by Dayna Quince
She heard someone enter and leaned over to look. It was two lads. By their conversation, the ax throw had just finished, and Lord Davey had won.
Maddie leaned back again as the boys collected some rope and left again. She sighed and hoped that her prayers would be answered. She closed her eyes, then jerked them open when the stable doors opened again. This time it was Lord Berett. He was riddling off orders to his manservant. They stopped and looked at a horse. He issued instructions, and then they excited. Maddie had held her breath the entire time, afraid he would somehow sense her.
Her heart lurched when the door opened again, but this time she smiled in relief. Jonathan sauntered in, looking agitated and sweaty.
“Jonathan!” she whispered as loud as she could.
He stopped in his tracks. “Maddie?”
“Up here, in the loft.”
He looked up at her in bewilderment, and she smiled down at him.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m hiding.”
“From who?”
“Everyone but you. Get up here quickly.”
He swiftly climbed up, kneeling on his haunches beside her. Maddie shuffled back as he made the somewhat large loft feel incredibly smaller with just his presence.
“Is Lady Flora holding you captive again?”
“In a way. I’m to spend the day in solitude and reflection in my room.”
“That sounds like torture.”
Maddie pictured the ottoman in her father’s room. “I’ve had worse. A bit of quiet this morning was refreshing. How did you fare in the tournament?”
“I’ve won in sword, lost to Banks in Archery and Davey in the ax throw. Next is the joust.”
“I heard. The stable boys were talking about it. Lord Berett also came through just before you.”
“What was he doing?” Jonathan frowned.
“He was telling his man to ready an ice bath and other nonsense and then they stopped to look at that horse.” She pointed.
Jonathan looked and scowled. “That’s my horse.”
“They didn’t do anything, only looked,” Maddie assured him. “Do you think he’d try to sabotage you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why did you come in here?” Maddie asked.
“I too needed solitude and reflection.” He smiled teasingly.
“Shall I leave you alone?”
“No.” He took her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. “I’ve got something better we can do.”
With one tug, he had her against him, and he fell back onto a pile of hay. Maddie winced, and then exhaled as the pain faded.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded. “It was just unexpected. You winded me.”
“I’m sorry.” He kissed her neck.
Maddie closed her eyes. His lips were soothingly warm, his tongue hot as he made little whirls on her skin. She forgot about her tender derrière as pleasant heat filled her and set off fireworks in her stomach.
“Shouldn’t you be preparing for the joust?”
“I am.” His mouth moved against her skin. “I can ride into battle knowing I’ve already won in every way that counts.”
“It’s not a battle. It’s just a jousting tournament.” Maddie giggled. She liked the way her breasts pressed against him when they talked.
“It is much more than that to me.” He pulled back, locking eyes with her. “I’m fighting for you. I’m going to win this tournament for you.”
Maddie would have gasped if she had the ability to move her lungs. Instead, she leaned down and kissed him, tangling her tongue with his, putting every wild emotion she was feeling into the kiss. His arms came around her, squeezing her, his hands moved to her bottom, and he squeezed.
Maddie cried out.
He let go instantly. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
Maddie pinched her eyes closed and fought tears. “I—I fell last night…out of my bed. I must have bruised something.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. You couldn’t have known.” She shuddered as she released a breath. She melted into him, seeking the comforting warmth of his body.
He carefully wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Is this better?”
She nodded.
He threaded his fingers into her hair below her top knot, massaging the base of her skull.
“That feels lovely,” she moaned.
“I want to touch you somewhere else that will feel even better. I promise.”
“As long as it’s nowhere near my arse.”
He chuckled. “I don’t know if I will ever get used to your plain speaking.”
She lifted her head and smiled at him. “Please don’t. I like shocking you.”
“I wouldn’t describe myself as shocked. More delighted.”
Maddie leaned down and kissed him, losing herself again in a mindless heaven. One of his arms released her, which was unfortunate because she liked the feel of being pressed to his body. She could feel him, the hard planes and ridges. It excited her to know his body so intimately like that.
She could feel him pressing his hand between them, reaching lower until he was touching her. A bolt of pleasure struck her in her core. He made circles with his fingers teasing her with the folds of her own dress. She arched, pressing her hips into him.
“I want to touch you, Maddie, skin to skin.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He started to pull up her skirts, startling her, the welts on her backside protesting the shift of fabric, but she wanted this, she wanted him so desperately she ignored the pain. He grabbed her knee and hitched it up higher, his hand hot against the bare skin above her garter, fingers trailing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh until he reached her core. His fingers slid against her. Maddie didn’t know how or why she felt so wet there, but it felt too wonderful to ponder the reasons. He didn’t seem to care, so Maddie decided not to either.
“Oh, God, Maddie.” He pulled away and to her astonishment, tasted the fingers that had touched her. He groaned, and his hand delved back between them.
Maddie couldn’t speak. She could feel her hot blush all over her skin, and his fingers were doing wicked things that made her want more wicked things.
“Did I shock you?” His sultry voice invaded her mind.
“Yes.” She gulped down a nervous giggle.
“Good.” He grinned.
She couldn’t help grinning back. Then his fingers touched her deeper, exploring the folds of her sex. She shuddered. Her embarrassment was quickly fading, and all she wanted to do was beg him not to stop. He was sliding his fingers from her sensitive mound to her molten core over and over, and all she could do was close her eyes and press her hips against his devilish fingers.
Then his other hand lightly skimmed her bare bottom, and they both froze. It hadn’t been painful, but there was no way he couldn’t have felt the vicious swollen welts.
Her breathing quickened as she opened her eyes to look down at him and found his eyes staring into hers.
“Tis nothing.”
“Let me see.”
‘No!” She tried to push away, but he clasped her rear tighter. She stiffened. “Let me go.”
“Is it a rash?”
She could feel him exploring. It hurt. “Stop that!”
“They feel like welts.” He stopped touching her, his hands pulling away. Even as she pushed away from him, she was mourning the loss of contact.
“Lucy cannot tolerate certain soaps. She breaks out in large hives all over her skin. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
“I am not ashamed,” Maddie said angrily.
His brow furrowed. He was staring so intently at her, so she turned away.
Abruptly he grabbed her, tossing her skirts up in the back. She twisted in his hold.
“You’ll make them bleed!” She cried.
“Bleed? Maddie, you need a doctor if it’s that bad.”
“I don’t
. Mrs. Moss tended to me last night.”
“These occurred last night? When? After the dinner?”
Maddie covered her face with her hands. The lying was too much. She hated lying, especially to him.
“It’s not…it’s not what you think.”
“As your future husband, I should know what causes your skin to react like this.”
“It isn’t a reaction—well, not the way you mean it.”
He frowned again. “I’m not following.”
“It won’t happen after we’re married, I can promise you that.”
His stare hardened. “Show me.”
“That wouldn’t be proper.” She shuffled further back.
“Maddie, I can still taste you on my tongue. It doesn’t get much more improper than that.”
“I don’t want you to see.”
“You don’t want me to see that someone gave you those welts, is that it?” He moved closer to her slowly and took her hand. “You don’t want me, the man you asked to marry you, to rescue you from all this to see what they are doing to you? Why would you keep this from me?”
Maddie closed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter.” His hand touched her cheek.
“It does to me.”
“You’ll be angry.”
“Look at me.”
Maddie opened her eyes. He was right before her now, filling her vision.
“I won’t be angry at you. I’ll be angry at them.”
“But what will you do? If you make a scene, it will only make things harder.”
“I won’t make a scene. I promise you that.”
Maddie took a deep breath and turned to the side. “Be quick about it.”
He looked below to make sure they were still very much alone. He eased up the back of her dress carefully. She heard him suck in a breath and then gently lower her skirts.
“Who did this?”
His voice was so low and dark it scared her. “Jonathan…”
“Maddie, tell me or I will go find out for myself.”
“It was my father and my brother,” she confessed.
“They’ve done this before?” he asked
“Not my brother. I guess it was a special evening for him as well,” she quipped. She looked up at him. His expression said everything he didn’t want to say. He was angry, he wanted to avenge her, and he wanted to hurt them as they had hurt her.
“You mustn’t do anything.”
“How can you expect me to do nothing?”
“You cannot court me if my family and I have to leave the party.”
“This…” He turned away and stood, hunching over to avoid the low roof. He ran his fingers through his hair. “This cannot go on.”
“What would you have us do?” Maddie shifted in the hay until she sat on her hip. “Elope? Marry over the anvil?”
He stopped pacing. “I don’t want to.”
“It would solve all our problems.”
Maddie saw him grimace. She waited while he seemed to lose himself in thought. Why wouldn’t he want to elope?
He turned to her. “We’re not cowards, Maddie. We won’t elope. We will see our plan through.”
“I wouldn’t consider eloping cowardly,” Maddie mumbled.
“Couples elope because they have to, because they are running from something. We’re not going to run. We’re going to fight.”
Maddie wished she had his courageous spirit, but at the moment, running and hiding suited her just fine. She’d been fighting her whole life, but if she learned anything at all, she learned that fighting never brought peace. She wanted peace desperately. She wanted to not fight anymore. She released a beleaguered sigh.
He crouched before her and took her hand. “I can see you’re not enamored of the idea.”
“I’m tired of fighting.”
“You want to give up?”
“No.” She sighed again. She felt weary now and wished for her soft bed.
“You don’t have to fight anymore, Maddie. I will fight for you. I’m your champion, remember? I’ve come to slay your dragons.”
That made her smile. “Then what am I to do?”
“Let me slay them,” he pressed.
Maddie cupped his cheek. “You cannot slay this dragon yet.”
“I know. But I will soon. Trust me, Maddie. That is all you have to do.”
“I’ve never trusted anyone before.”
“Can you trust me?” he begged.
She looked deep into his eyes and saw all his earnest intentions, his valiant courage, and his willingness to fight for her. She nodded, “I think I can.”
He grinned and swooped down to kiss her quickly. “Good. Now, I’ve got to get ready for the joust. I know I can slay at least one of your dragons today.”
“Which dragon is that?” Maddie asked.
“Lord Berett. I’m going to beat him in the joust.”
“I cannot wait to see that.” Maddie waited as he climbed down first and aided her descent. “I’m going to watch from the hill,” she told him.
“May I have a token to wear into battle, my fair maiden?” He got down on one knee.
Maddie bit her lip then bent to rip the lace hem of her chemise. “Here.”
“A most intimate token. I shall wear it close to my heart.” He stood and grinned.
Maddie returned his smile. She had butterflies in her stomach and chest. She never imagined she’d have her very own knight, a champion, fighting for her heart. She blushed. There was a ridiculous amount of sentiment in that thought. Their hearts were not involved, only their baser natures and their desires to be free of their burdens. It still felt lovely, though.
Chapter 12
The crowd roared, the sound was muted by his helmet but was still almost deafening. Louder still, his heartbeat reverberated in his ears and inside his chest. It raced in time with the hooves of the horse, closer they moved, but in his mind, it was almost slow. This was the moment he’d been waiting for, this feeling, this delirious rush of purpose and destiny. He would never be the same after today. His target barreled toward him, as did his future. This was the final battle.
Wood splintered, metal groaned and whined as bodies were thrown and twisted in the aftermath of the strike, Jonathan blinked, vaguely aware he still sat on his horse, but his opponent, a blur as he charged by, was in the air.
He was flying—no—he was falling.
Victory screamed inside him. He reined his horse to a stop, the crowd cheering and jumping. Phillip, Davey, and Banks ran from the side, whooping like young boys, grinning and hollering like mad men. Jonathan swayed drunkenly. The men pulled him from the horse and pulled off his helmet.
“You did it!” Banks cheered.
“You knocked that bloody sod to his back!” Davey shouted.
Jonathan was smiling as they jostled him about.
He looked around the lists and absorbed the cheering of the crowd. Then he looked in the direction of his prey, his defeated dragon, and felt a bit of panic.
He wasn’t moving.
A growing crowd was gathering around him, including the doctor.
“You killed him.” Phillip gasped.
“He killed himself. Any sane man his age would no better than to joust,” Davey muttered.
Jonathan watched and held his breath when they removed Lord Berett’s helmet. Dr. Sweeney now blocked his view, and the crowd had grown silent. The doctor moved, and Lord Berett was pulled into a sitting position. Jonathan took a deep breath with relief. The elderly lord was alive. He was batting away the hands of the servants as they tried to remove his armor.
“Thank God,” Jonathan muttered.
Banks helped him to the side to remove his armor. Wearing it was a task of its own. His limbs felt like they were stuck in sand every time he moved. He nodded in thanks to the swarm of well-wishers that gathered around to congratulate him. All he really wanted to do was jump into a cold stream. He could feel his shirt clinging to his skin under the padding, and drops
of sweat continuously rolled down his forehead. He took a towel from Davey and wiped his face.
“I don’t think my heart has ever raced so fast,” Jonathan admitted. “I feel intoxicated.”
“Victory is intoxicating. Especially when it’s won over such an opponent,” Davey said.
“What do you mean?” Banks asked.
“It’s glaringly clear Rigsby is competing for the hand of Miss Prescott. Miss Worthington has kept me apprised of all the gossip. Lord Berett has an understanding with her father, but Rigsby seeks to steal her away.”
“I’m not stealing her,” Rigsby scowled.
“I’m not judging, well, I am, but not for the reasons you suspect.” Davey smirked. “I don’t know why you want her in the first place, other than her tempting body—”
Jonathan grabbed Davey by his cravat. “Dare to say that again?”
Davey put his hands up. “My apologies. It’s clear as a betrothed man, I have failed to see her abundance of qualities.”
Jonathan let go. “So you have.”
Davey stepped back. “I support your efforts—that was my point.”
“Thank you.” Jonathan relaxed somewhat.
He felt buoyant now that he was out of his armor. He walked back toward the stable with the three men trailing him. He didn’t want to face the crowd anymore. He was elated to have won, but that moment of uncertainty, the moment he thought for the briefest second he had killed Lord Berett, soured his stomach.
He wanted silence and solitude, and he desperately wanted a tepid bath. He thanked Davey, Phillip, and Banks for their assistance in the lists and returned to his room.
As he sank into the tub, a great weariness washing over him, his muscles and joints, limber and warm only moments ago beginning to stiffen and bemoan their abuse. Perhaps he was too old to be jousting, as well? He closed his eyes in the tub and heard Camden leave the room.
* * *
Refreshed, but more bruised than he cared to admit, he entered the drawing room hours later. He was not yet tournament champion, but the way everyone gathered around him with endless congratulations and exclamations, he thought maybe he had defeated a dragon, or rather, Lord Berett was not liked among the party. He didn’t see Maddie, and he wasn’t surprised, but he did see her father and her brother, heads bent together in the corner of the room.
