a bench close to the high table and approached the dais.

  “Before I leave Windhurst, it would please me to see Lord Drake wed to Lady Raven and Lord Duff wed to Lady Willa.”

  Duff, looking properly smitten, and Willa, shyly accepting the king’s edict, were escorted by the king’s own squires to the center of the hall. The ceremony uniting Duff and Lady Willa was short but moving. Afterward the entire assembly offered rousing cheers to the newlyweds. Raven was the first to congratulate her brother and his new wife, thrilled that Duff had finally escaped Waldo’s evil influence and become his own man. Duff had done many things she found hard to forgive, but in time she hoped the family would be reunited.

  Then it was Drake and Raven’s turn. Though this was the happiest day of her life, Raven could not shake her persistent feeling of dread. She blamed it on her pregnancy, for she had heard that expectant mothers were often fanciful and weepy. Yet the fact remained that while Waldo lived, she would never know peace.

  “What is it, sweeting?” Drake asked as they waited for the ceremony to begin. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  “Nay!” Raven denied, aghast that Drake would even think such a thing. “Being your wife is all I have ever wanted.”

  Moments later Raven’s wish became reality. She was Drake’s wife. Her child would bear his name and know a father’s love. She savored Drake’s kiss and clung to him, tears blurring her eyes as they received a standing ovation from all those present. Then, disregarding ceremony, Drake swept her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to their chamber. Once inside, he slammed the door shut with his foot and sat her down on the edge of the bed.

  Then he knelt at her feet, peeled back her skirts, and removed her shoes and stockings. “Tonight is ours to savor,” he said, kissing his way up her bare leg to her inner thigh. “I am going to love you so thoroughly, no one will ever question the legality of our marriage.”

  “Our marriage was consummated long before the priest spoke the words over us,” Raven quipped.

  His mouth paused on a
tender spot above her knee. “I will always regret the way I took you that first time.”

  “Do not. I regret naught.”

  That dark feeling came over her again and she shivered. Drake sat back on his haunches and stared at her. “Something is wrong. Tell me.”

  Raven bit her bottom lip, aware that her explanation had no basis in fact. She shook her head. “I cannot. ’Tis naught but a feeling.”

  “ ’Tis Waldo,” Drake said harshly.

  “Aye,” she admitted. “He frightens me. He will always be there, waiting to hurt you.”

  “I can handle Waldo. He has no power. Though not penniless, he no longer claims Eyre’s wealth or manpower.”

  “What will he do?”

  “Return to his small demesne near York. I suspect he’ll hide there to lick his wounds. Forget him, my love. I have. I will never let him hurt you again.” He kissed her nose. “Smile. ’Tis our wedding night. I want to undress you slowly, to kiss you until you lose your fears, and to make love to you until you beg me to stop.”

  The breath caught in Raven’s throat. “I want that, too. I want to feast my eyes upon your warrior’s body, to return your kisses until we are both breathless, and to feel your hardness moving inside me. Oh, Drake, thank God for the king. Without him we would not be husband and wife.”

  “We will pray for his long life,” Drake allowed. “But not tonight. Stand up, my love. You are wearing far too much clothing for my liking.”

  He stripped her slowly, kissing and stroking each part of her body as he bared it. When she finally stood before him, gloriously naked, she was shaking so violently she could scarcely breathe. She admired his warrior’s body as he stripped himself as naked as she. They faced one another as God had made them, bare, without artifice or pretense.

  Suddenly shy, Raven tried to hide her growing girth with her hands, but Drake would not allow it. He smiled and pulled her hands away, then bent to kiss her stomach. “Nay, do not hide yourself from me. ’Tis my child growing inside you. You have never looked more beautiful to me than you do now.”

  He bore her down upon the bed, covering her with his body. She hooked her arms around his neck, bringing his face down to hers. They kissed fervently, their kisses increasing in length until both were gasping for breath. Their tongues tangled and dueled, as if they could not get enough of one another. His caresses were tender, patient, arousing her slowly, with great gentleness despite his raging need. He caught her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and licked the hardened nub. She shifted restlessly and moaned.

  After a long time he abandoned her nipples and slid his mouth over her flushed skin, lapping a trail of fire down her belly and lower, until his hot mouth claimed a spot so sweet the pleasure was nearly unbearable. She arched upward into his wet caress as his fingers opened her and his mouth sought even greater intimacy.

  On fire, trembling with need, Raven pulled on his hair to claim his attention. “Come inside me, please!”

  He smiled and moved over her, his face inches from hers, and with one quick, smooth thrust, he was deep inside her. She surged against him, taking him, all of him, wanting more. They strained together, seeking, hungry mouths joined, their passion ignited, driving them to even greater heights.

  Fulfillment, absorbing, all-consuming, burst upon them simultaneously. Rapture flowed, crested, flinging them over the edge of forever, then ebbed, floating them in a sea of sublime ecstasy. Blissfully satisfied and totally spent, they clung to one another, vowing without words their everlasting love.

  Drake eased beside her and placed a tender kiss upon her lips. She snuggled close and laid her head on his shoulder.

  “You belong to the Black Knight now,” Drake said, pulling her possessively against him. “Naught but death will part us.”

  Though she was happy and sated, Raven’s mind refused to relinquish the fear that had been plaguing her since the day Waldo had appeared at Windhurst. Drake had just told her that only death would part them. Were the words a harbinger of doom? Were they more prophetic than either of them realized?

  She knew Waldo, knew how he thought, and he was not going to give her up without a fight. Though the king had ruled in Drake’s favor, she feared they had not heard the last of Waldo.

  There was something, something she could not put her finger on, that warned her Waldo’s evil was driven by fear. Fear of what? What horrible thing in his past drove him? Was it Daria? He had denied killing her sister, but she did not believe him. It suddenly occurred to Raven that the darkness she felt around her was not her own. It was Waldo’s. His past held something so sordid and contemptible that evil emanated from him in waves. Was she the only one who perceived the corruptness of Waldo’s soul, the only one who worried about it?

  Then Drake reached for her again and she went willingly into his arms, losing herself in his lovemaking.

  Afterward, sleep came, but it was not an easy sleep, for a villain bent on mayhem lurked in the darkness.

  Nineteen

  A knight’s vow to protect his lady is not given lightly.

  The persistent clanging of a bell dragged Drake from a deep sleep. He shook himself awake and pulled on his hose. Since he had no knowledge of the nature of the catastrophe, he grasped his sword and headed for the door. It was then he noticed the orange light flickering against the windows and realized the calamity was worse than he’d thought.

  Fire.

  He ran to the door; Raven’s voice stopped him. “Is aught amiss, Drake?”

  His answer was forestalled by a frantic hammering on the door. “Drake, ’tis Sir John. There is fire below in the inner bailey. The smithy is already ablaze and the kitchen is threatened.”

  Drake’s heart thundered wildly. Fire! “Organize a bucket brigade,” he called through the door. “I will be down directly.”

  “Wait for me,” Raven cried, throwing back the covers.

  “Nay, do not bestir yourself, my love,” Drake said as he donned his leather hauberk. “Remain in the keep, where you will be safe.” When Raven objected, he said, “Promise me.”

  “Very well,” Raven reluctantly agreed. “Be careful.”

  Drake kissed her lightly on the mouth and made a hasty exit. Raven did not lie abed long. She rose and dressed in haste, wanting to be ready should she be needed below. She moved to the window. The bright red glow against the inky black sky was stunning . . . and frightening.

  She could not see the smithy from her window; it was situated around the corner of the keep, separated from the kitchen by a storeroom. All the buildings had thatched roofs, and Raven feared a spark would ignite the roof of the shed and quickly spread the blaze to the kitchen. Should the wind pick up, all the buildings in the inner bailey could go up in flames.

  Raven was so worried about the spreading fire that she did not hear the chamber door open, nor was she aware of a presence behind her. She was aware of nothing until she felt a hard hand clamp over her mouth and a brawny arm anchor her against a solid body.

  “Well, dear wife, I finally find you alone,” a voice whispered into her ear.

  Waldo! Sheer panic seized her. She kicked backward, but her soft slipper did nothing but earn her a vicious shake.

  “Try that again and I will kill you,” Waldo said in a growl.

  Suddenly her mouth was free and she opened it to scream. The scream died in her throat when she felt a knife pressed against her stomach, where her child grew.

  “What do you want?”

  “Is that not obvious?” Waldo said against her ear.

  He released his hold on her waist and tore the cords from the drapery. “Put your arms behind you.”

  Fearing for her unborn child, she did as he directed. He quickly bound her arms behind her and dragged her to the bed, roughly pushing her down. Fearing that he would take her sexually, she vowed, “I will scream if you touch me.”

  “Scream all you want,” he said with a snarl. “No one will hear you. Everyone is in the bailey battling the f
ires, and these walls are thick. Besides, I have other plans for you,” he said as he knelt and bound her ankles. “You are Drake’s weakness. Losing you will hurt him more than anything I could do to him, including a quick death. Killing is too easy, too painless. Nay, I have something else in mind. Something that will make you suffer as much as Drake when he cannot find you. Your death is likely to be slow, but all the better.”

  Despair settled over Raven. Waldo was right. She could scream at the top of her lungs and no one would hear her. She had to keep her wits about her until she learned what Waldo planned for her.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough. Where is your cloak?”

  He spied it hanging on a hook. He removed it, along with a silk scarf he found lying nearby. Raven had scant time to wonder what he was going to do with the scarf, for he grasped her chin and stuffed the scarf into her mouth.

  “Now I won’t have to listen to your carping,” he said, hauling her to her feet and settling the cloak around her shoulders.

  He ignored Raven’s muffled cries as he pulled the hood over her head and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. Raven could see little except his heels as he opened the door and peered into the corridor.

  “Deserted,” Waldo crowed as he descended the narrow stone staircase. His shoulder dug into her stomach, and she emitted a silent groan as she bounced against him. She tried to kick him but he held her legs securely.

  The hall was deserted. Dismay turned to panic when Raven realized that everyone, including the servants, was in the bailey fighting the fire. Waldo quickly traversed the hall and opened the door. When Raven felt a blast of cold air, true fear gripped her. Waldo was going to carry her away without anyone being the wiser. Raven raised her head and saw people rushing between the pump and the burning buildings, too intent upon the fire to notice them.

  When Waldo veered away from the burning buildings, Raven realized he was heading for the stables. Abruptly it occurred to her that the fire had not been an accident. Whoever had started it knew precisely what he was doing and exactly where to set the fire in order to conceal his movements.