Mary Gillgannon

by The Leopard

  “Marvelous!” Fitz Hugh boomed. He gave Sir Richard a mighty thump on the back. The brutal blow did not appear to faze the man called the Black Leopard in the least. If anything, his gloating grin widened.

  “Well, then, there is much I must do in the little time I have remaining here. I’m off to see the King. I’ll leave you young people to your own devices.”

  Lord Fitz Hugh strode off rapidly, leaving the two knights and two ladies standing silent, each taking the measure of the other. De Lacy spread his hands in a gesture of mock regret. “Alas, demoiselles, it appears you are stuck with us.”

  “As you are with us,” Marguerite answered coyly.

  Astra said nothing. In fact, she doubted she would ever speak again. Her stomach was a coil of knots, her knees on the verge of collapsing beneath her. She looked steadily at the floor. Perhaps if she prayed hard enough and long enough, God would take pity on her and make Sir Richard disappear.

  “Lady Astra seems distressed, does she not?” Reivers said softly. “Perhaps I should see her to her sleeping chamber so she can lie down and rest.”

  Astra jerked her head up, ready to protest. She met Reivers’s dark eyes and felt the words die in her throat. This man had some terrible effect on her. His very presence seemed to render her mute.

  “Richard, I fear we have distressed Lady Astra. Perhaps we should take leave of these ladies for now,” de Lacy suggested..

  “Perhaps that would be best.” Marguerite placed a soothing hand upon Astra’s arm. “Lady Astra was raised in a convent, and she has just begun to explore the delights of the outside world. We must give her time to grow used to the freedom and opportunities of the King’s court.”

  “Of course,” Reivers said softly. “I would not wish to overwhelm Lady Astra.”

  He took Astra’s hand and lifted it up so he might kiss it. Seeing that Astra’s fingers were clenched with tension, he gently unbent each finger and pulled it back like the petal of a flower. Then he leaned down and tenderly pressed a kiss into her exposed palm.

  The touch of Sir Richard’s lips sent a tingling warmth coursing down Astra’s body. She snatched her hand away, but it was too late. The warmth deepened. A hot flush swept over her cheeks and her insides filled with an aching heat.

  She felt almost faint, and she stepped away from Reivers unsteadily.

  “Astra, are you well?” Marguerite frowned. Her dark eyes were filled with concern.

  “I’m well, but I would like to rest. It has been a long, tiring day.”

  “Of course, ma petite,” Marguerite consoled. “We’ll go to our bedchamber now.”

  De Lacy and Sir Reivers bowed, and Astra followed Marguerite from the hall. Her heart seemed to thud loudly with every step.

  Eight

  “Sir Richard and Lord de Lacy can wait in the hallway for the rest of their lives for all I care. I’m not leaving this room.” Astra plopped stubbornly onto one of the Queen’s plush settees and crossed her arms over the rich green velvet of her riding habit.

  Marguerite rolled her eyes upward, as if beseeching the heavens for strength. “Don’t be obstinate, Astra. The Queen can be quite patient and sympathetic, but she won’t tolerate your hiding away in the ladies’ chamber... unless you tell her the real reason you don’t want to come out.”

  “Sir Reivers would well deserve it if I did tell the Queen. He’s insufferable! I think he actually enjoyed seeing me blush and stammer in his presence last night!”

  “He is a bit smug, isn’t he? It might do him good to be brought down a notch or two. All that is required, Astra, is for you to spread the word that Sir Richard is a worthless rogue who spies on ladies as they bathe. The Queen—despite her extravagance—is really quite prudish. She’ll likely have him banished from court for good.”

  Astra uncrossed her arms and sighed. “I don’t want to see him suffer complete disgrace, only make him squirm a little. Why, to think he stood there, so polite and kissing my hand, and all the while he knew exactly what I look like naked—every blessed inch of me!” She gave a little shiver.

  “If you were ill-formed or displeasing to look at, Astra, you might have cause for embarrassment. But the truth is, your body is so well nigh perfect, I’ve always thought it was a shame to cover it up. It is not such ill chance that Sir Richard saw you naked. Having seen you thus, he may be willing to overlook your modest dowry and ask for your hand anyway.”

  “Are you suggesting I consider Sir Richard as a husband?” Astra jumped to her feet, utterly aghast.

  Marguerite shrugged. “Why not? He’s not rich yet, but his prospects are good. He appears to be a formidable warrior, and he stands high in the King’s favor. In time he could win much land, and he certainly is handsome. With those big shoulders and dark eyes, I think he is utterly irresistible.”

  “Then you marry him! I want nothing to do with the devious, ill-mannered lout!”

  “I don’t think he wants me,” Marguerite pointed out. “Besides, my father would never permit it. He has his heart set on my wedding at least an earl.”

  “Oh bother.” Astra sank down on the settee again. “Can you not see that I despise Sir Richard and I hope never to lay eyes upon him again?”

  “You hardly know the man. He may have many good qualities you have not yet discovered.”

  Astra’s mind leapt to the thought of Sir Richard kissing her hand, the feel of his silky mouth on her palm. Was it a good quality for the mere sight or touch of a man to make her swoon? God help her, she was right to stay as far away from him as possible.

  “Marguerite, you must help me out of this coil. I know your father expects Reivers and de Lacy to keep company with us, but I simply cannot do it. The mere thought of being near that man makes me ill.”

  “As you wish,” Marguerite agreed, heading toward the door. “I will tell Sir Richard that you will not be attending the hunt because the very sight of him sickens you.”

  “Nay, do not tell him that! I do not want to be cruel. Can you not make up some other excuse?”

  “But that would be lying. Surely you do not want me to lie for you?”

  “Of course not.” Astra twisted her hands together uneasily. “But perhaps you could soften the truth a little. Explain how upset I am over the... the incident in the forest. Surely he will understand my ill-ease.”

  “I will try, but I know Sir Richard will be disappointed. In truth, I think his interest in you is genuine.”

  Marguerite left the room. Astra got up and began to pace. Now that the thing was done, her conscience bothered her. She did not want to hurt Sir Richard. For all that he had rudely spied on her, he had also rescued her from those dreadful men. Perhaps she owed him something. Perhaps she was being unfair not to offer him a chance to redeem himself.

  She went to the oriel window and sat down heavily on the cushioned seat. She could see out into the palace gardens, and the sight of the lush foliage reminded her that she was missing the excitement and pageantry of a royal hunt. Her lovely new clothes and all the weeks of riding lessons were going to waste, and it was only the first of many sacrifices she would have to make if she continued to shun Sir Richard’s company. She was being a coward, avoiding things she did not have the courage to face. Perhaps it would be better if she confronted Sir Richard and insisted he apologize to her.

  The sound of the door opening behind her made her turn in surprise. She came quickly to her feet when she saw Sir Richard in the doorway. He looked even more formidable than she remembered. For a moment she stared at him, too shocked to speak. Then she cleared her throat and spoke as calmly as she could. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to ask your pardon.”

  Astra tried to think of what to say next. The realization she was alone with this huge, threatening man seemed to blot out all her other thoughts. “You shouldn’t be here,” she finally managed.

  “Why not?”

  “Because... because we should not be alone together.”

 
“I had no choice. You would not see me otherwise, and I must talk to you.”

  Astra noticed his wicked smile appeared to be missing. Somehow, without it, he seemed even more frightening. She stepped back toward the window seat, feeling trapped. “Please, my lord, say what you have come to say.”

  Sir Richard quickly closed the space between them. He did not stop until he was only a hand’s breadth away. Then he sank to his knees at her feet.

  “What are you doing?” Astra gasped.

  “I am begging your pardon.” He reached for her hand.

  “Don’t!”

  “Alas, you hate me.”

  “Nay, I do not!”

  “You will not speak to me. You will not let me touch your hand. You must hate me.” He bowed his head.

  “It is not that. It is... I am afraid of you!”

  Sir Richard looked up, his beautiful dark eyes wide with surprise. “Afraid? What do you think I would do to you?”

  Astra stared at him. What, indeed? This man had saved her life. Why should she think he would hurt her? “I don’t know,” she answered.

  Once again, he gave her that look, bewildered, perhaps even a little hurt. It pierced Astra’s heart. She suddenly felt she had wronged him.

  “I wanted to explain...” Sir Richard began, “... about the day you were swimming and I watched you.”

  Astra felt herself blush to the roots of her hair. She turned away, not wanting to be reminded of her folly, to relive the horror of finding him in the bushes.

  “I know it was a disgraceful, abominable thing to do.” He sighed. “I would not blame you if you never forgave me.”

  “Why did you do it?” Astra’s voice caught. “Why did you stay there, watching us?”

  “Why? Can you not guess? I wanted to leave, but I could not tear myself away. You were so beautiful, so exquisitely pleasing to look at. You reminded me of an angel.”

  “An angel?” She gaped at him, too surprised to remember her anger.

  He nodded. “You were all pink and white and glimmering gold. I can still recall how your hair shone flaxen in the sun. Your skin glowed as white and smooth as a marble statue. Your eyes were as sweetly blue as the clearest summer sky.” Sir Richard’s voice was husky, ragged with emotion. “Is that not how angels are described—so dazzlingly fair they near hurt your eyes?”

  “I cannot imagine you could have mistaken me for an angel,” Astra said in a disbelieving voice.

  Sir Richard sighed, suddenly looking sad and weary. “Perhaps I mistake beauty for goodness. I have seen so much ugliness in life, the blood and pain of the battlefield, the horror of torture.” He paused, and Astra had a vision of the wound on his face before it healed—a raw and bleeding slash. How much it must have hurt!

  “You cannot blame a man for being inspired by a vision of purity and innocence. When I saw you... laughing with your friend, so happy and carefree... It reminded me that there are other things in life besides death and destruction.”

  Astra felt her heart softening. A soldier’s life often was harsh and brutal. It was certainly possible such a man might be drawn to things that allowed him to forget the grimness of his profession.

  “I realize now how much I frightened you. I am sorry for that. The truth is, I am a weak, selfish man. Sometimes I do loathsome things.”

  Astra nodded. She knew what it was like to do things she was ashamed of. “We all do things we regret,” she said. “The important thing is to ask God for forgiveness and to try and do better in the future.”

  “I have asked God for forgiveness. But I must know—will you forgive me?”

  Astra stared at Sir Richard, torn by her conflicting emotions. The man seemed genuinely contrite. He was kneeling at her feet, begging for her forgiveness. She even thought she caught the glitter of tears in his dark eyes. Having the means to soothe his pain and knowing it was blessed to forgive, how could she deny him the soothing balm of absolution?

  “I... I will try.”

  Sir Richard got to his feet rapidly, his dusky countenance lit with a bright smile. “I knew you would not withhold your pardon. I knew you would be generous.” He grabbed her hand and pressed it fiercely to his lips. Astra tried to pull away, but he was too quick for her. He leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. She jerked back, staring at him.

  “Sir Richard. Please!”

  “Call me Richard,” he said, still holding her hand.

  He was so big, so dark, so handsome. His glowing eyes, as deep and lustrous as ebony, mesmerized her.

  “Say that you will go on the next hunt with me. Say that you will let me show you London.”

  She nodded slowly, feeling as if she was in a dream. Her will seemed to leave her as she gazed into his rapt, strangely sensual face. He leaned toward her and his lips came down upon hers again. She could feel the heat of his breath, the fiery hunger of his mouth. His hands gripped her shoulders fiercely.

  A sob escaped her lips. “No, don’t! Please! You mustn’t!”

  He pulled away, his chest heaving. His mouth was wet. When his eyes swept her body, she knew he was remembering what she looked like without her clothes. The thought made her ache all over.

  “You are so good, so sweet,” he whispered. “I want to devour you.”

  She could feel his need. It terrified her. What had happened to the contrite penitent who begged for her forgiveness? Had it all been an act, an elaborate lie to weaken her defenses? If only he would go away. She needed time to think, to decide what kind of man he really was.

  “Sir Richard... you must leave.”

  He nodded and then reached out and touched her cheek. She flinched. He smiled sadly and walked toward the door. She watched him, admiring his gleaming dark hair, his broad shoulders, his long, well-muscled form. He reminded her of an animal, lithe, graceful... dangerous. When the door closed behind him, she realized she was not relieved to have him gone. Instead, she felt a sense of loss. She wondered immediately when she would see him again.

  * * *

  When Marguerite returned, she was sitting on the window seat, staring out at the gardens.

  “Ma belle, I wish you would have come,” her friend enthused. “The hunt was great fun.”

  Astra turned towards her. “He came to see me.”

  “Who came to see you?”

  “Sir Richard. He begged me to forgive him.”

  “Holy Mother! What did you do?”

  “I said I would try.”

  A sly smile crept over Marguerite’s face. “So you do fancy him, don’t you? You admit he is handsome and charming.”

  “God help me, Marguerite, I don’t know what I think. He seemed so sincere, so genuinely aggrieved that he had offended me. He even got down on his knees.” Astra turned away, not wanting her friend to see her face. “But when I said I would try to forgive him, he... he pounced on me. Like an animal. He even kissed me on the lips. I do not think it was a kiss of friendship.”

  Marguerite’s giggled. “Did you like it? How did it make you feel?”

  “I... I am ashamed to say.”

  Marguerite laughed. “This is wonderful! We’ve only been at the court a day, and a fine young knight is already pursuing you. And you, Astra, I believe you are falling in love.”

  “Love! I hardly know the man. I am appalled to admit it, but...” Astra turned away again. “What Sir Richard makes me feel can only be lust. I dare not be alone with him again.”

  “But there is no reason you cannot spend time in his company if you are properly escorted,” Marguerite reasoned. “Will has offered to show me the sights of London tomorrow. You and Sir Richard could serve as our escort, and we could serve as yours.”

  Astra looked doubtful. She had told Sir Richard she would see him again, but she was not sure it was wise. Still, why had she come to London, if not to experience the sights of the city? She would be more careful this time. De Lacy and Reivers had vowed to protect her and Marguerite, and she believed Lord de Lacy at least was a man o
f his word. A sudden thought came to Astra, and she turned to regard her friend intently.

  “You seem quite interested in the Baron of Thornbury, and he is certainly wealthy enough to please your father. Could it be you consider de Lacy a prospect as a husband?”

  Marguerite frowned. A slight crease marred her smooth forehead. “I do like Will, but I’m not sure he returns my interest. In all the time we spent together today, he never attempted to kiss me, or to even touch me except in a brotherly way.” She shrugged. “Perhaps he does not find me pleasing.”

  “Perhaps he has too much respect for you to paw you as Sir Richard did me.” Astra shivered. “That man reminds me of an animal, a beast. No wonder they call him the Black Leopard. There is something absolutely ferocious about him.”

  “Ferocious.” Marguerite laughed again. “It seems a likely word to describe a man who would be a marvelous lover.”

  * * *

  The moon was a bright crescent in the sky, the air balmy and soft. Still, the loveliness of the evening was not enough to banish the squalor of the row of rough taverns that hulked on the edge of the river. Richard grimaced as he walked beside them. Usually the ugliness and danger of Southwark excited him. Tonight was different. His mind was filled with the image of a pale, glimmering creature whose mouth was as fresh as springtime. By comparison, the rough side of London seemed repellingly sordid and crude. He could not block out the stench of piss and rotting garbage that rose from the gutters, nor ignore the harsh voices and cackling laughter emanating from the darkened alleys.

  He felt a stab of yearning as he thought of the woman he had left. Lady Astra had turned out to be everything he had dreamed of. She might be incomparably sweet and tender-hearted, but he suspected a core of molten passion burned beneath her demure exterior. One kiss and she had been deeply aroused, near beside herself with desire. If a kiss could do that, what would she be like when he had a chance to properly seduce her? He imagined her ripe, full breasts cradled in his hands, her slender thighs spread to receive him. For a moment, the ugliness of his surroundings fell away. It was almost as if she had enchanted him and redeemed his jaded soul. Perhaps she truly was an angel.