Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume 1

by Kathryn Le Veque

  His thrusts became stronger, faster, as delicious friction built. Kellington’s arms were around his neck and she held on tightly, moving with him, feeling the new sensations consume her. His flesh against her, his power in her, around her, consumed every thought. Whatever maiden’s fear she had felt was gone; there hadn’t even been any pain when he had finally entered her. All she had felt was an intimate fullness, a satisfaction, that had been difficult to comprehend. All she knew was that Jax had taken control of her heart, her body, and she willingly gave it. Even now, as he held her tightly and plunged deep into her slick body, she wished it could go on forever. It was a moment like none other.

  One of Jax’s muscular arms unwound itself from her slender torso and he turned slightly so that they were nearly lying on their sides. His fingers found the fluff of curls between her legs again, feeling where their bodies joined, and began to stroke her. Kellington was suddenly lifted to a higher plane of pleasure; within three strokes of his tender finger, her loins exploded with delicious tremors and a scream pealed from her lips. Jax suddenly thrust very hard, a grunt escaping his lips as he spilled deep into her welcoming body. But he did not stop moving; he continued to move, magnifying their pleasure, until there was nothing left but sweat, warmth, and the sounds of their pleasurable gasping.

  Kellington thought she might actually have fainted. From the moment that stars burst before her eyes, she was cognizant of little but heated pleasure. Now she was in the warm, muddled world between consciousness and unconsciousness, feeling Jax’s warm body around her and wallowing in the sensation. She finally opened her eyes when Jax shook her gently.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, nuzzling her cheek. “Did I hurt you?”

  She shook her head, so weak and satisfied that it was nearly impossible to do anything else. “I am fine,” she murmured. “You did not hurt me at all.”

  He stopped nuzzling and looked down at her. She could feel his gaze and she opened her eyes to find the dual-colored orbs staring at her. She smiled weakly.

  “What is it?” she asked, touching his cheek. “Why do you look at me so?”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Because… because never in my life did I imagine I would have something as wonderful as you. It does not seem real.”

  Her smile broadened. “It is real.”

  “I know. But it still seems like a dream.”

  “To me as well.”

  He gathered her up in his arms again, holding her tightly. Gone was the feverish kissing, the passion, the force behind his actions. Now, he simply wanted to hold her.

  Kellington closed his eyes, feeling more safe and comforted than she ever had in her entire life. Never did she think she would experience the love of a man, the tender comfort and scorching passion it would bring. It had been beyond her comprehension. And of all the men she imagined she would marry, the brutal warlord Jax de Velt was not among them.

  If this is a dream, do not let me wake up.

  She slept.

  *

  “Their army is camped about two miles to the west,” Keats said. “They are just sitting there, enjoying the spoils of their thievery, including my daughter. I say that now is the time to strike.”

  Keats, Denedor, de Vesci and Piers Michelson were standing in various positions around the baron’s solar, discussing the best course of action against de Velt’s army. It had been almost two hours since de Velt had left with Kellington, and he and his army had retreated to the west to set up camp. It had been a brittle, confused two hours. Now, the men of Alnwick were gaining steam and formulating a plan. They knew de Velt was coming for them. They would not go down without a fight.

  “I agree with Keats,” Denedor said in a low, calm voice. “They are planning their siege against Alnwick as we speak. De Velt always attacks at sunset, which means we have six hours left at the most. We must attack them now while they are off guard and take the offensive. If we do not, de Velt will destroy this place and we will all be dead by morning.”

  “But de Velt has what he came for,” de Vesci insisted; he had been existing in the realm of fear and denial since de Velt’s army had retreated. “He already took Lady Kellington. Why would he attack Alnwick now? He has no cause.”

  Denedor shook his head. “My lord, mark my words; de Velt will attack, if not for vengeance, then for spite. Why do you think they are still camped out there? Our spies tell us that they are cutting down trees and constructing something, which I can only imagine to be either ladders or a siege tower. He already has two siege engines; we have seen them. I tell you, the man is planning to attack no matter what the lady has promised us.”

  Keats was standing by the lancet window of the solar, his arms folded protectively across his body. “I lived through Pelinom’s siege but I was virtually the only one. I do not believe de Velt’s mercy will hold out a second time.” He turned to look at the men in the room. “He will attack us, of that I have no doubt. We must take the offensive immediately and hit his army while they are out in the open if we have any hope of surviving.”

  Denedor and Keats were of the same mindset. Young, tall and slender Piers would side with his captain. Only de Vesci was the last holdout. He had far more to lose than any of them and was understandably reluctant. He scratched his balding head, thinking of his wife, his two sons and daughter that he must protect.

  “Speaking of spite,” he said, looking pointedly at Denedor. “Your advice to attack could not have anything to do with Lady Kellington, could it?”

  Denedor shrugged. “I intend to reclaim her. I will make it no secret.”

  Keat’s cast a long glance at Denedor before shaking his head. “He’s probably already taken her,” he muttered. “She is the spoils of a murderer.”

  Denedor looked at him. “Nothing that cannot be erased given time.”

  “You are too forgiving.”

  Denedor’s gaze lingered on him, seeing how disgusted and sickened he was by his daughter’s behavior. He leaned into the man and lowered his voice. “You will not touch her, is that clear? Whatever anger or hatred you feel, you will not harm her or I will kill you.”

  Keat’s met his gaze, digesting his statement, before looking away. “I could not harm her,” he said. “She is still my flesh. But what she has done… it is reprehensible.”

  Denedor did not reply; instead, he faced de Vesci. “I would like permission to outfit the men and prepare them for battle. If we are going to move, then we need to do it right away. We cannot delay. I would further suggest you move your family into town and away from the castle until this madness is settled.”

  De Vesci was torn, still trying to deny the obvious but wanting to remove his family to safety at the same time. He knew what Jax de Velt did to prisoners.

  “But you are speaking of attacking de Velt,” he insisted weakly. “You know the man, Denedor. ’Tis lunacy to move against him.”

  “If we do not, then we sit here and wait to die.”

  “But you speak of suicide.”

  “It would be suicide not to act, for the man is coming whether or not we move first. Is that your wish, my lord? That we sit and wait for our deaths?”

  It wasn’t. De Vesci scratched his head, shifted in his seat, all of the signs of an agitated man. He finally looked to Denedor. “If you are very sure about all of this?”

  The knight nodded. “As sure as I can be. May I again ask for permission to mobilize the army?”

  De Vesci sighed heavily, looking to Keats and Piers, before finally nodding his head in defeat. “Very well,” he mumbled, wiping at his forehead as he did so. “But give me a contingent of men to protect my family. Twenty soldiers, I should think.”

  “Ten will be sufficient,” Denedor snapped his fingers to Piers, who immediately quit the solar in his quest to form an escort for the baron. With the young knight clearing the room, Denedor turned back to the baron. “Our spies say that de Velt is spread out in the field that belongs to Edward Rest, a farmer w
ho holds a great deal of land to the west of Alnwick. The field is bordered on the west and north by a forest. If we can create two fronts, one from the east and one from the west, we should be able to catch de Velt by surprise. It is our only hope.”

  De Vesci was resigned to the battle, though clearly still not happy about it. “How many men would you say he has?”

  “At least seven to eight hundred,” Denedor replied. “A sizable force.”

  De Vesci nodded. “And how many do we have at Alnwick?”

  “Nine hundred and forty six.”

  “Then we outnumber him?”

  “Aye, we do, but we are speaking of de Velt mercenaries. They are not ordinary fighting men.”

  “Can we send for reinforcements, then?”

  Denedor cocked a thoughtful eyebrow. “The nearest castle is Edlingham, but she is a small castle and would not hold near the number of reinforcements that we would require. Warkworth is to the south and would carry sufficient numbers, but I suspect we would not see them until tomorrow morning.”

  “What of Bamburgh?”

  “’Tis the same as Warkworth. We would not see any help until the morrow.”

  De Vesci sighed heavily. “How many men could we get from Edlingham?”

  “One hundred at the most.”

  “Then send for them immediately. And also send for reinforcements from Warkworth and Bamburgh. Even if they do not arrive until morning, perhaps we can hold out with what we have until they come.”

  “We cannot wait for any of them to arrive,” Denedor pointed out. “We must strike without them and strike now.”

  De Vesci could not disagree. Denedor sent one soldier on the run to Edlingham, two others to Warkworth and Bamburgh respectively, before returning to the solar to find de Vesci and Keats well into their third cup of wine. Each man had his different reason for drinking to the point of drunkenness as a way of easing their guilt and fears, but Denedor could not allow himself that luxury. He was about to take on Jax de Velt and he would need every faculty he possessed.

  Leaving Keats and the baron to their wine, he went to speak to his men. He seriously wondered how many he would have left alive come the dawn.

  *

  Kellington awoke to Jax rising from the rug they were lying on. Wrapped in his massive arms, she had been warm and safe and comfortable. His movement left her feeling alone and she blinked the sleep from her eyes, pushing the stray hair from her face.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  He smiled at her. “I was trying not to wake you,” he said, securing his breeches. “As much as I would love to lounge with you all day, there are a few tasks that require my attention. Go back to sleep if it pleases you.”

  It took Kellington a moment to realize she was stark naked on the rug and she quickly looked around for her shift. Without Jax’s massive body to shield and cover her, she felt very exposed. She spoke as she grabbed for her undergarments.

  “Can I come with you?” she asked. “I do not want to wait here all alone. I will not be a bother, I promise.”

  His smile faded as he watched her pull the shift over her head, covering her magnificent body. “Kelli,” he said slowly. “There is something you must understand about my army. They are not men of honor or character; they are mercenaries and murderers, and to have you wandering among them, even if you are with me, will only invite their dark fantasies. I do not want you exposed or paraded to my men. It is best if you stay here, protected by a select few men that I trust, and wait for my return.”

  She pulled her gown over her head, turning her back to him and indicating for him to help her fasten the stays on the back. He did so in silence, his big fingers nimbly navigating the buttons.

  “I suppose when the newness of all of this wears off, there will be a great many things that I must become accustomed to,” she finally said. “I will have to resign myself to the fact that my life has changed.”

  He finished the last stay and gently turned her around, his enormous hands on her shoulders. The dual-colored eyes gazed warmly at her.

  “It has changed,” he agreed. “But hopefully it is a change you will not regret.”

  She smiled. “As long as we are together, I can adjust. But you and I come from such different worlds, Jax. My world was one of peace and trust. Yours is of war and treachery. I wish I could have shown you my world in the days before….”

  Her smile faded, unable to finish her sentence. Anything she could think to say sounded too accusing or bitter. And she was not bitter. Jax’s ambition had brought him to her and she was not sorry for it. But she was sorry he had destroyed something very precious that he would never understand.

  He knew what she was going to say without benefit of words and he felt a stab of remorse. His hands began to caress her arms. “In just the short time I have known you, I have come to see something of a world that I never knew,” he said quietly. “I told you once that you were a corner of heaven I never knew existed; I should like to learn everything I can about it. But, inevitably, when you mix heaven and hell, there are bound to be some adjustments on both sides. I can never fully change and neither can you; but I would not have you any other way.”

  Her smile returned as she studied his face, the square jaw, and two-colored eyes that were so beautiful to her. “My God, I was so frightened of you when you first came to Pelinom,” she murmured, reaching up to touch his face and he pulled her close. “I was certain you were going to kill us.”

  He kissed her fingers when the moved across his lips. “I knew the moment I saw you that there was something different about you,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes. “I decided the moment you asked me why you should beg for your life that I would spare the sassy, outspoken wench.”

  She pursed her lips threateningly and he laughed. But as they both sobered, her golden-brown eyes were intense on him.

  “May I ask you a question?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, God; here it comes. Well? What is it?”

  “I wish for you to be honest with me.”

  “Is that your question?”

  “Of course not. But if there is to be one thing we can both depend upon in this marriage, I will ask that it be truth. Total truth. Do you disagree?”

  “I thought we were to depend upon our love for each other.”

  “That goes without saying. All I will ever ask is that you be truthful with me, Jax. I am serious.”

  “You have already asked a sight more than that.”

  She lowered her gaze and he could see that he had hurt her feelings. He squeezed her gently. “I was jesting, love,” he squeezed her again. “What is your question?”

  She toyed with the ties of his tunic. “Where did you go when you left Pelinom?”

  His smile, his light mood faded. “Why do you want to know?”

  “I just do. No specific reason.”

  Jax realized as he gazed down at her that it was going to be difficult for him to tell her. He’d become so accustomed to secrecy within his ranks that it was difficult to divulge critical information. He’d made a life out of not trusting most. But with Kellington, he realized he wanted to trust her. He wanted to tell her everything. He knew that she would never betray him; her integrity and courage was too strong.

  “I went to White Crag Castle,” he said quietly.

  She kept her surprise in check admirably. In fact, she was very calm as she spoke. “I know Lady Jane and Lady Anne Crandall,” she said, though her voice was trembling. “You… you did not harm them, did you?”

  He touched her face. “They are well and whole,” he replied. “So are their father and mother.”

  She closed her eyes in thanks, sighing heavily with relief. But it wasn’t enough to stave off the tears and they spilled over onto her cheeks as she fell forward against him. His massive hand was on her head, clutching it against his chest as his other arm went around her slender body. Her reaction puzzled him.

  “What’s the matter?” he as
ked softly. “I did as you asked. I showed them mercy.”

  She sobbed softly and he pulled her closer, guilt creeping into his veins, knowing instinctively that he was the cause of her tears.

  “I… I am grateful,” she whispered. “I can ask no more.”

  That only made him feel guiltier. He hugged her tightly, hoping to ease her sorrow, not knowing what else to say. He did not want to be the cause of her tears. After a few moments of rocking her gently, he pulled her back and wiped her cheeks with his fingers.

  “No tears,” he kissed her forehead. “There is no need.”

  She looked up at him with her watery eyes. “But you still occupy White Crag?”

  “I do. It is mine.”

  Just as Pelinom was his. She would not argue with him; she has promised him some time ago that she would not try to change his ambitious nature. But at least he was showing some mercy about it. Perhaps with time, he would show even more. She could only hope.

  With a final wipe of her eyes, she squared her shoulders. “Well,” she said with more pluck than she felt. “You told me that you have duties to attend to. I will not keep you any longer.”

  He looked at her, his long hair hanging down across one eye. “It is difficult for me to leave.”

  “I will be here when you return.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “The last time I left you, your father and my knight conspired to take you away from me.”

  There was truth to that statement. “But you found me,” she smiled. “I suspect that wherever I go, you will always find me.”

  He reached out and stroked her cheek. “Nothing can stop me,” he murmured as he took her hand and kissed it sweetly. With a wink, he quit the tent.

  Kellington stood there, watching the tent flap as it waved in the wake of his departure. It had been such a difficult path to get to where they were at this moment. Death, life, treachery, lies, hope and tears. But here they were, together, planning a new life. With as insane as the journey had been at times, she would not have had it any other way. It was making them who they were, molding their relationship into something strong and unbreakable. She felt more warmth and fulfillment than she had ever felt in her life.