Connie Mason
Page 30
“Sweeting,” Drake began, “you need not distress yourself with details, but I want to know everything that Waldo did and said to you. But first you must take some broth. You have not eaten in three days.”
He fetched the broth and painstakingly spooned the rich liquid into her mouth. When she signaled that she had eaten her fill, he set the bowl aside and kissed her forehead. “Do you wish to sleep?”
“Nay. I want to tell you . . . everything. ’Tis important you know.”
“Only if you feel up to it.”
“Waldo is not your half brother.”
Stunned, Drake stared at her. “What makes you say that?”
“He told me himself. He believed I would die in the cave, and spoke freely of the evil things he had done.”
She told him everything Waldo had related to her. When she revealed that Waldo had killed Daria, Basil, and Aric, a sickness came over Drake. He had always known Waldo was possessed of demons, but he had had no idea how truly evil he was.
“The man was insane,” Drake said, stunned by the tale of evil intrigues Raven had just spun. “It all makes sense now. During our youth, Waldo hated me because he knew I was Basil’s rightful heir, but when he found out he was not Basil’s son, his fury drove him to commit murder in order to keep his embarrassing secret from becoming public knowledge. Thank God the world is rid of him.”
“Did you kill him?”
“Nay, though I wish it had been me. Thieves got to him first. He was slain in the forest near Exeter. We brought him back to Windhurst for burial. Balder saw to it. I did not wish to know where he was buried.”
A knock on the door announced the midwife, and Drake ushered her inside the chamber. She was young and robust and seemed to know exactly what she was about. She ordered Drake from the chamber so she could examine Raven and closed the door in his face.
Drake was joined by Duff, who questioned him closely about Raven’s condition. Only when Duff was assured that Raven would recover did he return to the hall, leaving Drake to pace and worry until the midwife reappeared. “Are my wife and child well?” he asked gruffly.
“Lady Raven still carries the babe. ’Tis a good sign. Your wife is a determined woman. Keep her abed for a fortnight. The rest is in God’s hands. Send for me if she feels pain.”
Cheered by her words, Drake nodded, anxious to return to Raven. “See my steward. He will pay you for your services.”
Drake returned to the bedchamber and perched on the edge of the bed. A sleepy-eyed Raven smiled up at him. “Our child fares well,” she said. “Did the midwife tell you?”
“Aye. She said you are a strong woman. But I never doubted that.”
Raven’s lids fluttered. Drake rose, aware that she needed sleep more than she needed to talk right now.
“Nay, do not leave me,” Raven whispered, reaching for him. “Lie down beside me. I need to know you are here. Talk to me until I go to sleep.”
Drake eagerly complied. The bed ropes creaked as he gathered her in his arms. Holding Raven was something he intended to do a lot of in the future. Then he began to speak in low, soothing tones.
“You are the bravest woman I know. We might never have found you in time if you had not left the cave and sawed through your bonds. ’Tis a miracle you were not hurt badly when you fell. Most women would have accepted their fate and awaited death. But not you, my courageous wife. You defied fate. I care not what Waldo did to you. You are back with me where you belong; naught else matters.”
“Waldo touched me not except to bind my limbs,” Raven murmured, half-asleep.
Though his feelings for Raven would not have changed if Waldo had raped her, he knew instinctively that it would have mattered to Raven, and that he would have felt her pain as keenly as she.
“I love you, wife,” he whispered against her ear.
“I love you, husband,” she murmured drowsily.
A fortnight later Raven negotiated the stairs without Drake’s help and entered the hall. She halted abruptly, embarrassed when the folk assembled there rose to their feet and saluted her with their cups. She blushed as she proceeded to the high table, where her husband awaited her.
“You look radiant,” he said as he seated her next to him. “Are you sure you are well enough to join us tonight?”
Her hands spanned her stomach. “I am well; my babe rides comfortably within me, and I am bored lying abed all day.”
His eyes darkened with desire, and he touched her cheek. “What say you we retire early tonight? I have missed you.”
Raven met his gaze; her breasts tautened and her limbs grew languid. “Just as I have missed you, husband.”
Drake grinned. “Who would have known that coltish, mischievous child who begged me for a kiss would become my wife?”
“Mayhap Granny Nola knew,” Raven teased as she chewed a succulent piece of roasted pork he had placed on her trencher. “I hope your grandmother arrives soon. Are you certain Sir John can convince her to come live with us?”
“Sir John is a persuasive fellow. I am certain he will charm her into accompanying him to Windhurst.”
“Think you we can find wives for Sir John and Sir Richard? ’Tis long past time they married.”
“Once we settle in at Eyre you can play matchmaker to your heart’s content.”
“I will miss Windhurst, but I am not sorry to leave.” She shuddered. “There are too many bad memories here. Besides, Eyre lands march along with Chirk’s and the castles are within a day’s ride. I want to become friends with Willa and visit Chirk from time to time.”
The meal finally ended. Drake bade everyone good night. Then to Raven’s surprise and delight, he scooped her into his arms and carried her up the stairs. The moment the chamber door closed behind them, Drake placed her on the bed and followed her down. Their clothing flew in every direction, driven by love, by need, by eagerness to renew their vows of everlasting love.
With tender care the Black Knight filled her, pressed deeply, rocked against her, completed her . . . claiming her for all eternity, body, soul, and senses.
Epilogue
A knight believes that love conquers all.
Eyre Castle, three years later
Seated in a comfortable chair, Granny Nola dozed before the hearth, tuckered out after helping bring Raven’s twins into the world. The midwife had just finished cleaning Raven when Drake stormed into the bedchamber. Three-year-old Dillon trailed behind him. Drake stopped just short of the bed, looking askance at the midwife.
“You may see your wife now, my lord. Try not to tire her, for she has put in a full day’s work. Birthing twins is no easy task.”
“I will not tire her,” Drake promised.
The midwife quietly left the room and closed the door behind her. Drake knelt beside the bed, enveloping Raven’s small hand in his. He bent to kiss her forehead. Raven opened her eyes and smiled up at him.
“The babes are small,” she said.
“Can I see them, Mama?” Dillon asked excitedly. “Do I have brothers or sisters?”
“One of each,” Raven said, smiling fondly at her robust son. He was a miniature of Drake, possessing the same admirable qualities that had made her fall in love with his father. “They are resting in the cradle, quite eager to meet their big brother.”
“You outdid yourself this time, my love,” Drake said. “Two babes, I cannot believe it. Thank you.”
“I have the daughter I wanted, and you have another son to follow in your footsteps. Will you name them?”
“Shall we call the girl Leta, for my mother?”
“Aye, and mayhap the boy Nyle, for my father.”
“I am anxious to make their acquaintance, but first I wanted to make sure their mother was well.”
Drake brushed a kiss across her lips. Raven was asleep before he lifted his head. He stared at her a moment, his heart overflowing with love. Then he strode over to the cradle to inspect his children. Leta, her tiny arms stretched above her head, slep
t contentedly, while Nyle sucked vigorously upon his fist. Awed by his twin babes, Drake gazed at the tiny scraps of humanity that were part of both him and Raven and prayed for their survival. They were so very small.
“They are too little for me to play with,” Dillon complained, clearly disappointed with his new siblings.
“They will grow, God willing,” Drake said, placing a hand on his son’s dark head.
“May I go play at swords with Trent in the tilt field?” Dillon asked, already bored with the babes. “I hope Trent stays for a long time. I like playing with him.”
Trent was Duff and Lady Willa’s sturdy son, several months younger than Dillon. They had come to Eyre to await the birth. Drake hoped the cousins would become close friends, recalling how lonely his own childhood had been.
“Run along,” Drake said absently as Dillon skipped away.
He was still gazing rapturously at the newest additions to his family when Granny Nola awakened and joined him.
“They are strong,” Granny said, as if reading his mind. “They will survive.”
Drake gave her a startled glance. “You know this? Children so often die without reason.”
Granny sent him a reassuring smile. “Not these children. I know this. Just as I knew you should ride south to catch Waldo.” She patted Drake lovingly on the shoulder and quietly left the chamber.
More than a little in awe of Granny’s mysterious power, Drake turned back to the cradle. He observed his sleeping babes a few minutes longer before returning to Raven’s bedside. She was sound asleep. He bent and kissed her lips.
“Thank you, my love, for my children. We have suffered adverse times to get where we are today, but we have survived and prospered. I promise that you and our children will always come first in my heart.”