Vengeance 02 - Trust In Me

by Lana Williams

  “How are you feeling?”

  Brom grinned. “I don’t know. Am I still ill?”

  “For a bit longer,” Nicholas answered. “Did Stephen bring you food?”

  “Not since this morning. I haven’t seen him.”

  Puzzled, Nicholas said, “I’ll have him fetch you something as soon as I find him.”

  He paused at the entrance to the stable, scanning the bailey. Men trained near the garrison, their swords clanging in the air, but even from this distance he saw Stephen was not among them. Sir Kenneth directed the men, his orders booming across the bailey.

  Nicholas decided Stephen would not have remained there long with Kenneth staring him down, so he headed in the opposite direction, passing the open door of the chandler’s hut. The small man inside twisted hemp into wicks for candles.

  The potter’s was next door, a stack of plates on the table inside. “Not like that, you oaf!” The sound of breaking pottery filled the air.

  Still no sign of Stephen.

  The spring sun felt warm on Nicholas’s face as he searched, the sky a deep blue. He wondered what occupied Elizabeth this day. Perhaps she was weaving one of those beautiful tapestries. The thought of her elegant fingers working a loom made him grit his teeth. He had to stop thinking about her like that.

  Nicholas rounded the corner of a cottage in the lower bailey when he heard peals of laughter. He paused, realizing how long it had been since he’d last heard such joyful mirth. He walked toward it, unable to resist finding the source.

  As though he’d conjured her out of thin air, Elizabeth sat on a low bench outside one of the cottages surrounded by several children. This time, it was Elizabeth’s laughter that filled the air. She clapped her hands, apparently delighted at one child’s antics.

  Nicholas stopped where he was, observing her, his fascination with her growing. This was not the reserved woman he’d met yesterday, nor the appealing woman of last night.

  She wore a simple kirtle of golden yellow that reflected the spring sunshine. Her brown eyes were warm and inviting. Her smile begged to be returned. He could feel his mood lightening even as he watched her. She kept her gaze on the little girl before her as she reached to cuddle a small boy who’d sidled up next to her.

  “That’s wonderful, Sarah,” she told the girl before turning to the boy. “What songs do you know, Edmund?” She glanced up, startling as she caught sight of him. “Lord Trisbane?”

  Nicholas hadn’t realized he’d walked closer. “Good day, my lady.”

  “I thought you were leaving.” She bolted upright, nearly toppling over the little boy. Her face flooded with color as her gaze darted everywhere except at him.

  She was embarrassed? At being caught playing with the children? Confused, he watched her. “We were delayed as my man-at-arms still feels poorly.”

  “Oh? I’m sorry to hear that.” Her hands fluttered, touching the boy’s head then smoothing her gown.

  The little girl stepped forward to stand in front of Nicholas. “Are you a knight, sir?”

  Nicholas looked down at the child and smiled. “Aye, but I’m a lord as well.”

  “A lord? Truly?”

  Her doubtful expression made Nicholas chuckle. He squatted down so he could look her in the eyes. “Don’t I look like a lord?”

  “Nay, sir. All the lords I’ve seen are old and ugly.”

  “Sarah,” Elizabeth admonished her.

  “’Tis all right,” Nicholas said. “I think Sarah has a valid point.” He winked at Elizabeth, who blushed an even deeper shade.

  “My lady?” a woman’s voice called from inside the cottage. “May I ask your assistance?”

  “A moment, Edith,” Elizabeth answered. “Was there something you needed, Lord Trisbane?”

  “Aye. You.”

  Her mouth opened, and she stared down at him, eyes round, clearly shocked by his answer.

  Their surroundings narrowed until all he saw was her. He slowly stood, ignoring the wide-eyed girl between them. Lord, he did need her. Though he’d been watching for her most of the day, now that he had her, he couldn’t think of what he was supposed to do.

  He smiled, trying to ease the sudden tension in the air. “I was hoping to speak with you again.”

  “Oh.” She looked down at the girl and to the other children standing nearby. “I need to help Edith and then I suppose I’ll have a bit of time.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  Her expression turned doubtful. “Here? With the children? Perhaps you should return to the hall,” she suggested.

  She could not lose him that easily, not after he’d waited most of the day to find her. “Aye. Here. With the children.”

  “Lady Elizabeth?” the woman in the cottage called again.

  “Children, be on your best behavior with Lord Trisbane, please. I’ll return shortly.” She gave each of them a stern look then shot him one last glance before entering the cottage.

  He waited, hands on hips, wishing he’d asked how long she’d be. A giggle sounded, bringing Nicholas’s attention back to the children. They stared as though waiting for him to do something.

  Was he supposed to entertain them? Perhaps meeting Elizabeth in the hall would’ve been a better choice.

  But no. He could do this. They were children after all. How hard could it be?

  *

  “We’ll need more birch leaves come summer for the yellow colors and juniper berries for certain, don’t you agree, my lady?” Edith, the dyer, sorted through a basket of thread, her stout form bent with age.

  “Ah...indeed. That would do nicely.” Elizabeth couldn’t keep her mind on the task before her. Selecting the proper colors with the dyer was an important job, especially for the threads for her tapestries, but her mind wandered outside.

  “Is something wrong?” Edith peered up at Elizabeth with a concerned frown on her wrinkled face.

  “Actually, I need to tend to another matter. Could we finish this later?”

  “Certainly. Were those children bothering you?”

  “Nay. Nothing like that.”

  “Oh.” The emphasis the dyer put on the word made Elizabeth follow the old woman’s gaze outside.

  “Ohhh,” Elizabeth repeated in a sigh, her heart melting at the sight before her.

  Lord Trisbane sat on the ground, Sarah’s small form cuddled in his lap. Edmund stood before him with a stick in his hand. The lord seemed to be instructing the boy on the proper way to wield a sword.

  “That man would be a good one to hold on to, my lady.”

  “What?” So enthralled by the sight of the powerful lord entertaining the children, it took Elizabeth a moment to realize what Edith meant. She shook her head. “He’s just passing through.”

  “Mark my words; he’ll be back.” She gave Elizabeth a pat on the arm. “Go on with you now. ’Tis a fine afternoon for a little romance. Moments such as these should be seized, my lady, for they are rare indeed.” She laughed and nudged Elizabeth out the door.

  Rather than trying to explain this was not one of those moments, Elizabeth conceded. “Good day to you, Edith. I’ll return soon.” She stepped out of the dark cottage and shaded her eyes from the afternoon sun.

  And sighed again.

  Sarah leaned back against Lord Trisbane, the warmth of the sun obviously making her tired. He adjusted his arm to make her more comfortable and smiled down at her when she looked up at him with a sleepy smile.

  With more patience than she would’ve expected, he spoke to Edmund again. “Straighten your arm. That’s it. Now turn sideways so you make less of a target. Don’t hold it so tight. Handle the weapon as though it’s part of you.”

  For a man with no plans to have a family of his own, he had a way with children. Seeing him like this made her long for far more from him than a brief kiss. His black hair glinted in the sunlight. His expression was warm and relaxed, as though he were truly enjoying the moment.

  He glanced up and caught her staring, much t
o her dismay. “Are you finished?”

  “Aye.”

  He rose, picking up Sarah as he stood. He gave her a little tickle under her chin before setting her down. “Well done, Edmund. You have a fine sword arm already. Keep practicing.”

  The boy smiled shyly, gave a quick bow, and ran off to do battle with a nearby tree.

  “And good day to you, Lady Sarah.” He bowed low, making the girl burst into giggles.

  “How do you know just the right thing to say?” Elizabeth asked. “They adore you.”

  He shrugged and moved toward her with a wicked smile. “I have a way with ladies.”

  She laughed, for his words held more truth than he knew.

  He stepped closer, smelling of sunshine, fresh and clean. His blue tunic was several shades darker than his eyes and made his chest appear even broader.

  Elizabeth forgot to breathe as he lifted her hand and tucked it beneath his elbow. He drew her forward, setting a leisurely pace through the village.

  She longed to jerk her hand away from him, to step back and clear her head. Breathing might be difficult when she was this close to him, but thinking was impossible.

  He looked down and smiled at her, his mouth directly in her line of vision. Oh, those lips. How she wished she could lift her face to his and capture them. She didn’t want the memory of her first kiss to be the tentative brush of lips they’d shared the previous night. She wasn’t a young girl, she was a woman grown.

  Grown women deserved real kisses. Didn’t they?

  Edith was right.

  Some moments were meant to be seized.

  Before she could think through her impulse, she drew to a stop as they reached the back of a cottage, well protected from anyone’s view.

  “I wondered – that is to say – do you suppose you could...” Oh, heavens, what was she thinking? What if he rejected her? What if he didn’t? Her mind tumbled. Never before had she met a man who made her willing to take such a risk.

  “What is it?” He stood beside her, his gaze searching hers, her hand still encompassed within his warm one.

  “Would you consider granting me a small favor?” She bowed her head, needing a respite from those eyes so she could think of how to form her question. A deep breath did little to ease her nerves. She glanced around to make certain this secluded spot held no witnesses for her desperate behavior.

  His fingers curled around her chin and lifted her face. “What is it?” His expression held concern and gentleness.

  Her gaze fell to his full, sculpted lips. “Would you please...kiss me?”

  He jerked back, obviously surprised. “Well.” His gaze dropped to her lips before darting back to her eyes. “I’m not...I don’t think that would be wise.”

  “Please?” She had nothing to lose. On the morrow, he’d be far from Amberley, never to be seen again. They stood in a sheltered spot. What harm could there be?

  He moved closer, his blue gaze heating, creating an answering warmth in her. He bent his head toward hers, his intense focus stealing all her thoughts except one.

  Kiss me.

  Had she said it aloud or only thought it?

  It mattered not because he pressed his lips to hers. Gone was the tentative touch of the previous night. He cupped her face with his hands, tilting her to better fit against him. His lips parted, and her head spun at the additional sensations that flooded her.

  Aye! This was what she’d been looking for. Longing for. His tongue danced with hers. Heat churned within her. Wanting only to be closer, she reached up and ran her hands across those broad shoulders where muscles shifted beneath her fingers. She tangled her fingers in his soft hair, surprised at its smooth texture.

  His mouth left hers, and she moaned in protest, not ready for this pleasure to end, but then his lips followed her jaw line, nuzzled her neck, his tongue swirling her ear lobe. Her knees buckled at the feeling, warmth pooling low in her belly.

  How could she feel so much?

  His mouth returned to hers, and their tongues danced for a second time as his hands molded her body to his. He ran them down the length of her, pausing on her hips then her waist, before moving higher until he hesitated at the swell of her breasts. Her body tensed in anticipation.

  As though he read her mind and her body, his thumbs raised and caressed the tips before his hands engulfed her breasts. The strength of him thrilled her even as fear speared through her.

  It was all so much.

  Too much, these feelings that coursed through her.

  She wrenched back, stepping out of his arms, and away from his touch. “My goodness – I mean – thank you. That was quite – interesting.” Smoothing her skirts, she took another step back.

  Unable to form a complete thought, she did the only thing she could think to do. Flee.

  But her good manners forced her to bid him farewell first. “Good day, my lord. Thanks again.”

  By all that was holy, she’d gotten far more than she’d asked for.

  So much more than a simple kiss.

  Chapter Six

  Nicholas watched her go, though he longed to draw her back. The sway of her hips taunted him as she disappeared amid the cottages in the bailey.

  Interesting? His heart still thundered in his chest, he ached with need, and she’d thought that kiss interesting? He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, hoping to remove the feel of her soft mouth.

  Why had she asked him to kiss her? Was she a woman of loose morals rather than the innocent maiden he’d thought? Did she collect kisses the way some women collected ribbons?

  For the first time in a long while, a woman made him want something more than the solitary future he had planned, made him reconsider the risk. He wished he were Lord Trisbane, a normal man simply passing through who stumbled upon this beauty tucked away in this keep.

  Then he imagined her face when she discovered his secret – gone was her warm smile and her penchant for his kisses. In their place were distrust and fear, expressions he’d seen on so many other faces over the years.

  Marriage was not for him. Not only could he not trust others, he would not risk cursing a child with second sight. To know that another person suffered as he did, and he could’ve prevented it – nay. He would never let that come to pass.

  Elizabeth was not for him. Why could he not remember that when they were together?

  Nothing could come of their mutual attraction. He’d told her the truth last eve. He had no intention of marrying, and she was a lady who had every right to expect a betrothal from a lord with whom she shared kisses.

  With a shake of his head, he returned his focus to his true purpose here.

  William.

  He’d now touched the lady several times and no vision had been forthcoming. He hoped that meant she had nothing to do with William. Since she hadn’t provided him with any answers, he needed to seek out Lord Crefton. He had to resolve this as quickly as possible and get back to William.

  He tried to gather his thoughts, to form a plan of some sort as he returned to the keep. If Crefton was still unavailable, that left the dungeon. Perhaps he could find answers there.

  “I like the sound of that,” a familiar male voice said, interrupting Nicholas’s thoughts as he passed a cottage. A feminine giggle drifted out its narrow window, followed by the man’s chuckle.

  “Come here, you saucy wench, and I’ll show you what for.”

  Stephen! Could the man not keep on his chausses? Nicholas should have guessed how the soldier might spend the afternoon if given the chance. No matter that he’d had a similar notion in mind himself a few moments ago.

  Annoyed, Nicholas pushed open the door and stood in the entrance. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior, but soon he spotted Stephen on the narrow bed in the corner of the room, the bed linens covering his arse. He could only assume the “saucy wench” was beneath him.

  “Stephen!”

  Stephen’s grunts and movements stopped. He looked back
over his shoulder. Then he hung his head. “I beg a moment, if you please, my lord.”

  “Now, Stephen.” A dark satisfaction filled him at interrupting the man’s pleasure. It seemed only fair that Nicholas was not the only one frustrated this day.

  “Aye, my lord.” With a murmur to the woman, Stephen rolled off of her and stood, keeping the bed linen before him. He offered Nicholas a sheepish smile. “Sorry, my lord. I got a bit distracted.”

  Nicholas didn’t bother to respond. He turned and stepped outside to wait.

  “I’m terribly sorry, Lord de Bremont,” Stephen said as he joined Nicholas, still tucking his tunic into his chausses.

  “Quiet!” Nicholas glanced around quickly to make sure no one had heard Stephen’s blunder. “Lord Trisbane, remember?”

  “Oh, right. My apologies,” Stephen whispered back, his face red with embarrassment.

  “Have you been here this entire time?” Nicholas asked, incredulous at the man’s lack of focus.

  “Nay, nay. I searched everywhere for Lord Crefton this morning and had no luck. Sir Kenneth glowered at anyone who spoke to me while I watched the men train, so I learned nothing there. The only other thing I could think to do was see if any of the servants had loose tongues.”

  “And?” Nicholas asked.

  “The one I just left has a very loose tongue,” he said with a grin and a waggle of his brows. He sobered quickly when Nicholas didn’t share his amusement. “She told me Crefton often remains in his chamber on the second floor at the back of the keep. She said the death of his son has been a terrible blow to him.”

  Nicholas pushed aside the sympathy he felt and started walking, gesturing for Stephen to follow. “He’s got to leave his chamber sooner or later. You need to be vigilant. The sooner I meet him, the sooner we can leave.”

  “Of course.” Stephen sighed as he combed through his hair with his fingers. “It’s just that pretty wench who served us last night has been wiggling her hips at me since we arrived. When she offered more this afternoon, I couldn’t resist.” He smiled again but grew serious when Nicholas glared at him.

  Aye, Nicholas thought. Women offering ‘more’ were certainly hard to resist and a common occurrence at this holding.