“You deserve someone better,” he told her.
“You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself,” she replied.
“What? Why would you say that?”
Charlotte made herself comfortable on the bench. “Ever since you arrived in Framlingham, you have been pitying yourself because of your leg, and because you aren’t a knight or a noble or have a lot of money.”
“Don’t those things bother you?”
“Nay, not at all. The only thing that bothers me is the fact you haven’t told me yet if you want to marry me.”
“Charlotte.” He dragged a weary hand through his hair and sat down next to her with a plunk atop the bench. “Don’t you see? I can’t marry you before I know who I am.”
She looked at him oddly. “You are Alexander Masterson, son of Crandell.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Well, what do you mean?”
“It doesn’t matter. Come here,” he said, placing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer.
“When I’m with you, it feels right,” said Charlotte, laying her head against his shoulder.
“I know.” His gently rubbed his hands up and down her arm, causing a tingling sensation to spiral through her. “It does feel right,” he admitted. “I guess I haven’t asked you to marry me yet because I don’t know if you’ll change your mind about me in the future.”
“Why would you say that?”
“You are the only woman I’ve ever known who has accepted me just the way I am.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the way you are.”
“I wish I could believe that. I’ve been challenged ever since the day I was born. All I ever wanted was to be normal and to, someday, find a lady to love and marry.”
“And you have.” She reached up and turned his face toward her, gently pressing her lips up against his. That heady feeling was back again, as well as the heat and excitement that went with it. “If you are going to insist on sleeping in the hay, then I will stay here with you tonight.”
“Nay.” He pulled away as if the idea upset him.
“Why not?”
“You are a lady. You need to sleep in a bed and have handmaids serving you. You can’t stay out here, Charlotte.”
“Then let’s just lay down for a few minutes in the hay together and hold each other. That’s all I ask.”
“If I do that, I’ll want to make love to you.”
The thought sent a feeling of lust right through her. “I’d like that,” she said, wanting it more than anything.
“Charlotte, it has been a while since I’ve laid with a woman.”
“Not as long as it’s been since I laid with a man. Seven years in the convent didn’t give me a lot of opportunities.”
They both laughed at that, breaking the tension of the moment. Then he pulled her up against him, kissing her more passionately than just a simple kiss.
“There’s no mistletoe here,” she teased him.
“Thank goodness, because God help us if there was. Charlotte I want you very badly, but I don’t know if it’s right.”
“What’s not right about it?” she asked with a giggle. “You won’t be taking my virginity since I’ve already been married.”
“True,” he said, reaching out and touching her lightly on the nose. “I guess I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
“You could never disappoint me, Alex. Now, are we going to make love before we freeze to death out here or not?”
He stood up and extended his arm, pulling her to a standing position. “If you really want to, who am I to stop you? After all, you seem to be a woman who doesn’t like to be told no.”
“You’ve got that right,” she said, reaching up and kissing him again. “I’ve never done it in a stable or in the hay before, Alex. It’s rather . . . exciting.”
“I won’t let you lie in a stall that a horse might have sullied. We’re going to go somewhere where there is virgin hay.” He collected the lantern off the hook and led her through the stable.
“Where are we going?” she asked, holding on to him so she wouldn’t fall in the dark.
“Up there.” He held up the lantern and nodded to a loft filled with fresh hay.
“Up there?” she asked, wondering if he could even climb the ladder with his bad leg. “Mayhap it would be better if we stayed down here.”
He reached out and turned her face to look directly into his eyes. “I can do it,” he said in a low voice. “Or don’t you believe I am even capable of climbing a simple ladder?”
Suddenly, she realized that she was the one pitying him instead of the other way around. She nodded. “I do believe that you can do anything you put your mind to, Alexander Masterson. Now, what on earth are we waiting for?”
Charlotte climbed the ladder, purposely going slow to give Alex time to ascend and not rush it. He made it up the ladder with little trouble and hung the lantern on a hook and pulled her back into his arms.
“Charlotte, once we do this, it can’t be undone. I still can’t ask you to marry me yet. But mayhap – mayhap, by tomorrow, I’ll have the answer I need to be able to plan the rest of my life.”
“Alex, I don’t care.” She reached up and kissed him and started to unbuckle his weapon belt. “Even if you decide you don’t want me for your wife, I will never regret our intimate time together, and neither will I ever forget it.”
“What did I do to deserve someone as special as you?”
“Just being you is reason enough. Now, I suggest we hurry before anyone comes and before we freeze out here.”
“I agree.”
Alex quickly removed his clothing and helped Charlotte do the same. Her skin was like silk and as pale as porcelain. He pulled her into his arms and their bodies pressed up against each other. They kissed, and he gently caressed her shoulders, letting his hands slide down her chest, cupping her perfectly rounded breasts.
“That feels so good,” she said, throwing back her head as he kissed her neck and then suckled her taut nipples. His manhood hardened and grew in size. It had been a long time since he’d laid with a woman. And when he had coupled, it had always been with whores. He wasn’t even sure he could please Charlotte since he was the one always being pleased in the past.
“Wait,” he said, releasing her only for a minute to throw down his cloak. He helped her lie down, watching as the light from the lantern played off her skin, making her look like an angel.
“It’s cold,” she whispered. “Come warm me, Alex.”
He reached up and turned off the lantern, then grabbed her cloak and used it to cover them as they lay in the hay. There was a small, open window in the hayloft and streams of moonlight filtered in and bathed them in the magic that was only found in dreams.
He kissed her gently. Then, not being able to hold back much longer, he tried to ready her as much as possible before he slid atop her and spread her legs. His breathing labored, and his heart thumped loudly, resounding in his ears.
“Charlotte, are you sure about this?” he asked before he entered her.
“I’m surer about this than I’ve been with anything in my entire life.”
He entered her slowly, being careful not to hurt her, sliding in and out, helping her to find the rhythm. It felt so good that he wanted to scream out. Instead, he bit his tongue and remained silent. The heat intensified between them. And when he heard her moan in desire beneath him, it about drove him mad. He broke the connection only to lie next to her and pull her atop him.
“You want me on top?” she asked, since it wasn’t common for a man to let the woman be the aggressor in bed. He did it out of respect because a woman like Charlotte demanded respect without even knowing it.
“It’s my leg,” he lied when he didn’t think she would do it. “It was cramping up.”
“Oh. All right then. Although I’m not sure I know what to do.”
“Just do what comes natural, because nothing you do could ever be wro
ng.”
They made love, and he stifled his cry of passion as he spilled his seed within her. Then the words slipped from his lips that he didn’t think he’d ever say to any woman.
“I love you, Charlotte,” he said, running a hand over her head to push back a stray lock of hair. She collapsed next to him. They both tried to steady their breathing. He pushed the cloak off of them, reveling in the feel of the cool air against his body that felt as if it were on fire. “Who needs that cloak? I’m hotter than hell right now.”
“Me, too,” she laughed. “And in case you didn’t realize what you said, you just told me you loved me.”
“And I meant it, too,” he said, pulling her closer, running his fingertips lightly against her cheek. “I wanted to wait to find out some information before I even considered this, but I cannot wait a minute longer. Charlotte, will you marry me and be my wife?”
“What?” She sat up with a smile on her face, staring down at him. The moonlight bathed her perfect breasts in a milky white glow. Her nipples were still erect. He wasn’t sure if it was from him or the cold, but it didn’t matter. It only excited him all over again. “Alex, I have to be honest and tell you that there is a chance I am barren.”
“I don’t care,” he told her. “I want you just the way you are.”
In the moonlight, he saw a smile part her lips before she answered. “Yes, I will marry you,” she told him. “You have made me so happy. I can’t wait to be the wife of Alexander Masterson.”
Alex suddenly wondered what would happen if she found out she was marrying someone else instead. Aye, it was very possible that, come the morning, she might be marrying Lord Peter Mowbray instead.
Chapter 9
“Where have you been?” whispered Dominick as Alex approached the gravesite of Lady Summer’s stillborn.
“I fell asleep,” Alex told him, grabbing one of the shovels from him and limping over to the grave. He didn’t want to sully Lady Charlotte’s image by letting Dominick know why he was really late.
“I’ve had the hot coals atop the ground for a while now, and I think it’ll be thawed enough to dig down to the casket, hopefully.”
“All right,” said Alex, taking the spade and holding it to the ground. But a knot formed in his stomach and he couldn’t bring himself to dig into the earth. Lady Summer visited this grave every day and brought flowers and boughs of greens as offerings to the son she birthed and lost. Alex glanced over at the cross and the board that held the engraved name of Peter Mowbray. Digging here would give him his answer, but suddenly he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. “I can’t do it.” He stood up straight, holding the end of the shovel.
“Why not? Don’t you want to know the truth?” asked Dominick.
“I am not sure anymore. Mayhap, it doesn’t even matter.”
“Well, it matters to me,” came a woman’s voice from behind him.
The men spun around to see Lady Summer holding a lantern, standing there with her husband, Warren. In Warren’s hands were two shovels. With them was Charlotte, entirely dressed and holding a lit lantern as well.
“Mother?” asked Dominick. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night? And with shovels?”
“We could ask you two the same thing,” said Warren with a yawn. “Your mother woke me up out of a sound sleep and wouldn’t leave me be until I brought her out here. We found Lady Charlotte sneaking out of the stable and she told us she saw you leaving and heading to the garden.”
“I’m sorry, Alex, but I was worried about you and didn’t know what you were doing,” said Charlotte.
“It’s all right, Charlotte.” Alex threw the shovel to the ground. “Nothing is happening. Although I came here tonight with plans to dig up the grave, I’ve changed my mind. I cannot do it.”
“You were going to dig up the baby?” gasped Charlotte.
“I was going to help him,” added Dominick.
“Why would you do such a thing?” she asked.
“Because they had the same question in their minds that I did,” said Summer. “Warren, hand me a shovel please.”
“Mother! You’re not planning on digging up your dead baby, are you?” gasped Dominick.
“Not alone. You three are helping me,” said Summer.
“Lady Summer, forgive me, but I don’t understand why you would do such a horrifying thing,” said Charlotte. The wind picked up, and Charlotte’s teeth started to chatter.
“Ever since Alex arrived, I’ve felt close to him, but I didn’t know why,” said Summer. “And when I heard he was the son of Crandell and saw his bad leg, I couldn’t stop wondering if, perhaps, Alex was somehow my son, Peter.” She reached out and took Alex’s hand, holding the lantern up to look at the signet ring on his finger. “This ring,” she said. “Where did you get it?”
“From my father,” explained Alex. “It was his signet ring with the monogram of our surname on it.”
“Nay,” said Summer. “I recognize it as my late husband’s ring. The M stands for Mowbray, not Masterson.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, starting to remove it. “I had no idea that my father stole it.”
“Nay, keep it. It actually might be your father’s ring – your real father that is, if you are Peter Mowbray.”
“But I thought Peter was stillborn,” said Charlotte, not understanding any of this.
“We all thought that,” said Warren.
“My father – Crandell told me on his deathbed that Peter Mowbray did not die,” explained Alex. “I don’t know if it’s the truth, Lady Summer, but he told me when he went to bury your baby and discovered it still alive, he kept it for himself.”
“That bastard,” growled Warren. “He was deceitful in more ways than one.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Alex.
“Warren, please,” said Summer, touching her husband’s arm. “We all want to know if this story is true, and there is only one way to find out. Now start digging.”
“But Mother, you shouldn’t be here,” said Dominick. “If we find Peter’s bones, it is going to be too hard for you to handle.”
“On the contrary, I need closure,” said Summer. “I never saw my baby being put in the ground because I was too weak after the birth to get out of bed. I need to see for myself if Peter is there –” She pointed to the ground. “Or there –” she said, pointing at Alex. “And I hope against all the odds the latter is true because I would be proud if you were my son, Alex.”
Lady Summer’s words melted Alex’s heart and almost made him cry. “Aye. We need to know,” he said, taking his shovel and being the first one to break the ground.
Charlotte watched as the three men and even Summer dug up the grave of Peter Mowbray. She held her breath when Alex’s shovel clunked off of a hard object in the ground.
“It’s here,” said Alex, keeping his eyes focused on the grave. Charlotte brought her lantern closer and held it over the hole. There, in the ground, was a small wooden box, just the size that would be used for a newborn.
“Step aside, Summer,” said Warren, reaching down and pulling the casket from the earth. He placed it atop the snow-covered ground and used his shovel to break the lock that held it closed.
“Warren, hold me,” said Summer, reaching out for her husband. “I feel as if I’m going to swoon.”
Warren stepped back and held his wife. They all stood there in the dark, by the light of just a few lanterns and the moon, staring at what might be the final resting place of Peter Mowbray.
“Who is going to open the box?” whispered Dominick, as if he were afraid to say it aloud.
“I will,” said Warren, moving forward, but Summer held him back.
“Nay, Husband. It should be me who does this.” She stepped forward and reached out for the casket with shaking hands.
“Nay. No mother should ever have to open the casket of her child.” Alex limped forward and took Summer’s hand off the wooden box. “Please, let me do it.”
“Are you sure?” asked Summer. The air grew tense.
“God’s eyes, someone do it before we all freeze to death out here,” complained Warren. He wore a cloak over his night tunic, pulling it closer around him. “I’ve never ended up in a graveyard in the middle of the night in winter before even on one of my sleepwalking escapades.”
“Sleepwalking?” asked Charlotte, curious as to what that meant.
“Don’t ask,” said Warren, “because you don’t want to know.”
“May I, Lady Summer?” asked Alex, being ever so polite.
“Please do,” she said with a nod of her head, clinging to her husband’s arm.
Alex reached out with trembling hands. “I have to admit, I fear what I might find in the box. And then I also fear what I might not find. But either way, I can’t live like this anymore. One way or another, tonight I will finally have my answer.”
“And so will I,” said Lady Summer.
“All right. I’m going to open it now,” he said, reaching out but then pulling his hands back and shaking his head.
“Do it,” Dominick urged him.
“Go ahead, Alex.” Charlotte nodded.
Once again, he reached out, and this time his fingers closed around the edges of the lid. But from years of being in the ground, the box was stuck shut. “It won’t open,” said Alex.
“Perhaps if we both try, we can do it,” suggested Summer.
“Stand back,” said Warren, having no patience for this. He used his shovel to pry open the lid and then stood back and held out his arm to Alex. “Go ahead,” he said with a nod.
Alex took hold of the lid and lifted it upward, but stopped midway. Charlotte could see the indecision on his face.
“Let me help you,” said Charlotte, stepping forward and putting her hands on the lid as well.
“And me,” said Summer, doing the same.
“Don’t leave me out,” added Dominick, bending down as well.
“I’m already in my nightclothes. I’m not getting down in the dirt so count me out,” complained Warren. “Now do it, or I swear I’ll push you all out of the way and flip the box over with my foot.”
Silent Knight: Second in Command Series - Alexander Page 6
