Margaret Moore - [Warrior 14] (19 page)

She made him squirm, and the movement of his hips goaded her even more.

His eyes opened again, gleaming in the dark. “Let go of me, Becca,” he said huskily.

“Perhaps I’m not finished with you yet, sir knight.”

“Let go of me, Becca,” he repeated, his voice low, but full of excitingly dangerous intent. “I can’t let you torture me like this any longer.”

“Am I torturing you?”

For an answer, he pushed against her hands, his strength easily overwhelming her. He levered himself up and then, holding her gently, swung her back onto the bed. “I think you should lie as still as possible,
my love,” he said softly as he moved to kneel between her thighs. “I don’t want to open that wound.”

She was about to make some sort of retort, but forgot when he placed his hands beside her head, leaned down and began to pleasure her breasts with his mouth and tongue.

Keep still? It was impossible. She moved instinctively, her body anxious for him.

Leaning his weight on one hand, he cupped her below with the other, moving in a slow rhythm that nearly undid her and made her part her legs even more. His hand shifted slightly lower, and a finger pressed down. As he continued to hold his palm firmly against her, her hips rose to meet it.

Tension grew. She wanted more of that pressure, more and more. She remembered this feeling, remembered what had happened at the end—that wonderful, amazing release.

Then he took his hand away. She opened her eyes, to find him looking down at her as he shifted his body forward. She felt him at the entrance.

“I’ll be gentle,” he promised again in his low, deep voice as he caressed her, making her crave him even more. “Relax, Becca, my love, my darling. Look at my face.” He shifted forward a little more. “Know that I love you, and that I always will.”

He thrust and was inside her. She gasped, feeling a moment’s pain, and not in her side.

“Is it too much? Should I stop?” he asked, his brow furrowing with concern.

“No. Don’t stop. Make me yours completely,
Blaidd. Please.” She reached up to pull him down for another soul-searing, passionate kiss.

Liberated by her words, propelled by her passion, Blaidd began to move.

In a moment, Becca forgot her discomfort. It was overwhelmed by the other, infinitely wonderful sensations.

Her body seemed completely alive, every part aware that he was loving her. They were joined, sharing the pleasure, the desire. Their bodies melded, their hearts linked, united in a glorious tension that made her moan and clench her eyes tight, that built and built beyond anything she’d felt before as he moved faster and faster, deeper, harder….

Until the tension shattered, replaced by waves of incredible, throbbing release. As she cried out, he stiffened, the cords of his neck taut, and a groan broke from his lips.

Panting, sweat-slicked, he laid his head against her breasts. “Oh, God, Becca,” he murmured. “I’ve never…that was…you’re…I love you.”

As her breathing returned to something akin to normal, she brushed back his hair and smiled. “I’ve never felt anything like that, either, and I love you, too.”

He raised himself on his elbows and glanced at her bandage. “I hope I didn’t make you start bleeding again. I should check. If I have, Dobbin will never forgive me.”

“If you did, I don’t mind. And Dobbin will certainly forgive you. He likes you.” She gave Blaidd a
naughty smile and wiggled a little, still enjoying the sensation of him inside her. Very much. “I could always tell him you’ve more than made up for it. Surely he wouldn’t be angry then.”

“If he found out we did this before we’re married, he might really want to hurt me.”

“Then I won’t tell him.”

Blaidd moved away from her and gently examined the bandage. “No harm done, it seems.”

“I think a very great harm’s been done,” she said with mock severity. “How can I possibly let you leave this bed now without doing that again?”

“You want to do that exact same thing, my love?” he asked with apparent gravity.

Despite where they were and what they’d just done, she began to blush. “What else could we do?”

“I do know a few other things,” he purred, lying back beside her and lazily stroking her hip.

Although her body was already responding, she tried to look baffled. “Other ways?”

“I’ll be happy to demonstrate.”

“Now?”

“Why not? Do you have something more pressing to do?”

“There is sleep.”

“Well, if you’d rather….”

She tugged him down for a kiss that told him quite plainly that she didn’t want to sleep.

K
ynan stood outside the door to Lady Rebecca’s chamber and hesitantly raised his hand to knock. It wasn’t his place to rouse her, but he didn’t know what else to do. It was already well past dawn, and Blaidd and Lady Rebecca were supposed to have their audience with the king soon. He couldn’t find Blaidd or the lady’s maidservant anywhere, and somebody had to make sure she was ready when the time came.

He rapped tentatively. No sound came from behind the door.

This was ridiculous. Surely she couldn’t fault him for trying to ensure she wasn’t late for a royal audience.

He knocked a little louder and called out, “My lady, are you awake?”

What was that?
He leaned closer to the door and strained to hear. “My lady?”

It sounded like…like a struggle. Without stopping to think, he drew his sword and charged into the room.

To see his brother hunched over, one leg in his breeches, looking up at him, red in the face, and the lady covered by only a sheet, staring in surprise.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry!” Kynan gasped as he turned and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him. His sword dangling loose in his hands, he leaned backward—then nearly fell flat when the door opened behind him.

He managed to get his balance and, turning, found himself face-to-face with Blaidd, now in his breeches and unlaced, unbelted tunic. He held his boots in his left hand, his sword belt slung over his arm.

Lady Rebecca was smiling and somewhat more covered by the bedclothes. With her waving brown hair loose about her slender shoulders and that smile, Kynan could better understand what his brother saw in her.

At the moment, however, it was rather clear Blaidd was in no mood for a genial chat about women. He shooed Kynan outside and closed the door behind them. “You should have waited for somebody to say you could come in,” he growled.

“Yes, well, I’m sorry, but it’s getting late and I couldn’t find the maid, or you, and I didn’t want the lady to miss her audience with the king—”

Blaidd gasped. “Damn me, the king!” He looked out the nearest window. “What o’clock is it?”

“Nearly nine.”

“Damn, damn, damn!” Blaidd muttered as he dropped his boots and hurried to buckle on his belt. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

“I might have if I’d known where you were.”

Blaidd paused in his buckling and flushed not with anger, but embarrassment. “I didn’t know I was, um, going to be staying the night here,” he explained before he bent down to put on his boots.

Kynan regarded him gravely. “There’s something else.”

Blaidd raised his eyes. “What?”

“Our parents arrived at dawn.”

Blaidd straightened and stared as if his brother had just announced the Second Coming was at hand. “They’re
here?
Now? Why?”

“To visit me.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me they were coming?” Blaidd demanded as he tugged on his other boot.

“Because I didn’t know when exactly they’d be arriving. They made good time, but they could just as easily have arrived a sennight from now.”

He was right, of course. No one could say with any degree of certainty how long it would take to get to London from their estate in the marches. There were too many variables: the weather, the roads, a problem with the horses.

“Maybe it’s just as well,” Blaidd decided. “The sooner they meet the woman I’m going to marry, the better.”

Kynan stared. “She agreed?”

Blaidd grinned from ear to ear. “Aye, she did.” He clapped his brother on the shoulder, making him stagger. “And after talking with her and…well, other
things…I’m hopeful Henry won’t object. Where are Mother and Father now?”

Kynan looked as if he had a hundred questions, but had second thoughts about asking them. “They’re with the Fitzroys.”

“I haven’t got time to meet them before my audience. Tell them I’ll see them after.” Blaidd turned to go back into Becca’s room. “And don’t tell them about Becca and me. I want to do that.”

Kynan spread his hands and backed away. “No chance of that, brother. I’ll leave that little bit of news solely to you.”

Becca smiled lazily as Blaidd came back into the chamber. “I hope he wasn’t too upset,” she said as Blaidd approached the bed. “Your brother looked as if he might swoon with embarrassment.”

Blaidd leaned over and kissed her lightly. “He’ll get over it. But now, my love, my wife, get up, or we’re going to be late for our audience with the king.”

She started to gingerly shift toward the edge of the bed, for her side was rather sore, when something in his expression made her hesitate. “Something else has happened, hasn’t it?” she asked warily. “What? You’re not sorry we—”

“I’m certainly not sorry for making love with you or wanting to marry you,” he said firmly as he caressed her cheek. “It’s just that my parents have arrived. I wasn’t expecting them, to say the least.”

“Oh.” Becca shrank back a bit. She hadn’t thought
about Blaidd’s parents, or the rest of his family, and how they might react to his announcement that he was marrying a woman they surely would think most unsuitable, in a host of ways.

He gave her a smile and chucked her under the chin. “Don’t worry, my darling. Once they meet you, they’ll understand everything. Now we’d better make ourselves presentable.”

Becca nodded and tried not to show her fear.

There was a flurry of knocks on the door, then Meg came rushing in. “Oh, my lady, I’m so sorry to be late. I never meant—”

She skittered to a halt and her mouth formed an O as she stared at Blaidd, then Becca, undressed and still in bed.

“I’ll be waiting for you in the larger room, Becca. Be as quick as you can, my love,” Blaidd said calmly as he nodded a greeting to Meg, whose shocked expression slowly changed into a delighted smile.

When he was gone, Meg bounded toward Becca like an excited puppy. “Oh, he’s going to marry you, isn’t he? I knew he would! He’ll make you so happy!”

Becca could hardly disagree, so she smiled, then said with some attempt at being stern, “Where have you been?”

Meg immediately calmed down, and her cheeks colored. “Oh, me, my lady? I’ve been…sleeping. Yes, I fell asleep and didn’t wake in time.”

“Where were you sleeping?”

Her blush deepened. “In the palace, of course.”

“Alone?”

“It wasn’t like that, my lady, honest!” she cried, wringing her hands. “We was just talking, Trevelyan Fitzroy and me, and we were both tired and next thing I knew, I’m waking up with my head on his shoulder. He was just as surprised as I was.”

“Trevelyan Fitzroy?”

Meg nodded. “He’s a gentleman, my lady, like Sir Blaidd. He never tried anything impertinent. He just wanted to talk, is all. Really. And I wouldn’t let him do more than that, anyway.”

“I’m hardly in a position to cast stones, Meg,” Becca noted as she eased herself out of bed. “Now help me get into my sister’s finest gown. I have to look my best to meet the king.”

And Blaidd’s parents, who might never see her as anything other than the ruin of their son.

Her arm linked through Blaidd’s, Becca tried not to reveal any nervousness as they approached the king’s hall. She would have been much more tense if this had happened before last night; at least now she was sure of Blaidd’s love, and secure in the knowledge that he wanted to spend his future with her.

“I still think it would be best if you let me speak for you,” Blaidd said as they drew near the heavy carved doors guarded by two chain-mail-clad soldiers. “Of course you should reply to the king if he asks you a direct question, but otherwise, leave me to argue your case. I know him, after all, and he trusts me.”

Becca nodded. At the moment, she doubted more than a croak would come out of her throat if she tried to talk.

After running his gaze over them, one of the guards recognized Blaidd and opened the doors. Becca took a deep breath and willed herself not to look concerned as she limped into the hall.

She barely stifled a dismayed gasp. There were so many people! Men and women filled the large chamber, all dressed in incredibly rich garments of bright reds and greens and blues, with jewels and gold and silver sparkling around their necks and on their fingers. The air was permeated with perfumes. What seemed like a mile ahead were two thrones on a canopied dais, and seated there were the king and his queen. He wasn’t very old, but she was even younger, and obviously pregnant.

As they moved forward through the crowd, Becca felt woefully underdressed and plain and pathetic, despite the fact that she was wearing Laelia’s most lovely gown. She was very aware that Blaidd looked magnificent in his black velvet tunic, black breeches and polished boots, and he carried himself as if he were a king. He seemed to belong there, while she…she belonged back at Throckton Castle, giving orders to Rowan in the kitchen.

Blaidd reached over and covered her hand with his. She glanced up at him, to see him smiling with love and confidence. She took comfort from that and felt a little better, until he checked his steps.

She followed his gaze. Trevelyan Fitzroy stood be
side a man who must be Trevelyan’s brother, and beside them was an older couple who were watching them both with an intensity even more disconcerting than Blaidd’s could be.

“Those are my parents,” he said in a whisper, and she immediately saw the likeness between Blaidd and his father. Blaidd would look exactly like the man in twenty years—older, wiser, but still very much a warrior, albeit with iron-gray hair. Blaidd’s mother was a comely woman who must have been even more beautiful than Laelia in her youth.

“Welcome back, Sir Blaidd!”

When the king called out his greeting, Becca focused her attention on him and the woman beside him. Continuing toward the dais, Becca and Blaidd bowed to the king and queen.

“Greeting, my liege,” Blaidd said, smiling. “Queen Eleanor. Motherhood becomes you, Your Majesty.”

The queen smiled, and who could blame her? Blaidd’s deep voice and tone made his observation a great compliment.

Henry likewise looked delighted, but not for long. “I’ve been apprised of the unfortunate doings at Throckton Castle,” he said. He turned his attention to Becca. “This, I take it, is Lord Throckton’s younger daughter?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. This is Lady Rebecca, a most loyal subject.”

“So you say, Sir Blaidd.”

“So I
know,
Your Majesty.”

The brow over Henry’s drooping eyelid rose in inquiry. “You have proof, have you?”

“Her presence here, and her willingness to swear any oath of loyalty you choose.”

“Is that so, my lady?”

“Yes, sire.”

Henry looked back at Blaidd. “It could be, Sir Blaidd, that she is as subtle as her father and thinks to trick me by coming here. And a sworn oath is only words.”

King or not, this man insulted her honor by implying that she would break her word. Becca forgot what Blaidd had said about keeping quiet, and stepped forward. “Majesty,” she said firmly, “I assure you that I am an honest woman, and that I hold my honor as dear as any person in this court.”

Henry’s brow rose higher. “Do you, indeed, my lady?”

“Indeed, I do, and in keeping with that statement, I will confess that I am
not
Lord Throckton’s daughter.”

An excited, curious murmuring filled the hall, and the king and queen looked equally dumbfounded. Blaidd fidgeted beside her, but she continued regardless. “I am the daughter of Lord Throckton’s late wife and another man.”

“You would tell this entire court that you are a bastard?” Queen Eleanor demanded incredulously. “For what purpose?”

“To prove that I am what I claim, an honest woman.”

“Then you have no claim to Lord Throckton’s property or movable goods.”

“None at all.”

“You will not be a ward of this court and you’ll be left with nothing.”

“And thus have no reason to covet power, since my illegitimate birth and lack of wealth means I’ll never command any, either.”

Henry’s eyes lit with comprehension. “Ah, a clever argument.”

“And the truth, Your Majesty. I pledge it with my life, as I vow that I am your faithful subject.”

“You have nothing to fear from Lady Rebecca, my liege,” Blaidd confirmed, reaching out to take her hand. “There’s more, sire. I ask your permission to marry this lady.”

Another murmur of surprise rose from the assembly.

“Did you not hear her, Sir Blaidd?” Queen Eleanor demanded. “She is
not
a lady.”

“By title, no,” he agreed. “But in every other way, she is, and therefore worthy to be the wife of one of your knights.”

Henry looked a little peeved and ignored Becca as he addressed Blaidd. “You heard how things stand. She has no dowry. No property at all. No title. It will be like marrying a peasant.”

“Your Majesty, may I remind you that my father was born a peasant? However, if you think she is too far beneath me, I’ll forswear my knighthood. I’ll be your loyal subject and dutiful soldier under your com
mand, but I will reject my rank, and the privileges thereto.”

A gasp went up from the assembly, followed by more shocked murmurs, but Blaidd ignored them. “I’ll gladly do so, Your Majesty, if that is what I must do to be allowed to marry her.”

Becca tensed, waiting for the king and queen to protest and voice what everyone else in the hall must be thinking: that he couldn’t be serious. That no knight would willingly renounce his title for a penniless bastard who limped.

Henry’s brow furrowed and his grip on the arms of his throne tightened. “You are telling your king to whom you have sworn to be loyal that if I do not allow you to marry this woman, you will leave my court?”

“Although I’ll still be loyal to you with my life, you’ll give me little choice.”

“You would give your king an
ultimatum?
”

“No, Majesty,” Blaidd replied. “I will always be at your disposal, but you must choose whether or not it will be as a courtier or a humble soldier. My absence at court will be no great loss to you, my liege. You have many capable men about you, Englishmen of wise and good counsel.”