A Knight for Love (26 page)

However, the nights baffled her even more. He didn’t join her in their bed, protesting he was much too restless to sleep and would surely disturb her.

He slept instead on a pallet by the fire. By the time she awoke in the morning, ale and bread would be warming on the hearth for her. Once she even found a sprig of holly tied with a red ribbon on the pillow beside her.

“Warin?” She finally had to question him after he had plied her endlessly one evening with compliments. “Is aught amiss?”

She welcomed his
attention but she began to think guilt plagued him over something he had done. She dared not hope he cared for her – she reminded herself that he had married her only on the king’s command.

“Nay,” he replied. “Only that I cannot get enough of your beauty
which brightens this day and every day.”

“I don
’t need coddling or pretty words that are purposeless,” she declared. Did he think he could placate her with hollow compliments? She bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from blurting out the question.

“Is it coddling to help one’s wife? Is it purposeless to ply her with the compliments she so richly deserves?” His eyes were warm, admiring and she desperately wanted to believe him.

“Nay but I can’t help but think.” She stopped, not wishing to offend him.

“Aye, Alyna, think what?”

“That you
’ve committed some grievous error and don’t wish to tell me.” There, she said it.

To her amazement, he tilted his head back and began to laugh.

“By the Virgin Mary, Alyna,” he said finally, wiping his eyes. “What suspicion do you harbor beneath that sweet face?”

“I don’t know
,” she shrugged. “I somehow feel you’re holding a secret from me.”

“
There are no secrets.” Warin chuckled again.

She laid her index finger against her mouth and stared at him, narrowing her eyes slightly. He was up to something, she could feel it, but what it was eluded her.

“Very well,” she nodded. Warin claimed all was well and if not, he would tell her on his own time. She yawned.

“You are weary?”

“Aye. The days are long and busy but I’m thankful for that, for the castle has never looked finer.” She lifted her chin with pride. With the addition of Muriel and two other women from the village, the castle once again resembled a home and not a battleground.

“The women mind you well?” He leaned over to stir the embers of the fire. The flames sprang to life again, their reflection dancing on his face.

“Aye.” Alyna nodded. “M
uriel comes with her babe every morning and returns to the village in the evening. Hilda and her daughter Beatrice sleep on pallets in the kitchen chamber. Since the death of her husband, Hilda has no desire to live alone.”

She yawned again. “I
’m off to bed. See, all about us sleep already.” She pointed to the slumbering figures scattered about the hall.

“I
’ll join you shortly. I want to see to Citadel. He came up lame today.”

“Make haste for the night is chill.” The phrase popped out, solicitous in its intent.
It must have pleased him for his face softened when he looked at her.

“I will.” Warin leaned over and brushed a kiss against her cheek before he stood. She shivered at the contact, so light yet so thrilling.

As she watched him thread his way through the tables, benches and sleeping men, she touched her cheek where his lips had brushed it. How she wished he would come to share the bed this night so that not just her cheek but her entire body could feel him, so that he could feed the inferno that lay banked within her.

At the door, he grabbed one of the torches against the darkness outside. When he disappeared from sight, she rose from the bench and
tiptoed up the stairs to the solar.

*****

Alyna sat by the fire in their chamber. She leaned over to dip a cloth in the basin at her feet and began to wash her face.

“Alyna?”
Warin’s voice caressed her ears.

Startled, she dropped the cloth. “My lord,
I didn’t hear you come in. You surprised me.”

“As you surprise me every day,” he whispered, moving to stand behind her. “With your grace and your essence.”

He lifted a finger and traced the profile of her cheek.

Cautiously, she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. Had some imp told him of her thoughts? Warin
had come to her, just as she had wished.

A smile carved its way slowly across his face and he looked her directly in the eyes. She was lost, whirling down into the icy blue depths, drawn into his very core, trapped.

Warin. His name curled about her mind like the morning mist and silently she repeated it. Warin. Her woman’s place began to throb, hard. She closed her eyes to combat the sensation, to free herself from his visual grip, a grip as sure and strong as if he held her with his hands.

Something
tickled her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she saw his hand had touched her. He left it for an instant then slowly traced down her arm and back up again. With his other hand, he cupped her breast and tweaked her nipple through the fabric of her kirtle.

“Oh,” she moaned. She leaned her head back against him. “Again,” she whispered. She hoped he would not think her forward but she so wanted him in her arms.

He obliged, cupping both breasts securely and nuzzling her neck before turning her about on the stool and dropping to his knees between her legs. Her knees burned where his hands lay on them.

“Alyna, my dove.”

The endearment rendered her speechless for this time it was not spoken in the bantering tone of that night in the hall.

He chuckled softly
at her surprise, lowering his head to kiss her. Anticipation coursed through her and she parted her lips in invitation. Aye, she knew what she wanted and she would do all in her power to make it so.

“Alyna.” He whispered again before his lips touched hers, soft at first then with more demand. Resisting the urge to clasp her arms about him, Alyna instead gripped the edge of the stool and gave herself to the power of their kiss, a power hint
ing of the sensuous storm to come.

Lip dancing with lip, tongue teasing against tongue, the tantalizing joining of their mouths became a battleground for all the senses. The smell of him, of leather and fresh air, the taste, the feel of his hands heavy upon her knees, the sound of his breath, so many senses in play that she couldn
’t open her eyes without succumbing to the deluge.

And so she kept them closed and focused on the exquisite maelstrom rul
ing her body. Finally, he pulled his head away.

Her lips felt abandoned at the interruption nevertheless her eyes could not, would not open
. For an instant, nothing, then he picked her up and placed her gently on the bed.

Passion ruled over all, for cool air
whispered against her skin as he stripped her kirtle and chemise from her, then came the welcome weight of Warin on her body. He sprinkled kisses upon her face and neck much like the gentle spring showers that brought the earth to life.

Still she
couldn’t open her eyes but now her lips were no longer bereft, instead were curved with pleasure. This time when he kissed her, aggression triumphed over quiescence and her tongue became a weapon, piercing him with sweet precision.

Wanton! The thought burst into her mind as her body began to writhe against him, seeking the relief only he could provide. Beyond caring, she bucked even harder, parting her legs so
he lay nestled between them, inviting him in to make her whole, embracing the welcome pressure as he entered her.

He began to move within her, deliberate, awakening the nameless yearning, challenging her to find her release.

“My Alyna,” he whispered against her ear, “Only mine.”

“Warin!” He slowed then stopped at her whimper.

“Nay,” she pleaded with him, “it’s not that. I—” Her voice trailed away as he started to thrust again.

What was it she wanted to say?
All thoughts disappeared and she wrapped her legs about his waist, imploring, begging, nay, commanding him for more. Restraint cast aside, he pumped wildly, carrying her with him until she reached that elusive summit of purity.

Her cry, and his, echoed through the chamber.

They lay there for several moments before Warin pulled himself away. It was a slow movement, as if he were loath to break the contact.

“You please me greatly, wife.” Propped on his elbow beside her, Warin lifted a tawny curl and tickled her nose with it.
Her heart leap at the tender gesture, precious in its familiarity.

But no words of love passed his lips. Seconds passed and still he said nothing.

“Thank you,” she whispered finally. He had said she pleased him. It was not much but it was a start. Although he didn’t love her, she couldn’t quell the tide of love for him consuming her.

Should she say the words? Would they please him or repulse him?

Nay, best to keep her silence. He had said she pleased him. It would sustain her for now.

She rolled over and snuggled her backside into his hips, soon to fall asleep.

Warin scowled deeply as he stared over her head into the fading embers. Love, could she not tell him she loved him? Didn’t she know the importance of her love to him? Didn’t she know his very salvation depended on it? Didn’t she know the talisman of her love would only be effective if it came from her un-asked?

It didn
’t occur to him to reflect on the absurdity of the latter.

He smoothed the tawny curls so they lay straight, catching the faint wisp of lily of the valley. He sucked in a great lungful of air, as if he could inhale her very being.

He’d thought his recent actions would show his feelings to her but so far apparently not enough to sway her. He wouldn’t bare his soul to her until he had reassurance that love for him simmered in her heart.

He pulled her close.
Good things were worth waiting for and good things were worth fighting for. The wooing would continue, he vowed. Alyna would be his, body and heart.

Chapter Eighteen

Caperun Keep
always rang with merriment at Christmastide and Alyna determined to keep it that way. Since early morning, all had been busy with preparations for the festivities beginning on the morrow.

Excitement bubbled from her every pore at the hum of activity fill
ing the castle.

“Ho, Bennet!” She called out as Bennet came into the hall early one afternoon still stamping the snow off his feet. “Did you find everything I asked for?” She put aside her blue tunic. She was letting out the seams as she had tried it on last night and it had become a bit snug.

“Good day, Lady Alyna.” He winked at her from frost-rimmed eyes then pulled forth several branches laden with white berries he had kept hidden behind his back. “Everything and more.”

“Mistletoe!” She clapped her hands. “How lovely!”

“And bunches of holly, fir branches, ivy and a Yule log.”

She peeked around him in mock surprise. “You hide them all behind you?”

“Nay.” Bennet guffawed at her remark. “Fordwin comes with the log. His horse is much sturdier than mine. The rest is piled in the bailey waiting for your direction.”

“It will be a fine Christmas, Bennet,” she
exclaimed. “By the time Warin returns, the hall must be decorated.” She waved her arm about. “This morning he left a barren room, this evening he finds a forest.”

“Warin is
gone?” Bennet asked.

“Aye, he hunts for a stag and a boar. We
’ll eat well these twelve nights.”

She kept Bennet and Fordwin busy the rest of the day festooning the keep with greenery. Ivy was pinned to the walls and laid on the tables, bunches of holly were hung from the wall sconces and fir branches were strewn about with the rushes. Even
fir branches tied together with a leather thong hung from the door in the entrance turret. And, after much deliberation, mistletoe adorned both doorways of the great hall.

“Is not one bunch enough?” Alyna
giggled as Bennet struggled to hang the second bunch on the portal leading to the solar.

“Nay,” Bennet replied with authority. “The mistletoe stops evil spirits and witches.” He jumped off the bench that he had pulled over
to stand on. “Too, we must give ample opportunity for all to kiss beneath – it’s said to bestow fertility.”

Alyna laughed at the flush color
ing Bennet’s face once he realized what he had said.

“Er,” he stumbled over his words. “I meant no offence, Lady Alyna.” In an effort to hide his discomfort, he
yanked the bench back to the table, almost tipping it over in his haste.