Desired (28 page)

As the ladies rode back to the castle they were all fast friends again, as they had been before the misunderstanding between Joan and Brianna. “Your parents were so lucky to marry for love,” Joan said wistfully.

Brianna asked softly, “What does it feel like to be in love?”

“Heaven … and hell,” Joan replied with a sigh of longing. “His face is ever before you. He fills every waking thought and comes each night in your dreams. The desire
to be together is so strong it cannot be denied. Love is so good and so powerful it transcends all barriers. You know it will be hell to be separated, but it would only be unbearable if you had no love memories to cherish.” Joan flushed. “I know you think me foolish to love Edward, but I will take whatever is given me. He has made me a woman and I have no regrets.”

In that moment Brianna did not think her friend foolish, she thought her most courageous.

It wasn’t far back to the castle, so they had lots of time before the evening meal.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Adele gasped in alarm as she saw the black-footed ferret streak toward Clancy. The old tomcat paused from washing his face, lifted his paw, and batted the ferret on the nose. Gnasher sat back quickly on his haunches, then crouched submissively before the dominant cat who had ruled this territory for a decade. Adele laughed with relief.

Brianna said, “Attitude is everything. Old Clancy probably only has half his teeth left, but the ferret doesn’t know that.”

Adele swooped the tabby into her arms. “I’m going to change into something more elegant before I go to the hall.”

Joan winked at Brianna, for here was more evidence that Adele wanted to attract the Irish squire. “Let’s all wear something special,” Joan suggested, and immediately Glynis agreed with her.

“What will you wear, Brianna?” Joan asked as they all entered her chamber. Adele bent to pick up the lace garment from the floor where it had lain since morning. “What lovely material, what is it?” Joan asked curiously.

“It belonged to my mother; it’s a night rail,” Brianna said, hoping her cheeks did not flame into color.

“How lovely,” said Joan, fingering the delicate folds. “This was her chamber; are there any more of her things?”

“Yes, there’s a whole trunkful.”

“Oh, can we look at them?” Joan begged.

“Of course,” said Brianna, dropping to her knees before the heavy trunk and lifting its lid. The other ladies knelt beside her and she handed out the garments one at a time.

“Just look at the brilliant color of this gown!” exclaimed Joan. “What would you call it?”

“Aquamarine?” Adele suggested.

“Turquoise?” Glynis said.

“Peacock!” Brianna decided.

“Oh yes, peacock,” Joan agreed. “But it’s cut in the latest French style with tight bodice and full skirt, how can that be?”

Brianna shrugged. “When it comes to fashion, there’s nothing new under the sun. If you hang on to your clothes long enough, they always seem to come back in style.”

“Brianna, you must wear this tonight. Only think how your emerald-studded girdle will set it off!”

Brianna hesitated. How would she ever be able to walk into the hall and face Hawksblood? Then common sense prevailed. Last night’s episode had been a fantastic dream. She must banish it from her thoughts. She decided that she would wear the gown to give her confidence. Her mother had been a countess who presided over her own hall with the regal air of a queen. Tonight she, too, would preside over her own hall.

“Glynis, come and help me find something that won’t put me in the shade,” Joan urged, and the two of them went off to her chamber.

“Would you like me to help you dress?”

“No, Adele, go and get ready yourself. Perhaps you can help me put up my hair later, if you have time.”

As Brianna admired her reflection in the oval mirror, the corners of her mouth lifted in a secret smile. She knew she had never looked lovelier. She had never felt more alive either. The anticipation of seeing Christian in the hall left her breathless. She knew with a knowledge as old as Eve that their coming together was inevitable.

Fated.

Mated!

Wearing her mother’s peacock gown altered all Brianna’s perceptions. What had been distant was now very close. What had been feared was now desired. What had been impossible was now attainable. How simple it was to separate pretense from truth. The pretense was her indifference. At last she admitted that she had all the symptoms
of love that Joan described, and more. Could she possibly allow her friend to be more of a woman than she herself was?

Christian Hawksblood had taken an interest in Bedford because he cared deeply about her. He had made it plain that he desired her intensely. Had told her he intended to claim her as
his
lady. She made up her mind to grasp the happiness that was offered her. Before she married Robert, perhaps unhappily, she would sample rapture in the arms of the man she had begun to love. No one could take away her memories!

How easy it was to separate fantasy from reality. Last night was a dream. Tonight would be real. They would come together in the flesh, drawn by their hunger and need for each other. In the peacock gown she had the power to realize she had chosen him long ago, at the beginning of time!

When the ladies entered the dining hall, the first person they encountered was Hawksblood. Brianna smiled into Christian’s eyes. “Good evening,
my
lord.” The emphasis was unmistakably upon the word
my
!

I
t was as if the world and everyone in it fell away for long moments while the couple caressed each other with their eyes. Finally, she offered him her hand and he carried it to his lips as if it were precious to him. His warm breath teased her skin. “Will you sit beside me, my lady?”

“With the greatest pleasure, my lord.”

The desire he felt was almost blinding.

Joan’s eyebrows elevated as she looked at Adele, and took a seat farther down the table from the dallying couple. Anyone seeing them could tell they had a claim upon each other.

Paddy and Ali came immediately to the sides of Adele and Glynis to hold their chairs and the seven people sat down cozily as if they had always dined together. As
Hawksblood held her chair for her, Brianna placed her hand upon his arm to steady herself and the moment she touched him, she needed steadying. Her brows went up, slanting the witch-mark on her cheekbone. “Why do you wear mail to the table?”

He pulled up the sleeve of his linen chainse to reveal the powerful, muscular arm. “I wear no mail, lady.”

Brianna caught her breath on a shiver. She was reeling from the nearness of him. She swept down her lashes to hide the wild desire she felt at the intensity of his dark look. Then she raised them halfway to give him a glimpse of it.

He smiled slowly, wickedly, dangerously.

His eyes lingered on her hair, which had been braided and looped with peacock ribbon. He anticipated that it would give him as much pleasure to take it down as it would to undress her, then he contemplated which he would do first. He began to fill and harden. He almost controlled it, then decided to enjoy the pleasure of arousal.

Everything about him fascinated her. His coloring was in complete contrast with the golden Plantagenets and the blond knights of England. Physically he was perfect and without scar. Almost, she amended, wildly curious about the black scimitar on his inside thigh. His past and his origins fascinated her also. He was an enigma, but she smiled inwardly, knowing she possessed the key to his mystery.
I’m in love! Why should I keep resisting him when it’s the last thing in the world I want to do? Christian Hawksblood de Beauchamp is the one with whom I want to spend my life! It’s preordained
.

Tonight, even the food upon Brianna’s trencher tasted like ambrosia. Then she realized that Christian had supplied it. “I am in your debt for providing this delicious venison, as are all in Bedford Castle. How shall I repay you?” She asked the provocative question deliberately.

His eyes were splinters of aquamarine. They crinkled in amusement, promising her he would show her how to repay him. They were so close, their thoughts were shared without words. “Taste the boar. She gave me the devil of a chase, then threatened to gore me.” The teasing light in his eyes implied she offered the same sort of challenge. He cut off a succulent chunk and held it to her lips.

Brianna took it with sharp white teeth, then licked her lips over the zesty morsel. “How fortunate that you managed to subdue your quarry. Do you always?”

“Usually. I enjoy the chase and I enjoy the kill.” Again Brianna shivered, and Hawksblood was aware of every tremor. “I’ve decided to make some changes here that I should apprise you of,” he said on a more serious note.

Brianna’s eyes laughed up into his. “I wondered when you would get around to seeking my permission.”

His intense look robbed her of breath. “I seek an endless number of things from you, lady, but none of them is
permission
!”

“Domination and submission is a game that holds little appeal for me,” she warned provocatively.

His smile flashed out. “That is because you have not yet experienced being dominated by me.”

“And never will,” she assured him.

“You shall, you shall,” he promised in a low voice.

Her throat went dry. Brianna gathered what wits he left her. “You spoke of changes?”

He experienced a surge of male satisfaction when she took a verbal step backward. “I’ve made Sir James Burke the new castellan of Bedford.”

She gasped. “Won’t Sir Neville Wiggs be angry?”

“Furious,” he conceded with a grin.

“Have you asked him to step down?” she asked, wide-eyed.

His brow rose. “Asked him? Hardly! I’ve ordered him to turn over his keys and accounts to Burke.”

“Will he obey you?”

A bark of laughter escaped him. “Implicitly. He’ll soon be too busy to be Bedford’s castellan. I’ve recruited him and his knights for the king’s army. Like the rest of us, Wiggs is about to go to war.”

Her shoulders drooped, her hand went to her throat. “How can you speak so eagerly of war?”

He shrugged and grinned. “It is what I have trained for all my life.”

Her eyes searched his. Her teasing banter fled. “I am filled with apprehension for you, Christian,” she whispered.

His eyes softened. “Sweet. Fear not, I shall return victorious.”

Brianna blushed, realizing she had let him see she cared. “Mr. Burke is a perfect choice. I approve wholeheartedly.”

Hawksblood experienced another surge of male power as she retreated to safer ground. “That is because you are as intelligent as you are beautiful.”

She cast him a tempting sidewise glance. “You think flattery will gain you aught?”

“Words are powerfully seductive. They can bring a woman to rapture.”

Her cheeks held a delicate tint. “I know naught of rapture,” she said primly.

The look he gave her was smoldering. A muscle hardened at his jaw. “You had better bloody well not.”

Her insides went weak at his possessive tone.

Joan saw the intimate progression as the pair parried and thrust in their verbal game of courtship. She realized Brianna was on the brink of the precipice with the edge crumbling beneath her feet.

“I would love to visit the stone quarries. Are they finished cutting yet?”

Two pairs of eyes stared at Joan blankly for a moment before they realized there were others about to observe what they did and said.

“We start cutting tomorrow, Lady Kent.”

“Oh, may we come and observe?” Joan asked prettily, and the other ladies looked at him hopefully.

“It is really no place for ladies.”

“Of course we shall visit the quarries. I am mistress here,” Brianna said firmly.

The ladies exchanged amused glances. It was unlike Brianna to assert her authority.

Hawksblood murmured outrageously, “Mistress … the word conjures such forbidden fantasies. I’m weak at the thought.”

Devil! Would the blush ever leave her cheeks? She dared not look into those mesmerizing eyes another moment. She lowered her lashes so that all she saw were his hands upon his goblet. It was a mistake. His hands were so attractively powerful, her throat ached for their touch. He had such an
animal strength she almost screamed to be touched by him. She was well snared. She’d scream if he touched her; scream if he did not!

Brianna reached for her own goblet to cool her throat. Bedford had no wine, only October ale for the men and cider for the ladies, but she found it a potent brew tonight. She felt alternately giddy and dizzy, yet she knew it was not cider alone that stole her senses.

He selected a pear tart, then carried the first spoonful to her lips. She allowed him to feed her, then licked the spoon lustily. It was Christian’s turn to shudder. Her lashes flew up so her eyes could meet his, but his gaze was riveted upon her mouth with such blazing desire she closed her eyes against his raw male sexuality.

The servers began to clear the tables and it was the signal for those in the hall to stretch their legs and regroup for conversation or dice. The men and women at the head table were loathe to part company. Adele had been telling Joan and Glynis and Hawksblood’s squires what it had been like here in the old days. Joan took up a beribboned lute and passed it to Brianna’s aunt. “Adele has promised to sing as she did when you were a little girl.”