Soldier of Fortune: The King's Courtesan (Rakes and Rogues of the Retoration Book 2) (24 page)

“Careful, Oakes, you are speaking of my wife.” Robert caught a barely perceptible flicker in the sergeant’s eyes and checked his own advance, stepping to the left and pushing the sergeant’s weapon off to the right, grunting with the effort as the other man charged.

He stepped back, laughing and cursing and lowered his sword. “God’s blood. You can barely use one arm, you’ve fingers missing, and you’re still better than most men half your age.”

“Better than you...” the sergeant said with a piratical grin.

Robert ignored him. Most sword fights were decided and ended with the first blow struck and were over in less than a minute, but it was also a battle of the mind. In longer engagements with a skilled opponent the crucial thing was to find the flow of battle and control it. Part instinct, part skill, the finest warriors could read an opponent and anticipate their moves. Baiting, distraction and provocation were all part of the game.

“How is she fitting in?” Robert asked of his companion as they circled each other warily. “The staff didn’t cause her too much trouble while I was away?”

“No indeed, Captain. The household is quite taken with her. Even Maggie has warmed to her considerably. It’s a happier house with her in it. She’s made it bright and warm and the staff are cheered.”

“Do they know who she is?”

“Them that do don’t care, my lord. She makes them feel important and valued. She makes the house feel like a home.”

“Mmm. She does have a way about her,” Robert agreed.

“Aye, she does at that. And what will you do when the king calls for her, Captain? He’s bound to be wanting her back.”

“Damn!” Robert hissed as the sergeant’s sword reached under his guard, slicing his shirt and nicking his skin. He hadn’t anticipated that question. He drove the sergeant back with a series of thrusts and feints, careful to maintain his focus. “I will do what I do best, Oakes. I’ll fight for her “

The contest had grown interesting, no longer routine, and each circled the other with a predatory gleam in his eye.

“You’d challenge the king over a woman?” That might not be well received, particularly after you opposed his father.”

“I will fight him for her affections. If he is any kind of gentleman he will honor the rules of engagement. You keep telling me I’m not very good with people, Oakes, but I seem to understand women better than you do. In the end, it is she who will decide. The one who wins her affections wins the woman.”

“I am proud of you, Captain. At last you’ve found a battle worth fighting. But what weapons will you use?” Oakes asked, testing Robert’s defenses with a cheeky grin. “Your vast riches and your legendary charm?”

“No, Sergeant.” Robert’s voice was calm, unruffled, his breathing easy—and his steady gaze never faltered. “I have something more reliable.... I will dazzle her with shrubbery.”

The sergeant slid forward attempting to seize an opening but his sword was caught by Robert’s
main-gauche-
a left-hand weapon used to disarm and parry- and flung away. He scratched his head and looked at his captain with a rueful grin. “Be damned, sir! You are one hell of warrior.”

Robert spread his arms wide and bowed. “As are you, sir.

“Did I just hear you make a jest?”

“I never jest, Oakes.” Despite his words, a hint of a smile played about Robert’s lips. “Shall we try it again?”

~

After the not so distant clang and clash of metal invaded Hope’s peaceful morning chasing all of her winged friends away, she stopped on the terrace to watch the sergeant and her husband train. She’d be a liar if she said she had no appreciation for a fine male form and her husband had an exceptional one. It was hard for her to take her eyes off of him. Years of fighting and practice had hardened and honed him, but he moved with the same fluid ease that had so captured her in London. He reminded her of one of the great cats she’d seen at the tower.

Some of the ladies at court practiced at swordplay for amusement and exercise—and because it seemed to excite a certain species of man. It was something she’d always wanted to learn.
I wonder if he’d teach me?
She imagined herself standing toe-to-toe with him, eyes intent, her movements matching his as they danced back and forth, anticipating, responding, thrusting, parrying, beaded with perspiration.....

As his supple body powered each thrust and twist she felt herself grow warmer. His half-opened shirt clung to his body and an errant strand of hair had escaped its queue. She watched in fascination, her breath quickening and her lips parted as if preparing to receive a kiss—

Damn the man! Kissing him was all she seemed to think about. It was her own fault for seducing him during the storm. In setting out to entrance and capture she had been caught herself. He’d made that clear with the ease with which he’d charmed her yesterday after barking at her and making her smack her head.

He is trying though. He apologized and took the time to explain a bit about his sister. His gift was the most thoughtful I have ever received...and last night
.... Last night he’d made both gift and apology seem more genuine, by not assuming they’d bought him access to her bed. He might have kissed her goodnight though. That would not have gone amiss. That slow but thorough kiss in the garden had been intoxicating. The feel of his lips as they—

There I go again!
With a snort of annoyance she turned her back on him and went inside.

~

After another half hour of vigorous swordplay the sergeant bowed out. “I’m not as young as I used to be, Captain, and you’ve got a fire in your belly today.”

“If not for you I’d have never survived this long, old friend,” Robert said, giving him a clap on the shoulder. There’s no other man I’d rather have at my back.”

Oakes watched in astonishment as the captain slung his sword over his shoulder and strode off across the lawn. Be damned if the man wasn’t whistling!

~

Hope was coming up the stairs from the kitchen an hour later with her nose in Hannah Woolley’s book
The Ladies Directory
. It was full of wonderful recipes, medical remedies and instructions for making perfumes—as well as information on running a household and dealing with awkward social situations. Unfortunately, there was no entry for managing pretend husbands and discarded lovers or—

She gave a shriek of alarm as she nearly smacked into her hulking husband, who was bounding down the stairs two at a time with a brace of hares. Though they both did their best to avoid the collision, Robert’s elbow caught her cheek just below the eye. She lost her footing and began to tumble backward but he managed to catch her wrist and right her. Her face began to swell immediately. Amidst curses and hastily muttered apologies he swept her off her feet and carried her upstairs, calling for Mrs. Overton as he went.

“There’s no need to make such a fuss, Captain. It’s just a bump on the head. Have someone fetch me a cold cloth and in a day or two I’ll be as good as new.” In truth it didn’t feel that bad. She felt more stunned and surprised than hurt, more shock than actual pain, though her eye watered and her face felt tight and heavy.

“Hush, elf. I’m a very large fellow and it’s a very big bump. I should have been more careful. I shouldn’t have been going so fast and I should have watched where I was going. Damn! Your cheek is black and blue and your eye is swollen shut. You’re going to have a very ugly bruise.”

“How ugly?” Her voice was a little anxious.

“Ugly enough to scare small children and weak-kneed adults.”

Her involuntary grin caused a jolt of pain that radiated through her teeth, temple, and jaw and she stifled a moan.

“I’m so sorry, love. I’ll make it better. I promise. “

He carried her with ease and despite the pain she let her head fall back against his chest. She was not a trusting soul by nature but she knew instinctively she could trust him to take care of her
. I think I’ve always known it
. It was an unaccustomed relief to let go and let someone else take charge for a change, and the comforting feel of his arms tight around her enveloped her in a delicious warmth that far exceeded any pain.

At least for the first twenty minutes. As Rose and her solicitous husband settled her into her bed with her head and shoulders raised on pillows, the pain and swelling steadily grew. The aching in her temple became so jagged it hurt to move and her jaw ached with a grinding pain that threatened to banish any other thought. He skin felt as if it were burning and stretched so tight that it might burst. She bit back a whimper as her husband, Rose and Mrs. Overton huddled over her, consulting on how best to proceed.

“Please close the curtains,” she rasped, her throat aching, perilously close to tears. Rose rushed to comply and then hurried away on a mission. The captain sat on the bed beside her. She gasped in pain as careful fingers brushed her tender skin.

“Hush now, love. This won’t take but a minute. Yours is not the first black eye I’ve dealt with. My men were always breaking their heads or running into a fist.” His voice was gentle and soothing. Expert fingers explored her eye, ears, jaw, teeth and cheek, checking for broken bones and assessing the damage. She flinched and his free hand gave her shoulder a slight squeeze. “Not many of them were as brave as you, though.”

She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t brave. Her head ached and her eye hurt and she couldn’t open it even so much as to blink, but it hurt too much to speak. She flinched as something cold and wet was laid across her eye and cheek. It surprised her for a moment, then it cooled her face and numbed her pain and she sighed, leaning into it, feeling a blessed wave of relief.

“Better, yes?” He smoothed back her hair and kissed her forehead.

“Better. Yes. Is it really so ugly?”

“Not so much as it will be tomorrow I’m afraid.” He replied without thinking and she gave a sad little groan.

“You’ll feel much better soon. Here comes your Rose with something to ease the pain and help you sleep.” He settled on the bed beside her, slipping a hand under her shoulders and easing her up, supporting her so she could drink an infusion of opium, saffron and nutmeg mixed in hot wine. Even that slight movement made her wince.

“I’ve brought ice, my lord, and more cloths. Mrs. Overton says the laudanum should keep her comfortable the rest of the night. I can stay with her now, if it pleases you.”

“Thank you, Rose, but it’s my fault she’s hurt and I’ll stay and see her to sleep.”

“Of course, my lord.” The little maid gave him an odd look as she left the room.

“She thinks you hit me,” Hope said dreamily, the potion already doing its work. She would never have dreamt yesterday morning that today her husband would be lying in her bed. She gave a little sigh and snuggled against him. Her head fit in the hollow between his neck and chin. Her movements were slow and languid, as if she were swimming in treacle. Despite all those hard muscles he felt comfortable and warm. She didn’t care what sounds came to her chamber tonight. She had never felt so safe.

“I did hit you,” he said ruefully, applying the ice-cold cloth to her cheek with a gentle pressure. An erection stirred as she wiggled and the soft curve of her hip settled tight against his groin.

“Mmm,” she agreed happily. “Not on purpose, though. I shouldn’t read on the stairs. Now I can’t read at all.” If a voice could pout, her last statement did just that.

“I really am sorry, love.” In truth, he was mortified. She looked as fragile as a child and he felt like a great bloody oaf. “I’ve never bruised a woman before.”

“I know, Robert. Don’t feel bad. It was a foolish accident on both our parts.” She yawned and wiggled again and he grunted. His breath quickened and his thighs and buttocks tightened. A surge of warmth spread through his body, awakening all his senses and swelling his shaft. That unruly organ surged forward, tingling from base to tip, and the constraints of his clothing acted as added stimulation, encouraging it more.

He shifted position but she shifted with him, and the warmth of her bottom only made things worse. He had never been so hungry for a woman. Despite her injury and obvious intoxication he wanted to claim her. To slip his hand under her gown and slide the length of her body, up her soft creamy thighs to brush her heated center, caress her sleek stomach, plump her breasts and tweak her nipples, making them ready for—

“I will forgive you completely if you tell me a story.” Her voice was barely a murmur.

“A story?” It took him a moment to regain his bearings.

“Mmm. To help me sleep,” she whispered.

He sighed in frustration. She was in this condition because of him but the damned woman might as well walk around naked. It wouldn’t make him any less on edge. She’d fired his blood and now even the sound of her voice left him aroused. He skimmed her cheek with his knuckles, pleased that it was cool to the touch. One long finger slowly traced her hairline from her temple, stopping to tuck an errant silk lock behind her ear.

“What story would you like, wife?” He nuzzled her neck, breathing in her scent. She smelled of rose and nutmeg and he longed to taste her.

Hope shivered and it wasn’t from the cold. She felt a delicious lassitude as his warm breath stirred her hair. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered lazily and she could feel a tender swelling in her loins. Her skin felt ripe and tender, pricking from her nipples to her toes but it was all as if it came from a thousand miles away. Maybe she was dreaming. “Robin Hood,” she said on a sigh. “
My
Robin Hood, not yours.”

“I am to do penance, then,” he said with a chuckle. “Very well. I will be sure to remember that you do not forget. But stop wiggling, love, and pressing your lovely behind close against me. You know full well what you’re doing.”

She smiled, on the brink of sleep.

“Has anyone told you about the Major Oak?”

His voice was a caress. He spoke in a rich soothing tone that made her think of chocolate. She shook her head ‘no.’ A dull shard of pain shot down her jawbone but it was too far distant to trouble her.