Mary Gillgannon (18 page)

“Lady Alyce,” she called out pleasantly to a small dark-haired girl who lingered behind the other women. “Wait for me. I would have a word with you.”

“W
hat is it, Astra?” Lady Alyce’s large brown eyes were both interested and wary as Astra hurried up to her. Astra held a finger to her lips and drew the other woman aside. “I have a favor to ask of you,” she whispered. “Can you keep a secret?”

Lady Alyce shrugged. Astra took a deep breath, weighing the risk she was taking. Alyce was quiet and kept to herself, but it was rumored she regularly left the palace to meet lovers. It might be only gossip, but Astra suspected not. When any knights were around, Alyce’s smile always seemed to grow brighter, and her melting brown eyes danced around like little birds seeking a branch to alight on. Of all the ladies who served the Queen, Alyce seemed the one most likely to be willing and able to plan a nighttime excursion outside the manor.

“There is someone I must meet with privately tonight,” Astra began. “He is camped outside the manor with the other knights. Can you help me?”

Alyce’s eyes perused Astra’s face shrewdly. A slight smile touched her lips as she answered. “’Tis easily done. Most of the guards will help you, if you explain what you’re about. The few who are stubborn can usually be bribed.”

Bribed? Astra’s heart sank. She had no money, not a penny.

Alyce saw her look and smirked. “Not with coin, you ninny. A quick feel, a long hot kiss—that’s all those sort are after.”

Astra felt decidedly sick.

“I’ll go with you if you like,” Alyce offered. “There’s a big Saxon I’ve had my eye on. I’m afraid he’ll be marching for Wales soon.”

At the mention of Wales, Astra’s determination intensified. She couldn’t let Richard go back to that horrible war without telling him how she felt.

“What time?” she asked grimly.

“Listen for the bells of matins. I’ll be awake. We’ll wait for the watch to go by and then slip out.”

* * *

It wasn’t cold at all, but Astra shivered as she and Alyce crept out of bed and slipped past the rows of sleeping women. Alyce went ahead of her, moving with the confident stealth of one accustomed to night errands. Their hair was covered and both wore drab worn clothes meant to disguise them from curious eyes. Marguerite would be appalled that Astra was meeting her lover in a simple brown bliaut and ragged cloak, but it couldn’t be helped. If they were stopped, they would claim to be kitchen maids.

The manor was quiet, the only noises the soft snores floating from the sleeping chambers and the scuffle of rats among the floor rushes. They left the royal family’s private quarters and stole breathlessly through the Great Hall.

It was eerily still. Rushlights burned along the walls, illuminating the large cavernous room. Alyce led Astra into the kitchen. In the huge hearth a fire was left burning. A dozing page kept watch nearby. The leftover smells of food stirred Astra’s senses and made her hungry. Alyce carefully opened the creaking door, and out the back way they went, scurrying like mice.

The damp night air washed over Astra’s face. She was alert now, intensely aware of everything around her. There was a bright full moon, the Corn Moon the peasants called it. It lit the manor courtyard with a blaze of whiteness. Glancing up, Alyce shook her head. “There’s no hope we won’t be seen. We must find a guard to help us.”

Astra nodded. The anxiety in her belly tightened. They circled the yard and passed the buttery, the granary, then the mews. As they neared the gate, they heard a low growl. Astra stiffened, expecting the dog to attack.

“Hullo, boy, what is it?” a voice muttered.

Alyce stepped out of the shadows to face a lean, wraithlike soldier.

“It’s us, sir,” she said calmly. “We are scullery girls from the kitchen. We have an errand in the camp. Will you let us pass?”

Even by moonlight, the man’s leering smile was obvious. “An errand, have you now? And what errand might that be?”

Alyce’s voice was suddenly seductive. “One of the knights has asked for... entertainments. You would not want to disappoint the Black Leopard, would you now?”

Astra drew in her breath sharply. She had made no mention to Alyce of who she was meeting!

The soldier was almost as surprised. He guffawed low, and then grabbed Astra’s arm, pulling her out of the shadows. He stared hard at her face, and Astra’s stomach seemed to fall into her legs.

“Aye, he might be wanting you, for all that,” he said in a thoughtful voice. “You two are right comely wenches. But it seems unfair he should get both of you. Some of us other soldiers get lonely, too.”

“He asked for us both,” Alyce said coldly. “Would you dare to disregard the Black Leopard’s wishes?”

Astra couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw the man’s eyes widen in fear. Then his face again twisted into a crude smile. “I’ve heard of the Leopard’s voracious appetites. No doubt he’ll take you both at the same time—the greedy, gluttonous bastard!”

Astra stared, unable to believe what she’d heard. It couldn’t be true—surely Richard didn’t indulge in such depravity. The man was simply jealous and eager to disparage his betters.

“Will you help us?” Alyce coaxed. “There might be a reward in it for you.”

“Aye, I’ll help,” the man growled. “Take you right to his tent I will. I just hope the Leopard thinks it’s worth his while. If he don’t...” His eyes glittered. “I’ll expect to get my reward anyway.”

Alyce nodded, and the man turned and led them to the gate. He spoke low to the sentry and then stepped aside so the guard could see them more clearly. Astra resisted the urge to pull up her hood. The guard appeared to inspect her to see if she was alluring enough to interest a famed knight like the Leopard.

After a moment, he grunted. “I guess Reivers is up to his old tricks. Been a long while since I’ve known him to take two wenches to bed.”

Astra frowned. She really must speak to Richard about his shocking reputation.

The soldiers’ camp was much noisier than the manor. Despite the lateness, many of the men were still up, dicing and talking around the fires. As their escort led them unobtrusively through the rows of tents, Astra could hear snores, grunts, sighs and occasional feminine laughter. She was glad she had asked Alyce for assistance. Even if she had been able to get through the gate unnoticed, she would never have found Richard’s tent, and the thought of wandering around alone at night among all these soldiers unnerved her.

After a while the man guiding them stopped and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“What’s wrong?” Astra whispered.

“Can’t find it. Thought he’d have his banner up to mark his tent, but he don’t.”

She wanted to scream with frustration. The man had no idea where he was going. All this time he’d probably been leading them in circles!

“Might as well ask someone,” he added. “Wait here.”

Astra closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. Her plan was absolute folly. By the time they found Richard, it would be almost morning, and she’d have little time to talk to him. She should never have attempted such a foolish thing. Marguerite was good at intrigue, but she was not. When she tried it, everything ended up so bungled it was almost comical.

Behind her, Alyce yawned. Astra turned, regarding the sleepy-eyed woman curiously. “This sort of thing—do you do it often?”

Alyce shrugged. “Often enough. It’s easier at the palace. I know the guards there, and they aren’t such bumbling dullards. I tell them who I want to meet, and they take me there, for a price, of course.”

Astra nodded, feeling a faint queasiness in her belly. For all that she dressed in fine clothes and put on airs for the Queen, Alyce was little better than a strumpet.

“Why... why do you do it?”

Alyce made a vulgar sound. “What think you? I like it. My father plans to marry me off to some filthy rich old geezer. Why shouldn’t I enjoy myself with lusty young men while I can?”

“Are you in love with any of them?”

The moonlight was bright enough for Astra to see Alyce’s face quite clearly. Her delicate features contorted into a sneer. “Love is for ninnies.” Her brown eyes fixed coldly on Astra. “You think your precious Richard truly cares for you? Hah! You’re only his latest challenge. As soon as he has you, his interest will wane quickly enough.” Alyce’s brittle smile returned. “Perhaps then he’ll seek me to warm his bed. Or we could even pleasure him together, what the French call a
ménage à trois.
”

Astra’s eyes widened. “You can’t really think Richard would agree to that!”

“I’ve heard the Black Leopard’s tastes are quite varied,” Alyce purred. “And he’s not easily satisfied by the commonplace or ordinary.” She perused Astra assessingly. “Which makes me wonder what use he has for you. The gossip is that you were raised in a convent and know absolutely nothing about men.”

Astra was too stunned to respond. She had no chance anyway. The soldier had returned and was motioning for them to follow him. They walked back through the camp, seemingly taking the same route they had just traveled. The man finally paused in front of an unmarked tent. “Here in dwells the Black Leopard. I suggest you wake him and ask for my fee.”

Astra stared at the shadowy tent uneasily. What if the man was wrong and it wasn’t Richard’s tent? What if Richard did not greet her eagerly? Worst of all—what if he was not the man she knew at all, but a stranger with bestial habits?

She glanced at her two companions and realized her doubts were irrelevant. Alyce and the soldier expected her to go into the tent and face the Leopard alone, and they would not abide a long delay.

Slowly, anxiously, Astra pulled aside the tent flap and looked in.

At first, it was too dark to see anything, but gradually her eyes adjusted to the dim torchlight that filtered in through the tent opening. The place was a frightful mess. Weapons and clothes lay everywhere. A huge chest sat near the entrance, a chessboard on the top. Finely-carved game pieces were strewn across it like discarded children’s toys. She took a step into the tent and stumbled on a wineskin.

“Who goes there?”

She righted herself, looking deeper into the tent, where she could make out Richard’s form as he sat up. The shape of his bare chest was visible, his face still shrouded in shadows. She took a deep breath and answered. “It is I, Astra de Mortain.”

She could hear his indrawn breath. Moments passed. “Astra?” he finally asked. “Is it truly you?”

She nodded and then felt a fool. He probably couldn’t see the movement. “I’ve come to talk to you.”

There was a rustling sound as he threw the blankets side. The tent was too low for him to stand up. He approached her awkwardly, his head bent down.

“Astra? What are you doing here?”

“As I said, I need to speak to you.”

He moved close to her and then stopped. She still could not see his face. She glanced at his body and then regretted it. From the light coming in from an opening in the tent, Richard appeared to be completely naked.

Astra averted her eyes. “A man helped me find you. He expects a reward.”

“A reward?”

“Aye. He helped me sneak out of the manor yard, and then brought me here. I must give him something.”

Richard went to the large chest, and upending the chessboard and pieces, opened it and dug inside. He stumbled over to Astra, swearing as he stepped on something, and handed her a cold, hard object. Astra did not look at it, but ducked through the tent opening.

The soldier was waiting a few paces away. She thrust the object at him, seeing now that it was a dagger.

“The Leopard wants you to have this for your trouble.”

The man nodded and turned away. Astra started back toward the tent. Alyce put a restraining hand on her arm.

“Here now, what about me?”

Astra sighed and entered the tent again. Richard appeared to be fumbling around by the bedplace. She could hear scuffling noises in the corner.

“Richard, I’m sorry. There was a woman too, one of the Queen’s ladies. Without her, I would never have known what to do. I’m afraid she expects a reward, too.”

“All right, let me find a lamp.” Richard’s voice sounded sleepy, distant.

A light flared, revealing Richard’s nakedness. Astra closed her eyes. There was the sound of more fumbling, and then Richard’s breathing close by.

“Here,” he said, taking her hand and pressing another metal object into it.

Astra turned to the tent flap, finally opening her eyes. Outside, Alyce was waiting. Her eyes grew wide when she saw the brooch.

“Holy Mother! He gave you this?” She glanced at Astra, her face speculative. “Mayhaps I was wrong. It seems you mean more to Sir Richard than I thought.”

Astra resisted the urge to say something cutting. She didn’t want to get in an argument with Alyce. She just wanted her to leave.

“The blond knight?” she questioned Alyce. “Do you think you can find him?”

“’Tis no matter,” Alyce answered, still looking at the ebony brooch. “If I can’t, I will go back to the manor.” She raised her head to scan the night sky. “It’s growing near to morning anyway. There is no time to dawdle, Astra. Go to your lover and seek to please him well. If you are fortunate, perhaps he will make you his mistress.”

There was an unexpected wistfulness in Alyce’s voice that made Astra’s throat grow tight as she turned away.

R
ichard met Astra at the tent entrance and immediately pulled her into his arms. He tried to kiss her, but it was awkward in the low tent. Slipping to his knees, he wrapped his arms around her hips and pressed his face into her breasts. Astra squirmed.

“Please, Richard. I came to talk.”

“Talk,” he said huskily, and tried to pull her down beside him. She resisted him, her heart pounding. Richard had seen fit to put on his hose, but his chest and shoulders were still bare. She could not think with all that sleek, warm skin exposed.

“Please, Richard, dress yourself and come outside with me.”

Slowly he released her. She watched him fumble by the bed again, searching for the rest of his clothing. Then he sat down on his bedroll and began to dress. It was strange to watch him clothe himself, strange and somehow intimate. As he slipped his tunic over his head and managed his cross-garters and boots, Astra imagined watching him dress in the morning, as if he was her husband.

When Richard was done, he ran his fingers through his sleep-tousled hair and faced her with a smile. “I am ready.”

Outside the tent, Astra glanced to the east, nervously searching for the tell-tale glow of dawn. The sky seemed very dark, the moon still high and bright.

Richard appeared beside her and took her arm, then leaned over and kissed her. The kiss banished the night chill completely and left her hot and breathless. Richard ran his fingers through her hair, his mouth hard against hers. Astra’s whole body caught fire, the flames sucking the air from her lungs and making her so dizzy she could hardly stand.

Finally, she broke away to protest, “Richard, we have not talked yet.”

Slowly, he released her. “Lovely, Astra,” he murmured. “I can’t believe you are really here. When I woke and heard your voice, I thought it was a dream. Or mayhaps a holy vision. You look more like an angel than ever.”

His fingers raked through her disheveled braids, deftly undoing the tangled plaits until Astra’s hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders. He buried his hands in her hair and pulled her close again. He kissed her neck and said, “Now you are as I first saw you—your hair wild and golden in the sun. You are my goddess, my Venus, my angel. Let me worship you, Astra. Let me worship you as I wanted to then.”

At his whispered words, a hot thrill shot down her body. His hands tore at the loose neckline of her gown until it gave way. Finding the bare soft skin at the top of her breasts, he nuzzled, then nibbled, his rough mouth sending sharp, almost painful sensations down Astra’s body. Her knees wobbled. Richard held her up, his hands firmly cupping her buttocks.

Astra moaned, and then managed to come to her senses enough to push him away. “Have you no decency, Richard?” she said sternly, “We are in the midst of an army camp. If I am seen, it will go hard with us. Have a care and find us someplace private to talk.”

“Aye,” Richard mumbled. “You are right. I will take you somewhere no one will find us.”

She gasped as Richard picked her up. She’d never had a man carry her before. It felt strange and exhilarating. But she worried she was too heavy. For all that his arms felt strong and secure around her, she could hear him panting.

“Pray, don’t overexert yourself. I can easily walk.”

Richard laughed. “Do you think for one moment that I will agree to release you? Hah! I have thought of nothing but this for weeks, nay months. I have half a mind to carry you off into the woods and keep you to myself forever.”

Astra felt a stirring of unease. There was something unsettling about Richard’s words. She could half imagine him abducting her and keeping her as his prisoner. The thought aroused her oddly. Her heart was already his captive. What would it be like for him to imprison her body as well?

She had no idea where they were, but it was surely in the woods somewhere. Ahead was a clearing in the trees where the moon shone as bright as day. He carried her there and put her down. His arms still encircled her tightly.

“Astra, my love.” Richard rained kisses on her face and neck. Astra tilted up her mouth, searching for the warm wetness of his lips. He found her mouth and sucked greedily at her lips, then thrust his hot tongue into her mouth. She went limp, moaning. His hands were everywhere on her body, enflaming her. But when he tugged at the neck of her gown, Astra’s reason reasserted itself. She struggled to push his hands away. “Nay, Richard, we have not talked yet.”

“Talked of what?” he murmured, his lips still busy torturing her.

“I wanted to tell you—I am sorry for what happened in Southwark. I did not mean to involve you in a conflict on my behalf. If you would wish it, I would be willing to go to the King and explain you were only doing your duty.”

“Ah, Astra, there is no need,” Richard sighed. “I would gladly endure Henry’s wrath for your sake anytime. I was only afraid you would hate me for using violence to defend you.”

“I wish you could have ended the trouble another way, but I could never hate you, Richard.” She reached up and gently touched his face. “I... I love you.”

She felt Richard’s body tremble. He crushed her to his chest and gave a low moan. “Oh, Astra, if you knew what your words meant to me. If you only knew...”

His hands caressed her, impatient, almost frantic. She gave in to the breathless, urgent need his touch evoked, and allowed him to work down the neck of her gown so her breasts sprang free. He cupped them roughly and then stepped back, staring.

“God in heaven, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”

Astra felt a sense of horror mingling with her desire. Her breasts were completely bare. It was night, but the moonlight was very bright. It was almost as bad as when he had seen her swimming in the pond in the forest. The very thought of it made her feel weak and shaky.

“Richard...I...”

“Hush,” he whispered. “I only want to look, to drink my fill of you.”

“But Richard,” Astra protested, suddenly frightened. “We cannot do this. Someone could come upon us. Someone could... oh!”

Richard’s leg had somehow entangled with hers. Astra lost her balance and went down with a soft crumpling sound. She was not hurt, only dazed. Richard’s arms had cushioned the impact, but it startled her to change position so quickly.

Richard released her and then jerked off his tunic, tossing it aside.

Astra panicked. “What... what are you doing?”

“Hush. I only want to look at you.”

His voice was low, vibrant, tender. Astra felt herself giving in. Her doubts seemed to float away, and she suddenly was aware of nothing except the man who loomed over her. His shoulders were like dark wings. His handsome features glowed silver in the moonlight. At this moment he seemed as wild, as beautiful as his leopard namesake. She reached out to caress him. The skin of his chest was warm, smooth, alive, as luxurious as velvet under her fingertips. She closed her eyes and gave in to the sensation, floating down a river of pleasure and contentment.

“I dreamed of touching you like this,” she whispered. “When you went off to Wales, I was so afraid. I was terrified you would be hurt, or killed...” Her voice broke with emotion.

She felt Richard’s hands on her breasts, stroking in slow, rhythmic circles. “And I thought of you, every moment,” he whispered. “I dreamed of loving you, touching you. I thought perhaps I wanted to die. I imagined heaven was filled with angels like you.”

She grasped his hands and held them against her heart. “Do not say such things. It is sinful to wish for death. If you had died, a piece of me would have died also.”

“But I have found heaven here,” he said. He leaned forward and pressed his face in the hollow between her breasts. “Such sweetness...” he murmured.

Astra released a shuddering breath. In her fantasies she had imagined Richard resting his head on her chest, his dark hair soft against her skin. Now it was happening, and the thought of it made her nipples tighten until they ached. Longing shot through her and a sigh escaped her lips. As if in response, Richard raised himself up and suckled her breast. His hand stroked her other breast, teasing the nipple with his fingers.

Astra moaned and arched her back, giving in to the shimmering pleasure. Richard’s mouth was everywhere. He laved hot kisses on her nipples and then traced the swelling curves of her breasts with his tongue. His fingers followed, fondling, squeezing and stroking her as if he could not be satisfied. Astra found it a kind of exquisite torture to be touched so many places at once. Her mouth felt wet and hungry, and the place between her legs had grown so swollen and hot she could barely lie still.

Richard gave a ravaged sigh. “Oh, Astra, I cannot endure it—I must know the rest of you as well!”

She felt his searing mouth desert her, leaving the night air cool on her wet, sensitive skin. Richard fumbled with the folds of her bliaut. She cried out as his fingers found her bare leg and moved upwards. In seconds, her skirts were pushed to her waist, her legs and hips exposed to the moonlight.

Astra went rigid. She might as well be naked—her breasts and hips were completely uncovered and only the bunched up skirt shielded her belly. His fingertips were mere inches from her most private parts. She felt his eyes upon her, and the blood rushed to her face, making her feel hot and fevered. She was ready to swoon. If she had known what he meant to do next, perhaps she would have.

Soft hair tickled her thigh. Astra drew in her breath as his lips brushed her thigh. She clenched her legs together and whimpered. The feel of his warm breath started an ache deep inside her, quivering and irresistible. She could not escape the tormenting heat of it. Her chest heaved. His mouth came down on the cleft between her thighs, but she did not shatter into pieces as she expected. She made a soft, animal-like sound, and her legs slid apart.

The whisker-roughed skin around his mouth pressed against her tenderest parts, sending spasms of heartstopping pleasure through her body. His lips devoured her. His tongue alternately soothed and tormented her. The sensations expanded and grew, rippling within her like the current of a river. She reached down blindly and buried her fingers in his hair, bracing herself against the raging tide that threatened to consume her. Darkness spilled over her. Darkness lit with vague pinpoints of light, like stars. The stars grew and swelled, filling the night.

She trembled, shivering convulsively. Richard stroked her tenderly. His face rested on her thigh. She reached down and pulled him up to her, desperate to have his strong arms around her. He kissed her, his lips still musky with her scent. She felt light and boneless, as if she might float away. Every inch of her tingled, and she could still feel the imprint of Richard’s mouth on the throbbing flesh between her legs. He had possessed her, claimed her, and the fever his touch had aroused could not be easily quenched.

He began to kiss her roughly, and she realized he had not found satisfaction yet, that there was more to lovemaking than what they had experienced. The knowledge frightened and intrigued her. She let her fingers explore his bare torso, wondering if she could hope to offer him the same pleasure he had given her. Richard grabbed her hand and pressed it against the front of his hose. She felt something rigid and warm—and startlingly alive.

“Touch me here, Astra,” he begged. “Please.”

She stroked him slowly, tenderly, then tensed as the sound of voices cut through the darkness.

“It came from over here,” a man called sharply. “I don’t think it was an animal. It sounded like a woman.”

“Jesu, Rob, it’s probably a couple of lovers enjoying the moonlight. Why can’t we leave them be?”

“Because we don’t know for certain what it was. It might be poachers, brigands, even an assassin targeting the King.”

Astra held her breath and clutched at Richard’s arm. If they were found, she would be disgraced. The Queen would banish her from court. She started to rise. Richard restrained her with an iron-like grip.

“An assassin? Does Henry think some disgruntled baron is out to murder him?”

“In truth, I think he fears madmen more than his barons. The King seems blissfully unaware of the real trouble lurking in his kingdom. What, ho! Did you hear something?”

The sound the men had heard was Astra’s chemise tearing. Richard had ripped it off and was struggling to fasten it over her hair and the top part of her face. Having managed that, he pulled her beneath him and pressed his lips noisily to hers.

Astra gasped, fighting the kiss. What did Richard mean to do in the few short moments before the King’s men found them? She struggled as he thrust his heated groin against hers. Then, despite herself, Astra groaned.

“Shit, Geoffrey, I told you it was just a pair making the two-backed beast. Stand up, man, let me see your face.”

Slowly, carefully Richard stood. He moved in front of Astra and blocked the men’s view of her.

“Sir Richard! We did not think to find you fucking in the woods. Silk coverlets and soft beds are more in keeping with your reputation.”

“The wench is well-born, and she wishes to keep her identity secret,” Richard answered. “I thought we’d be safer here than among the prying eyes of the camp.”

Astra held the torn cloth against her face, wondering how much of the rest of her the men could see. Richard had jerked down her bliaut before he stood, but she guessed they had gotten a good eyeful anyway.

“Sorry to trouble you in the middle of that, Reivers. She looks like an exceptional piece.”

“Oh, she is,” Richard agreed coolly. “She’s well worth risking my life and limbs prowling around the forest at night.”

“Married?” one of the men asked, trying to peer around Richard.

“She might be,” Richard answered in a low, threatening voice. “As I said, it’s essential her identity be concealed.”

“We’ll leave you to your pleasure then, Reivers.” One of the soldiers began to walk away. “But I would advise you to see your ladylove back to her bed. The King’s household is already stirring.”

The other man turned away with reluctance and followed his companion into the woods. Astra stood up, wondering if her shaky legs would hold her. Despite her fear, her body throbbed with longing and incompletion. Richard turned to her. Perhaps it was growing light after all, for Astra could see his features clearly. His mouth was harsh, his eyes tense and brooding.