England's Greatest Knights: A Medieval Romance Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  He went running for the keep.

  *

  It was soft and dark and quiet in the stables as Brogan pinned Avalyn against the stable wall. His mouth worked her furiously, against her mouth, her jaw, her neck. His passion was almost frenzied, having been denied the woman so long and being unsure of their future; his tenderness knew a hint of roughness. But Avalyn didn’t care; she, too, felt the frenzy and the passion as much as he did. It had been pent up since the day they had met. All she knew was that she wanted the man, in spirit and soul and body, and she had to have him or die.

  The straw beneath them was clean and dry. Brogan lay her down on her cloak, untying the fastens as his lips suckled her neck and collarbone. When the ties fell away, she was in a yellow brocade with a plunging neckline and he took advantage of the exposed white swell of her breasts. The rabbit fur got in his nose, however, and he sneezed more than once. Avalyn laughed softly, as did he. But it did not stop him. Pulling Avalyn tight against his hard chest, his fingers went to work on the laced stays that held her surcoat in place.

  Avalyn would not wait to be disrobed. She helped him. In between removing her surcoat, she unlaced the stays on his tunic and pulled it over his head. She paused a moment in the weak light, studying his magnificent torso for a moment; his muscles were bulky and defined, the tanned skin covered with a matting of soft dark hair. She ran her fingers over his chest lightly, acquainting herself with it, feeling him shudder when she drew a finger over a dark puckered nipple.

  He captured her mouth in his again, his tongue pushing sensually into her pink recesses. Now that her surcoat was off, he went to work on the corset, leaving her only in her shift and pantalets. His massive hand fondled her round breast through the soft wool, feeling her nipple harden against his palm. When he could take no more, he tore her shift from her shoulder with a growl, exposing her left breast. His mouth hungrily descended on it.

  Avalyn gasped softly, feeling his wet heat on her nipple. Soon her other breast was exposed and he suckled her madly. Before long, the shift was pulled off completely and she lay nude beneath him. Quickly, Brogan lowered his hose, rubbing his enormous erection against her thigh.

  Avalyn felt his hardness, torn between lust and curiosity and apprehension. She loved the man, she was determined to be his wife, and she saw no wrong with what they were about to do. She wanted it as badly as he did. As his mouth moved across her chest again, he shifted and settled between her slender legs. Avalyn lifted her knees, accommodating his bulk, excitement and apprehension running side by side in her mind.

  His fingers moved down her belly to the dark curls between her legs. She started unsteadily at first, but his kisses soothed her as his fingers stroked the moist, tender folds. When he felt her relax, he slipped a finger into her wet heat and listened to her soft grunts of pleasure, of anxiety. His lips claimed her mouth again.

  “I love you more than my life,” he murmured against her. “You must always remember that.”

  She opened her eyes, gazing into his dark blue orbs. There was such warmth and passion there. As they lost themselves in the tenderness of the gaze, Brogan slid his manhood into her waiting body.

  She was wet and hot and slick. As she gasped with surprise, he slanted his mouth over hers again and continued his steady thrust. One more thrust saw him seated to the hilt, ridding her of her virginity and claiming her completely. Avalyn groaned and gasped, but her discomfort was momentary. She had never in her life felt more close to someone, or so completely whole. He filled her like nothing she had ever known to exist. It was a magical moment for them both.

  Brogan gave her a moment to become accustomed to his body embedded within her. When his thrusts began, they were gentle and slow. Avalyn moved with him, relishing the new sensations, feeling his hands upon her and his body within her. She’d never felt so womanly, so loved. When his thrusts increased, a spark started in her loins that grew in intensity. Brogan’s hot, rapid breath in her ear only seemed to increase the sensation. His hands were on her breasts, in her hair, snaking around her back and holding her close. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him fast as the pace quickened.

  She could feel him grinding his pelvis against her Venus Mound, every contact bringing a shock of sensation. His mouth was on her lips again, suckling her, and she suddenly felt a burst of sensation from within her groin. It was enough to bring a loud gasp to her lips, one of pure pleasure and exhilaration. Brogan swallowed up her cries in his mouth, giving one last, hard thrust, his entire body shuddering. Still, he continued to move, not wanting the magic to fade but knowing it must. His kisses softened until they stopped completely. When Avalyn opened her eyes, he was gazing softly at her.

  “Did I hurt you?” he whispered.

  She shook her head. “Not at all.” She touched his cheek, watching him kiss her palm as it moved by his mouth. “You consume me, Brogan. I wish I could tell you everything that is in my heart, everything that I am feeling.”

  He smiled faintly. “If it is anything close to what I am feeling, then I understand it well. I never truly loved a woman until I met you, Avalyn. Now I understand why life is worth living.”

  They exchanged smiles, touches. The straw poked at her back but Avalyn did not want to move. She wished she could stay with him, like this, forever. But the reality was that they must leave, and quickly. The longer they stayed, the more chance there was for discovery. She tilted her head up and kissed him.

  “I love you, my darling,” she murmured. “But we must get dressed.”

  He sighed heavily. “I know.”

  “Up, then, my love. Quickly.”

  He gave her one last, final squeeze before releasing her. In the darkness, they dressed, Brogan’s hands lingering on her as he helped her with her stays. He couldn’t stop touching her, and more than once, they fell into a passionate kiss. Avalyn wanted to run from the gates that very moment and never look back, but she knew that Brogan had to take care of St. Alban and The Sirens. She was anxious to help them, too.

  “I shall send the girls down to you shortly,” she said. “There is a servant’s gate in the wall near the kitchens. That would probably be the best place to leave unnoticed. Will you have St. Alban waiting to escort them?”

  He nodded, securing the last tie on his tunic. “I will make sure he is there,” he said. “However, it will be more difficult for me to leave with my charger. I believe you should go with the Sirens so that St. Alban can take all of you from the servant’s gates. It would be a lot easier than trying to spirit you out through the main gates with me.”

  She nodded in agreement. “That is a wise suggestion. Where will we meet up?”

  He was moving out of the stall, making sure they were still alone. “I will arrange a rendezvous point outside of the fortress with St. Alban. Then we ride for St. Helen to collect Lake.”

  “And then freedom.”

  He sighed, his gaze lingering on her. He could hardly believe their plans were finally coming to fruition. There was a good deal of excitement and apprehension in his belly, but it was nothing compared to his utter adoration of Avalyn. He would have escaped through Hell simply for a chance to be near her.

  “Freedom,” he said softly, taking her in his arms again. “I shall escort you back to the keep. There is nothing strange about us being seen together. I will say that I ran into you in the stables when I was checking on my horse and you were tending your colt.”

  She nodded. “And, being a chivalrous knight, you would not let me walk unescorted.”

  “Exactly.”

  He kissed her one last time, sweetly, before letting her go. “Ready?”

  She squared her shoulders. “Ready.”

  They made it out of the stable without incident. The moon overhead was a sliver, casting little light on the stable yards as they casually passed through. The moment they entered the main bailey, however, there was a loud noise and Brogan suddenly ended up in a heap at her feet. Shocked, Avalyn looked up t
o see Barton with the butt-end of a mace in his hand. He had clobbered Brogan on the head with it. Horrified, her gaze moved beyond St. John to see Charles standing several feet behind him with a group of soldiers. The ghostly moonglow illuminated his chubby features; even in the dimness she could see that Aubrey did not look pleased.

  “Tie him up.”

  Then, someone grabbed Avalyn.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Where is William?”

  The question came as half-demand, half-plea. Avalyn wasn’t sure she should make demands at all given the circumstances, but she wasn’t going to let Charles assert his dominance over her, either. Even with St. John in the room, fuming quietly in the corner and shooting hateful glares in her direction. Suddenly, the sunny solar that she had adopted as her own had taken on a black, ugly ambience. It wasn’t a comforting place any longer. For almost two days, it had been the place of her sorrow and her captivity.

  “As I have said to you innumerable times, my lady, I will be asking the questions at this time.”

  Charles was angry; that much was certain. But more than that, he was embarrassed and hurt. Embarrassed that he had been made a fool of and hurt that Avalyn had deceived him. He had tried so hard to be kind to her, to show her what kind of man he was. She had responded by betraying him. He paced back and forth across the wide-slat wooden floor, his expression worn and weary.

  “I would ask that you kindly answer my question,” Avalyn said. She was exhausted and frightened. She was terrified they had done something horrible to William, as she’d not seen him since the night she and Brogan were discovered. “Just tell me where he is. I’ll not ask that he be brought to me, but I want to know where he is. Please.”

  Charles was exhausted, too. This was turmoil he wasn’t used to and didn’t need, though in truth, he wasn’t particularly surprised. The lady had made her very strong feelings for d’Aurilliac clear, though Charles had hoped beyond hope that the past few weeks would have seen that infatuation dissolved. But he should have guessed that it would not be the last he heard of the man. Maybe he had been the one deceiving himself all along, not the lady. She’d never been less than truthful about her feelings for another. Fat jaw ticking with frustration, he looked at her.

  “If I tell you where he is, will you tell me what is truly going on?” It sounded strangely like a plea. “I have been asking you for two days to be truthful with me and you’ve yet to tell me what I wish to know. I have a right to know what has happened, my lady. I have every right in the world.”

  Avalyn gazed up at him, her golden eyes dull. So far, they had not made the connection with The Sirens yet, but Brogan and St. Alban were in the vault. The women were still free as far as she knew. She intended to keep it that way, for their sakes.

  She still did not know how Charles had come to discover Brogan’s identity; he’d not said. But the fact remained that he did know. Perhaps she needed to be truthful with him and hope that he would show mercy. Certainly, they could not keep up this stalemate much longer. Moreover, she knew that she was in the wrong; she had chosen to mislead him. She had allowed Brogan to infiltrate his knight corp with the intention of stealing her away. She’d known all along that Charles was a decent man and had been prone to moments of great guilt for her actions. Gazing into his face, her pity for him made a weak resurgence.

  “I will tell you what you wish to know,” she finally sighed, lowering her gaze. “Just tell me where William is.”

  Charles watched her lowered head, feeling a strange tug of compassion. He wasn’t a strong-willed man as it was, and Avalyn seemed to bring out his weaknesses, mostly because he wanted to please her so much. Even now, after her betrayal, he still did not want to see her unhappy.

  “He’s in the vault,” he said.

  Her head shot up, eyes flashing. “What? Why is he there?”

  Charles lifted his eyebrows. “He knew d’Aurilliac on sight. He knew that Gervaise was not who he said he was. He knew, my lady, and he did not tell me. His action cannot go unpunished.”

  She flushed a dull red. “How do you know that? William is a knight. He does not involve himself with the common soldier.”

  “He told us, my lady.”

  Avalyn closed her eyes tightly, lowering her head. He confessed! Damn him; why did he do it? But she knew the answer even as she asked it. William was an honorable man. He must have been asked a direct question and could not lie. She needed to see him, if only to apologize for pulling him into something horrible. He had lied for her and now he was in the vault for it.

  “It is not his fault, my lord,” she said softly, raising her head to look at him. There were tears in her eyes. “He did as I ordered. He was following my directive. You do not need to keep him in the vault.”

  Charles gazed at her, his expression fairly neutral. After a moment, he pulled up the nearest stool he could find, a small three-legged thing by the hearth. He sat several feet away from her, his small brown eyes beseeching.

  “Tell me everything and I will consider releasing him,” he said, that strange pleading tone in his voice again. “Was this planned all along? Is this something that has been simmering ever since you and I left London for Guerdley Cross?”

  Avalyn blinked away the tears that were threatening. “Yes and no,” she sniffed. “Brogan was going to come for me, but I did not find out later just how he planned to do it.”

  “And Inglesbatch came to help him?”

  “William came to help me.” She suddenly stood up, her face pale and her hands shaking. “Charles, you once told me that you loved a woman so much that you wanted to marry her. If that is true, then surely you understand my feelings for Brogan. What we did, we did for love. We did not do it to shame you, or hurt you, or cause you to be the source of ridicule. We did it because we love each other and would do anything to be together. If you loved your lady as you said you did, then surely you understand how we feel. Would you not do anything to be with her also?”

  Charles was looking up at her, his expression morphing into one of sorrow and, surprisingly, anger. He twisted his fingers in his lap. “She is married. There was never any chance.”

  “But if she was not married, only betrothed, would you not do anything to claim her as your own?”

  He wouldn’t look at her. “It is… impossible.”

  “Nothing is impossible!” Avalyn threw her hands up. “Charles, Brogan is a foot soldier, a lowly fighting man. I come from the most prominent family in England. If anything is impossible, it is even the remotest possibility that Brogan and I could be together. But even stronger than class and social standing are what we feel for each other. When I look at Brogan, I do not see a mere soldier. I see a man of flesh and blood and emotion, and I see so much goodness in him. You must understand that kind of devotion. I would do anything to be with him and I would gladly die in the quest for the opportunity.” She moved towards him, her eyes and voice pleading with him. “Please, Charles, you must understand this. We were not attempting to hurt you. But we must be together.”

  She was standing very close to him; he was having difficulty maintaining his firm stance when she was so openly beseeching him. Avalyn suddenly fell to her knees beside him, her soft hands closing over his big calloused ones.

  “Please, Charles,” the tears were coming now. “Please let me go. Tell my uncle I ran away; there will be no shame on you. But I am begging you… please let me go. Just because you were denied your opportunity at happiness with the woman you loved, do not deny me mine. Let me have what you were unable to. You have this power over my life. Will you not show your benevolence?”

  He continued to gaze back at her, feeling her emotions spilling out onto him. Every tear from her eye was like a small dagger to his heart. “And you could not be happy with me?” he asked softly.

  She smiled weakly. “If I had never loved Brogan, I believe I could. You are a warm and generous man. I would not deliberately hurt you for the world. But I am a selfish woman; I want
my happiness more than I want yours, and for that I am sorry. I pray that you can forgive me.”

  Charles just stared at her, not trusting himself to make any manner of decision. She was begging him and he was in chaos because of it. “Barton?” he spoke to the knight in the corner even though he was looking at the lady. “What do you think?”

  The focus not shifted to the knight. Avalyn looked at Barton, lingering in the shadows; fear crept into her expression, for she knew the man did not like her and she did not blame him. There had always been a strain between them after her uncle’s interrogation episode. Barton’s pale blue eyes gazed at her steadily, his expression emotionless.

  “My opinion is of no matter, my lord,” he said after a moment.

  “It is to me. Tell me.”

  Barton sighed imperceptibly. It was clear that he did not want to speak. “Do you wish for me to be frank, my lord?”

  Charles nodded, his gaze still on Avalyn. Barton pushed himself off the wall, walking towards the pair very slowly. He was still looking at Avalyn, the glittering eyes calculating a thousand ways to condemn her.

  “I believe the lady is very good at manipulating you, my lord,” he said. “I believe she is very good at manipulating all of the men around her. She excels at this. She is, after all, a de Neville and it is well known that the de Nevilles control their surroundings.” He came to a halt, his eyes boring into her. “But I also believe that people do strange things where emotions are involved, and I think her devotion to d’Aurilliac is admirable. Futile, but admirable.”

  Avalyn had averted her gaze somewhere in the middle of his speech. She couldn’t look at the man.

  “Everything you say about me is true, Sir Barton,” she agreed softly. “I learned the art of manipulation from my uncle and I learned it well. Do not think that it has been my pleasure to deceive your liege, a man who has only shown kindness to me. Even you; though I suspect you do not have a good deal of respect for my strength of character, you have nonetheless shown me the proper reverence in all matters. You are a man of honor. But understand this; my deception had nothing to do with evil tidings or greed. It was not directed at your liege or at you. I did not seek to destroy anyone. What I did, I did because I love a man. Nothing more, nothing less. We want to be together.”