Romance Through the Ages

by Amy Harmon

“Father Elliot, can you remain?” With dinner cleared away and everyone gathering in the great hall, Marissa played the part of the good hostess, talking to guests, instructing servants to set out games for the men, and readying a sewing area for the women. It was not as if Gillian stepped forward to do the task. “The men are to play games and would greatly enjoy thy company. Please stay.”

  “Gladly, my lady.” His fingers tapped his overlarge belly, and he smiled as he looked about the hall. “I thank you for the invitation.”

  Marissa found a seat among her ladies, enjoying the antics and yells of the men as they started playing games of chance and skill. “Come ladies, what plans have we tomorrow to prepare for the wedding? Think you we should… ”

  Marissa realized she was talking to herself. Vera and Yvonne watched Kellen watch Gillian flirt with Sir Royce. Kellen’s face started to flush with anger. Foolish girl.

  Marissa hated to admit it, because she enjoyed Sir Royce’s company so much, but she should not have insisted their neighbor gain entrance when he came calling this eve. Kellen had turned all Sir Royce’s men away, but let Sir Royce in to please Marissa. She wished now she’d not interfered.

  Gillian curled a piece of blonde hair around one finger as she smiled up at Sir Royce. “The thing is, I lost my bracelet and… ”

  Gillian was yammering away about the bracelet again?

  Kellen moved forward to join the pair. “As I told you, I have instructed the villagers to search, but none have found it as yet.”

  A sharp pang of jealousy bit Marissa and she tugged too tightly on the embroidery string, puckering the material. If her husband felt half so possessive of her as Kellen did of Gillian, she’d be a happy woman.

  When Kellen continued to glare at Royce, the man finally turned away to flirt with Vera and Yvonne. Moments later, when Kellen’s attention was distracted by Father Elliot, Royce turned his attention back to Gillian. ’Twas like watching a live game of chess, acted by very poor players.

  Gillian did not help matters by laughing and flirting with the man. Kellen’s attention was soon back upon her; and he was so obviously incensed, Marissa wanted to feel sorry for him. Instead, all she could do was wonder how Gillian did it? How did she make a man such as Kellen feel so possessive?

  Yes, the girl was pretty, but she did so many things wrong. She was not proficient at running a household, her sewing was barely passable, she spoke sharply, and could be demanding. She never left Kellen in any doubt about what her needs were, and yet he seemed willing to do anything to keep her happy.

  It no doubt helped that she was also kind, caring, and merry. But still, the girl seemed to instinctively know how to get what she wanted from the man in her life. And Kellen seemed so different around her, no morose or dour moods. It gave Marissa hope and made her wonder if perhaps she might change, as well.

  Mayhap she could smile and simper her way into her husband’s heart? Mayhap she could even make him forget his perfect first wife and fall in love with her instead?

  Marissa dropped the sewing to her lap and sighed. She was tired of suppressing her emotions, tired of trying to convince herself love wasn’t necessary, and tired of being last in her husband’s affections.

  Royce moved forward and bowed to Marissa. “My Lady, you look stunning this eve, but then you always do.” Marissa couldn’t help but smile. It was gratifying and it soothed her ego that he made the effort to speak with her.

  “I thank you, Sir Royce, I—”

  “Sir Royce!” Gillian called out, then glanced flirtatiously at Kellen once more. Marissa could almost see the girl thinking to cause mischief as she purposefully gave Royce a big smile. Royce certainly seemed happy enough with the attention as he hurried once more in her direction.

  Marissa sighed again. Men were such simple creatures. Could Royce not see Gillian was using him to make Kellen jealous? Could Kellen not see? Marissa wondered if she should interfere but decided against it, curious to see what Kellen would do.

  Gillian played with fire, whether she realized it or not. She smiled at Kellen’s frowns, seeming pleased, and then flirted with Royce all the more. “Sir Royce, I feel so safe with you. If you were to take me for a ride tomorrow, I know I’d feel protected. I’ve been completely cooped up here with nowhere to go.”

  Royce’s chest expanded and he smiled, obviously flattered by the attention. Marissa rolled her eyes. Flattered? Truly? And Kellen was jealous? Truly? Could not they both see she was using them to achieve her own ends? Verily, men were simpletons!

  “If you could take me to the cemetery, I know a big strong man such as yourself wouldn’t fear anything.” Gillian reached up and placed a hand on Royce’s arm; and Kellen growled, surged forward, grabbed Gillian’s wrist, and dragged her away.

  Marissa half rose from her chair, thinking to intervene, but the foolish girl didn’t even look upset. If anything, she looked triumphant!

  Marissa sank down again. It would serve her right if Kellen took her off to beat her for her unseemly behavior.

  Everyone in the room quieted as they listened to Kellen yelling at Gillian and then… laughter? Kellen and Gillian were laughing?

  Marissa’s mouth parted. How? How did that girl do it? How did she wrap Kellen around her finger the way she did?

  Perhaps Marissa should be asking herself how she could do the same with her own husband? She wondered what he would do if he caught her flirting with Sir Royce. Would he drag her off to laugh with her?

  Perhaps Marissa should be more demanding and… and… flirtatious with her husband? Her heart started to beat hard in her chest at the thought.

  “My lady? Are you well?” asked Sir Royce.

  “I am well,” she answered, her voice breathless.

  Perhaps instead of trying so hard to teach Gillian lessons she had no desire to learn, Marissa should pay more attention to the girl and learn from her.

  Learn to flirt with her own husband. Learn to seduce her own husband. The thought made Marissa feel faint. She would not dare to talk to her husband the way Gillian spoke to Kellen. Would she? Could she act like Gillian?

  She remembered catching Gillian kissing Kellen in the solar like a common maid. And what was her reward for such base behavior? Only that Kellen looked upon her as if the moon and sun rose from her as he lavished gifts on her.

  “Lady Marissa? Are you well?” asked Lady Yvonne.

  Marissa waved a hand. “I am fine.” She smiled. She was more than fine. She stared at the exit where Kellen had dragged Gillian and considered how she would feel if her own husband did the same to her. Perhaps she would wear a look of triumph on her face as well.

  She sucked in a ragged breath, caught the look Vera and Yvonne shared, forced herself to smile at everyone, and picked up her sewing as if nothing was wrong. As if nothing had changed.

  But it had.

  Lady Marissa Hardbrook was going to start paying attention and figure out how to seduce her husband. As a man, and therefore a simple creature, he did not stand a chance.

  * * *

  Gripping Gillian’s wrist, Kellen pulled her out of the great hall and around the corner from the kitchens. He needed privacy to discuss the fact that he was Gillian’s betrothed, and she needed reminding.

  When he reached the relative privacy of the alcove, he whirled her about, only to catch her smiling at him. His brows pulled together and he frowned. “You flirt with another man in my presence and think it amusing?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do. You’re easy to tweak and I got exactly the reaction I’d hoped for.”

  He gaped for a moment, at a loss for words, then finally inhaled. “You made me feel this,” he hit his chest for emphasis, “apurpose?”

  “Yes.”

  He shook his head, trying to clear his wits. “So you do not have feelings for Sir Royce?”

  Gillian laughed. “Hardly. He’s like a little boy next to you. I was only trying to make you jealous.” She reached up to pet his arm and, when his muscles bunched
involuntarily, she practically purred. “Mmm. I have to say, it was pretty easy to do.”

  He could not think clearly with her touching him, muddling his thoughts, but was so relieved she touched him, that she did not want Sir Royce, he could not help laughing. He intentionally tightened his arm, and his mood lightened as she tested his strength with her fingers, a pleased expression upon her face. “To be more precise,” he said, “Royce is like a little girl next to me.”

  She laughed and slapped his arm. “Don’t be mean,” she said, but continued to giggle. Triumphant, he laughed again, finally able to relax completely, the rage and confusion gone.

  “I am surprised you would admit to a desire to make me jealous.”

  Gillian tilted her head. “Why wouldn’t I? It worked, didn’t it?”

  His brows drew together. “Aye. It worked all too well. I wonder that you would do this thing? To what purpose? Mayhap to capture my attention?” Strangely enough he could not help feeling flattered; no one had ever cared to try and make him jealous before.

  She chuckled. “You like that, huh? Well, don’t get too excited. It turns out you’re a pushover and an easy target.”

  “Well, then? Why would you do such a thing?”

  “I’m glad you asked. I am,” she poked him in the chest, “going out to that cemetery. If you don’t take me, I’ll keep trying until I find a way there; even if I have to find someone else to help me.”

  Kellen looked down at her stubborn expression and raised chin. He had a difficult time believing a lost bracelet meant so much. “What of the bracelet I gave to you? Do you not care for it?”

  She bent her head and touched the metal, running her fingers over the stones. “I like this one too; if I ever lose it, I’ll certainly go looking for it.”

  He’d noted before she was an acquisitive little thing, carrying her pack about at the oddest moments. Mayhap she would get it into her head to acquire him and be as unbending and possessive? He would not mind if she did.

  Kellen lifted his head, listened, and realized the hall was silent, everyone no doubt trying to hear their conversation. He exhaled a pent-up breath, grabbed Gillian’s wrist again, and dragged her away.

  “Now where are you taking me?”

  “Wait and see.” Accompanied by Gillian’s occasional giggle, he dragged her across the bailey, started up the stairs, and headed for the top of the wall. He easily held her upright when she tripped and, when she giggled again, he had a difficult time biting back his own smile. No doubt he was a fool for Gillian, but there was no need to bare the fact to the guards manning their posts.

  When they reached the top, he gestured to his men and they melted into the darkness. Gillian moved forward to lean into the short, stone wall and lifted her face to the slight summer breeze. She glanced at the torchlight, then out over the ramparts, and into the darkness. “It’s so romantic up here at night.”

  “Think you?”

  She looked over her shoulder and grinned at him. “You’re not planning to throw me off, are you?”

  “’Tis tempting, to be sure.” Placing hands on the stones on either side of her, he trapped her within his arms, bending his head to hers so he could press his cheek against her own. “It would be no more than you deserve for upsetting me so.”

  “Mmm.” Gillian moved her face against his, and he couldn’t help a tremor of pleasure. He’d thought to take her to task again, either for her stubbornness or for succeeding in driving him mad; but when she leaned back into him, his breath caught and, instead, he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her cheek.

  “We are to be married soon,” his voice deepened at the thought. “I can hardly wait for our wedding night.”

  Gillian shivered and he smiled, well pleased with her response.

  After a few moments, Gillian stirred in his arms. “Kellen, about that picnic—”

  “Nay. Mayhap later in the summer.”

  “Fine. No picnic. Just take me out there for a short while and let me look around.”

  “Nay.”

  After a long pause, Gillian shrugged. “Maybe you’re worried you can’t protect me. That you aren’t strong enough, after all, to fight off any threats.”

  Kellen tensed and thought to pull away, but she held fast to his arms wrapped around her waist and he settled. He was not an idiot. He could see she tried to manage him again. He could also see she would not give up the idea. She was relentless.

  He hoped it bade well for their future. If she were to fall in love with him, would she be as unmoving in her feelings? He could only hope. He inhaled her intoxicating scent, like the sun after a storm, and gave in. “All right.”

  Gillian squealed and turned in his arms. “Really?”

  Kellen straightened, stepped back, crossed his arms, and sighed long and loud so she would know he was put upon. “I will take you. I will have the men search the trees, the rocks, any hiding places beforehand. You may look about the place to your heart’s content, but that is all. No picnic, and there is to be a price.”

  “Tomorrow? You promise?”

  “Aye. For a price.”

  “What price?”

  “A kiss.”

  Gillian laughed and he tensed, which only seemed to make her giggle all the more. “That’s not a price. I’ve been wanting to kiss you again anyway. But I accept your terms.” She pushed at his stiff arms until he opened them, pressed against him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and tugged.

  After a moment he allowed his head to drop, and she pressed her mouth to his. He could not help the moan that escaped when her lips moved against his own in the lightest of kisses.

  His arms encircled her, tightened, and pulled her closer, higher, his mouth tasting hers, one hand rising to slip into her hair, to hold her close, as he gave himself up to the moment, to the feel of her lips against his own.

  Minutes later, heart pounding in his chest, he broke away from the kiss and was glad to note he was not the only one breathing hard.

  “More,” she whispered and, gratified, he bent his head and kissed her again, holding her to him, and loving the way she clung. He finally ended the kiss with one last gentle brush of his lips across hers.

  Trembling, she pressed her face into his chest as she tried to catch her breath and he laughed softly. “Gillian,” he whispered as he held her tight. “What am I to do with you?”

  “Keep me forever?”

  He chuckled, bent and kissed her soft neck, and was gratified when she shivered. “I will have to, will I not? For I have not the strength to let you go.”

  “Then don’t. Don’t ever let me go. I feel safe and protected in your arms, weak against your strength.”

  He could not help it. He leaned back and kissed her once more; one quick kiss to her soft lips, then taking a deep breath, he forced himself to release her, to step back while he still could.

  She clung and he could not help but feel pleased by her reluctance to let him go. She might be bossy, opinionated, and difficult; and she did not stay where she was told; but by the saints, she pleased him.

  “Come.” He took her soft hand in his rough one and descended the stairs. He did not regret letting her goad him into going to the cemetery on the morrow. It was becoming over important to her.

  He just needed to let her visit the place, get it over with, then allow her to focus all her obsessions onto him. A fine plan, if ever there was one.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  “Kellen, I’m taking her.”

  “Nay, Gillian, you are not. You already have your pack and there is no place for the child.”

  Gillian raised her chin and shifted Amelia on her hip. “Then we can walk. I’ll carry her.”

  Kellen threw his arms up in the air, turned away, and then back again. Muttering under his breath, he took Amelia, set her on the ground, lifted Gillian onto his horse, handed Amelia up, then mounted.

  He sat unmoving for a moment. “Must you take your pack?” he asked with exaggerated pa
tience.

  She risked a glance at his gorgeous face, at his lips, compressed in a tight line, and tried to shift so the pack on her back wasn’t against his chest. “Yes, I must,” she said in a small voice.

  He sighed, giving up any pretense of patience. “I will yield. But only as I want this finished. I do not wish to give you an excuse to insist we go once more. I want your word that after this day you will not mention the blasted place again. Not once until I am an old man and ’tis time to place my weary, browbeaten bones into the ground. Only then may you remember the location.”

  Gillian laughed at his vehemence. “You have my word.” When they finally moved forward, she couldn’t help glancing back, missing the place already. To the best of her ability, she’d said her goodbyes to Marissa and her ladies, to Sir Owen and Sir Tristan, to Beatrice, Cook and the others. She hoped they’d remember her fondly and felt bad for the confusion they were sure to feel when the three of them didn’t return.

  She tried to ignore the heavy weight of guilt squeezing her chest. She couldn’t imagine this place without Kellen. But Sir Owen and Sir Tristan would keep things running smoothly until something could be figured out. She loved Kellen and, selfish or not, was taking him with her.

  Anyway, who was to say it had to be forever? She didn’t know how the whole time travel thing worked. They might be able to come back again. Right? After his ring was on her finger and Edith could no longer lay claim to him.

  Kellen took them outside the gates and looked around. “My men have searched the area.”

  “No!” She tightened her arms around Amelia. “I just want it to be the three of us.”

  Another exhalation, then he spoke again. “My men are further afield, ’tis simply a safeguard. They have been told to keep their distance unless needed. We will be alone.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She hesitated. “Thanks.”

  They rode slowly through the village, and Gillian tried to soak it all in. She waved at two young women who waved back energetically, watched a group of children tease a kitten with pieces of long grass, and noticed the respectful way the men greeted Kellen as he rode past. She was well aware this could be the last time they saw this place and these people who depended so much on him.