How to Seduce a Queen: A Medieval Romance Novel (6 page)

Chapter 10

Why does that monk distract me so?
Across the tables of the dark hall, he sat with the rest of his kindred. Without hair, Fay should’ve found him less appealing. Instead, it made her want to caress his soft beard, move hands behind his neck, down his back, and touch the forbidden parts of his body.

Aunt Aggie caught her staring, raised her eyebrows, and smiled. “He’s verra handsome, is he not? Much more so than his half-brother in Scarborough.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Fay’s cheeks heated, she speared a piece of mutton, then washed it down with bitter ale. Was she so transparent?

Chuckling, her aunt chewed the edge of her trencher. “I once heard of a priest who left his orders. He escaped to another land, changed his name, and married.”

“A grave sin, was it not?” Fay pretended to be uninterested.

“I suppose, if you believe in such things, which you do not.” Aggie smirked.

Like iron to a lodestone, Fay glanced up from her stew, and was trapped by the monk’s smile. He raised a brown cup in her direction, and winked. Damnation, he made her lady’s lips weep.

She slumped into her bench and whispered to her aunt, “I ask you, is that monk-like behavior?”

“What, dear?” Oh, she was good at this game.

Fay scowled. “The way he smiles is infuriating. Not at all holy. Sometimes I think he must be Nicholas de Bruce of Scarborough. Don’t you wonder? Haven’t you noticed how his beard comes in red?”

Aggie shrugged and shouted above the din, “His form is fine to look upon, though.”

The room went silent for a moment before the orphans broke into fits of hysterics. God’s Blood, her aunt grew deafer by the moment. Sean fumed while the rest of the knights focused on their meal, no doubt hiding their smirks.

Time to put a stop to this falderal. She glared at each and every one of them. “If you’re all finished laughing at my poor aunt, you may wash your dishes and set up the pallets.”

She dared not look up until the monks departed out the front door along with her knights. After all her boys were settled, she stopped in the kitchen where Haddr put the last of the dishes away.

Fay cleared her throat and said quietly, “I’ve missed you so.”

“And I you.” Her friend held out her arms and gave her a warm hug.

“I’m so sorry you were forced to work in the tavern. Who would make up such ugly rumors?”

Haddr smiled sadly and adjusted the cloth tied about her hair. “You should go. We’re in the same room without chaperone. Even now, your small court may be questioning what goes on in here.”

“But I have things I must discuss or I shall burst, and they’re not for men’s ears or even Aunt Aggie's. For the first time, I have felt . . . something for a man. I’m not broken.”

Haddr jumped up and down. “Truly? Which one? Is it Sir Ferguson?”

“Sadly, not him. It would make my life easier. It’s the monk.”

Her brilliant smile dropped to a pout. “Oh. I was hoping for a romp with that one myself.”

“Brother Nicodemus?” A pang of jealousy hit her gut.

Haddr touched her arm. “Oh nay, nay. The jolly one. The one who pinches my arse and steals kisses.”

Relieved, Fay brushed the crumbs off the serving tray and folded table linens. “Don’t you find that a mite strange? That monks lust?”

“Not at all. The priest in the village? He’s one of the most immoral men about. He’s bartered forgiveness in exchange for sex.”

Fay’s stomach turned at the thought. “Och. I shall run that awful man off the island.”

Haddr reached for a broom. “Well, mayhap eventually, but not tonight. Tell me more about these feelings.”

“I cannot stop thinking of kisses. And more.” Fay leaned back against a tabletop. She pictured herself in front of a warm fire, atop a pile of furs, soft lips locked with his in passion.

Haddr danced with her broom partner. “I’m so happy for you!”

“Stop, stop. Tell me. What am I to do?” She bit her lower lip and glanced toward the arch that led to the hall. Some of the men had returned and were talking in low voices to the boys.

Haddr grinned and kissed her straw lover. “Does he return your affection?”

“Of course not. He’s a monk.” Fay grabbed the broom and shook one finger at it, like an ill-mannered boy.

Loki bounded in, wagged his tail, and barked once. Haddr kissed him on the nose and spoke in doggy-nonsense, “Tell me, does he gaze into your eyes and his voice grow low? Hmmm?”

“Aye.” Pieces of straw and crumbs flew as Fay rigorously swept the black stone floor.

Laughing, Haddr shooed Loki out the back door when she’d had enough.

“Does he lean in? Does he touch you when he leads you? Does he try to find excuses to get you alone?”

When Fay followed Haddr outside, the oven’s heat hit her face. “Aye, aye, and aye.”

“You must be very careful to not get pregnant by him.” She removed the ladle from the kettle, placed a heavy iron cover over the steaming broth, and set it by the fire.

Fay stopped her sweeping. She had not thought of it. “Thor’s balls. I could not. Could I?”

“When a man gets his snake near your den, ’tis hard to close the door. Do you understand?”

“Not really.”

“Mother Frigga. Then don’t spend time alone with him.” Haddr stepped back into the kitchen.

Fay followed. “He’s promised to help me find my faith. I can’t do that alone.”

“You’ve got all those bastard orphans. Keep one with you at all times.”

She shot her a gaze of warning, pulled her pallet from under the shelving, and pounded the straw mattress.

“You should’ve seen him stand up to that priest today. The old fart almost pissed himself.”

“I wish I had been there.” Fay sat next to her friend, sighed, and pictured her monk as Lancelot in King Arthur’s court.

“I’ve never seen the likes. I bet Saint George was like that when he met the dragon.”

Fay giggled. “There are no dragons.”

“Of course. Because George slew the last.” Haddr’s eyes sparkled.

“Enough. We’ve a long day tomorrow. I’ve missed you so.” She hugged her friend tightly and kissed her on the cheek. At that moment, the man of their discussions walked into the kitchen, catching their embrace.

His brows furrowed as if in pain and the smile dropped off his face. He cleared his throat and looked away. “Forgive me. I had one more cup to put away. I didn’t mean to interrupt your, uh, conversation.”

For the love of Christ. He would believe the rumors, with all of the rest?

Haddr began to speak, but Fay could not stop herself. She kissed Haddr solidly on the lips. “Goodnight, my love.”

She gave the monk a perfected glower, and stormed out of the kitchen toward her chambers. That man was a thistle on her behind. It would be best for her to remember that, for soon she’d be sharing her chambers with a knight chosen by the king.

With no torches, she shivered as she felt her way up the stairs in complete blackness. Once inside her room, she opened the shutters and breathed easier, bathing in blue moonlight.

Far below, the hateful monk stormed out of the keep, crossed the square, and down the stairs. Shortly thereafter, he reappeared at the lowest level. The drawbridge went down and he crossed it with long strides. Loki followed with tail wagging. After he traversed the field, he took the path down to the sea’s edge.

Bloody wounds of Christ.
The water’s pull there was unpredictable. As a stranger, he might drown.

After arguing with herself for the longest of time, she decided, as queen, it was right for her to check on his well-being. She tiptoed down the stairs. Thankfully, none on pallets in the hall gave her notice. In the kitchen, Haddr snored softly near the ovens.

Fay slid aside a piece of stone, climbed through the hole, and down the ladder. In the cool tunnel, she lit a lamp and descended. Once she reached the seafloor, she padded her bare feet across the sand and searched the waves with racing heart. Where was he? Had he already drowned?

When Loki barked, she almost shouted to him, but stopped short when her completely naked monk exited the sea. Water dripped from his magnificent chest, glistening in the moonlight. His arms and legs were firm and fine. What drew her attention, however, was the large appendage between his legs.

He cursed when he saw her and ran back into the surf. Meanwhile the dog barked, running back and forth along the ocean’s edge.

She dared breathe again when he withdrew with his back to her, shook like Loki, and put on his brown robe.

Suddenly, the dog yelped as it stuck its nose where it didn’t belong. Chuckling, the monk squatted and kicked away a sea crab. He was rewarded with licks so grateful that he fell upon his arse. Giggling at their antics, she moved closer.

When a shell snapped underfoot, he glanced up, and growled, “What’re you doing here?”

She hobbled over sharp shells to stand eye to eye. He had no right to be angry with her. It should be the other way around. He was the one who believed the lies. She’d seen it in his eyes. “The tides here are unpredictable. I wanted to warn you.”

“Now that you see that I’m not drowned, you can go. I need to pray.” He frowned, and reminded her of Scarborough, how his half-brother had dismissed her so similarly. Tonight it would not be so easy.

“Here?” She wandered about so as to see his face, all the while Loki’s tail thumped her calves.

“Aye, here. While I swim.
Alone
. Go back to your forbidden love. I will say naught about it, if that’s why you’ve followed.” His words were clipped with anger and his face stormy as the sea.

She touched his arm. “Listen to me. Haddr is my friend. I don’t sleep with her. At least not in the manner you suggest.”

“I know what I saw. Such
friendships
are forbidden by God.” His usually light eyes reflected the dark ocean.

What an arse.
“Then I have a verra fine reason not to believe in Him, don’t I?”

He turned without warning, grabbed both of her shoulders, and stared a hole into the depths of her soul. “Do you love her, lass?”

“Did I not just say so? She’s my dearest friend.” Fay struggled, but could not flee his iron grip. The man was insufferable. “Let me go.”

He shook her lightly and held her gaze. “But more? More lass?”

“You would nay believe me, no matter what I confess.” She closed her eyes so as he could not see the hurt.

He sighed and released her. “Mayhap not. Go back up the way you came. When you’re safely in your room, put the lamp in your window. I shall not attempt to return until then. Monk or no, ’tis unseemly to be alone with you.”

“Why so? That is, if you believe I’m not attracted to men, it should not matter.” Surely he could see his flawed logic.

“Because others—”

“Believe the same as you.” She took one step and breathed him in.

More fiercely than ever before, the longing returned. This time, in addition to wetness between her legs, her breasts felt heavy and her mouth dried. She licked her lips and her pelvis tilted up in wanting.

His eyes grew dark, and even with his monk’s covering, the bulge under his belt became prominent. His mouth moved close but not touching. He was waiting for her.

Hardly able to stand, she breached the small distance, and pressed her lips onto his surprisingly soft ones, tasting of sea salt. He growled, closed his strong arms around her back until her breasts flattened against his chest. An eternity could have passed as they shared lustful kisses. Nothing else mattered.

She became aware of his thick length prodding her pelvis as his tongue asked for entrance. What would he be like inside of her? She held the back of his head, hoping the magic would never end, and pushed her need against his. Heaven called to her as she lifted her kirtle and wrapped her legs around his waist.

He moaned and lifted his tunic. The soft skin of his cock slipped to her lower lips, trying to find entrance. Without warning, a vision of
the-day-that-could-not-be-spoken
appeared. Instead of her monk, her stepbrother, Gofraid, grasped her, leering.

His cock that day was bulging and swollen. He turned her onto her back and there was nothing but pain.

She screamed. “Nay. Stop.”

She scrambled back and away, but Gofraid held her down. With nails, she tore at his face and she kicked and bit. She cried out, but he beat her and raped her.

Finally she just wept into the solid form that held her and rubbed her back as one might a wee babe.

“Fay. Lass? Where did you go?”

She opened her eyes. Gofraid disappeared into the dark dream-world, and Brother Nicodemus sat beside her atop the small hill of stones and shells. His face was bloodied above his beard, where she’d scratched him. His eyes showed such concern that her throat tightened and tears began anew.

“I let go the moment you screamed. I swear I meant you no harm. For the kissing, I may go to hell, but not for what you were screaming about.” His hands held hers tightly as if she might run.

“Tell me. Did we . . .” She studied his eyes, his mouth, and his cuts. Dear God. What had she done?

His brows creased. “You think I would take you while you fought me?”

She shook her head back and forth. “Nay, Nay . . . Oh, I’m not quite sure of anything. One moment I was kissing you and the next I was ten and three, and you were Gofraid. Forgive me, Brother. I truly have no recall. You and I did not, not . . . your manly parts did not . . .?”