Authors: Dawn Chandler
Grant’s face lit with a knowing smile that made Peter want to smack him upside the head, perhaps with his sword. “I know what you said, my lord. I also know you want to check on your new bride.”
He shook his head in objection. “Of course, I want to check on her. I need to make sure she is not whipping the help or training the men.”
Grant burst into laughter. “Nothing as drastic as that. Amy told me she is out in the garden. They have spent the day out there, cleaning and planting new flowers.”
“
The garden, you say?” Peter nodded as if this information meant nothing to him and then finally gave up the charade. With a grin he turned toward the door. “Tell Miceal to keep my bath ready,” he said, pushing the door closed to shut out Grant’s good natured laughter.
Peter walked silently through the darkening night. The smells of freshly-dug earth tugged at his senses. The crew had made a remarkable difference in the mess of weeds the garden had been. Flowers, transplanted from the surrounding woods, were freshly planted and watered. They already dominated a large part of the area.
He stopped when he spotted Van leaning on the back wall of the garden, her head leaned back, eyes closed. Hiding behind a large tree, he watched her. Just watching her breathe in the cool night air seemed to charge him. The feelings of exhaustion lifted, the bath forgotten. Her chest rose and fell gently. Her face and neck were bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun.
Vanessa smiled, but her eyes remained closed. It excited him just to watch her relax. He was proud of what she had done in the gardens and happy that she had gone to such pains to restore his home...their home, he amended with a smile.
“
Vanessa.”
Peter jumped as Amy’s voice sounded close behind him.
Vanessa’s eyes remained closed. “Do not call me that, Amy.”
Peter wondered what she did want to be called.
“
It is time for you to come. Your bath is ready. The men will return soon for the evening meal.” There was no response and Amy disappeared. Peter listened to her soft footfalls until they were gone. Then Vanessa pushed herself away from the tall wall.
Peter ducked back behind the tree, trying not to even breathe. Silently he watched her. She walked slowly through the garden, stopping here and there to smell a newly planted flower.
He began to grin in anticipation as she drew closer and closer to his hiding place. A grunt was torn from her as he grabbed her, throwing her to the wet ground. He did not wait for her to regain her composure. He rolled on top of her and began to kiss her, firmly and passionately. Without encouragement, her lips parted.
His lust was a painful throb that screamed its need at him when she wrapped her arms around him and returned his kiss. Peter fumbled at her dress until the nuisance was out of his way and forced his way between her legs, opening them to him.
He pulled his painfully hard shaft free and drove it into her. He kissed her, tasting the sweat tang of sweat and dust. He drove himself into her harder and deeper as she clung to him. A fire grew within his stomach and settled in his loins. He panted and groaned, marveling at how good she felt beneath him. An explosion of fiery ecstasy filled him. He called her name into her mouth as he spilled his seed inside her.
Peter pulled off of her, kissing the tip of her nose. He adjusted his clothing and walked away. He turned at the edge of the garden. She had adjusted her clothing and was starting to rise. “I think, my dear, that ought to teach you that I am the master. You do not stand a chance against me.” He grinned as her eyes narrowed and her brows furrowed in irritation. “I will always be able to outsmart you. You may be able to un-cinch a saddle, but I am the master of the ambush.”
Seeing the anger that spread across her features, he ran for the doors, with her hard on his heels. He saw servants stop and stare, mouths agape, as he tore through the hall, but he ignored them. He knew they were shocked by his unaccustomed behavior. He was always so proper and restrained and now he ran, laughing, as the dark figure of the new lady of the castle chased after him.
Making it to his chambers first, he threw the key into the lock, laughing as he heard her banging on his door. He slipped into the bath as her footsteps faded.
Van was angry with him for taking advantage of her. She was also exhilarated from the passionate love making and the chase through the halls. With a wide and satisfied smile, she made her way down the servants’ stairs and out into the cool evening air.
The mortar of the castle walls was cool to her back as she leaned against it. The cool breeze wafted against her heated skin and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she saw light from the men’s barracks.
She watched the wavering light and a lonely feeling washed over her. “No,” she said gently to the night air. It was dangerous. She had seen their looks. She knew they were curious about her. She could not mess this up. There were too many people who now could be used against her.
She made up her mind and turned toward the servants’ door. Her hand froze on the latch. Emptiness enveloped her, weakening her resolve. There was an empty hole in her that her men had once filled. It was deep and dark, aching with a hunger that jabbed painfully at her, insistent on being fed.
Cursing herself, she carefully looked to make sure no one watched and raced across the courtyard to the barracks of her men. She had learned that once the king came for his men, hers would move into the castle and the barracks would be used for the new pages that would be arriving.
When she slipped silently through the door to the barracks, the men stopped and stared. Those undressed quickly covered themselves.
Richard rushed to her side. “My lady, is everything all right? Is something wrong?” There was concern in his voice. His eyes darted to the swords that lay beside each man’s bed.
“
Everything is fine, Richard. I have come to see if there is anything that you need. I am sure that Lord Grayweist keeps you well stocked with weapons and armor, but I know the men get overlooked. So if you need something. Shirts, blankets...”
The tension in his frame seemed to disappear. He smiled and shook his head in blatant exasperation. “This is too much, my lady, but we could use some more blankets.”
“
Stockings, my Lady.” Robert Dauphin shyly looked down at the three toes that stood out from his worn through stocking.
“
Blankets and stockings it shall be. If there is anything else, you will let me know. Now, hurry, we are getting ready to serve supper.” With that she walked out, the aching hole in her soul appeased, at least momentarily.
Peter watched her leave the men’s barracks from his chamber window. His stomach lurched in fear for her. Anything could happen to her out there. He did not know these men and her status would only go so far in protecting her. Fear gave way to anger.
Anger turned his thoughts to another possibility. She had gone to meet with one of the men. It was apparent that she was not totally happy with him. Perhaps, she was seeking comfort elsewhere.
He remembered his mother’s delicate frame, wrapped in the arms of one of his father’s warriors. He had been too young to understand. When she said she was only comforting him from a wound, he had believed her. He had promised not to tell his father. The night she left, she left with that man, and he had finally understood.
With a deep growl, he shoved his mother once more from his mind. She had been a constant visitor since his new wife had arrived and he was desperate to be rid of her. No matter how he tried to shut out the past, he could see the pain on his father’s tear-streaked face the night his mother had left. He could feel the anger that thrummed through his father when he realized that his man at arms was gone as well.
Peter’s anger and jealousy consumed him and, when Vanessa opened her chamber door, he was standing before it. She jumped guiltily. “What do you think you were doing out there?” he demanded. “It is not proper for a woman to be out with men, not at all.” He was angry even as he pulled her against him, but he had been frightened for her as well. He was relieved that she was safe, and now that she was in his arms, the idea of her taking a lover seemed farfetched.
“
You are right, my lord. I did not think.”
Peter had expected her usually self-righteous sermon, and her response shocked him. He pulled away and looked down into her contrite eyes, wondering what the change was.
“
I only wanted to see to the men’s needs. They are in need of blankets and stockings. It is new to me to have to worry about what my appearance in things will be.” She shrugged. “I am used to doing as I wish. I understand I have an image to uphold. I will try harder.”
Peter shook his head, once more amazed at her. He wanted to be angry, but could not. He wanted to chastise her, but found he could not do that either. Instead, he kissed her gently and left the room. He made his way to the dining hall, leaving her to bathe and change.
***
Ryan Deumount stalked along the halls of the castle in search of some feminine entertainment. He walked with confidence and bowed low as Peter walked past him, on his way, more than likely, to the dining hall for the evening meal.
If all went well Ryan would be done with his wench and at his table before the meal was served. He looked with loathing around the well-lit castle. He would be glad when his work here was finished and he could return to the man he had pledged his loyalty to long ago.
Eolian had sent him here six months ago when word had spread that Peter Lawston was going to start a training facility for squires. The great and awe inspiring Dragon Knight, the former king’s champion, Ryan thought sarcastically as he glanced at Peter’s retreating frame.
Ryan’s task was to watch and learn. Eolian thought it was a trick, that Peter would never leave the wars behind.
Ryan had recruited Gregory and Christopher, not long after he had arrived, to help him if the need should arise, but it had not. He had seen little that was of interest to Eolian and was convinced there would be nothing to learn.
He was looking forward to disappearing within a few days and informing Eolian that Peter had indeed gone soft and was giving up the battles, that there was nothing of interest here at Grayweist Castle.
He ran his hand along the rough stone of the walls as he made his way toward the servants’ quarters. He had hoped with the arrival of The Dark Knight’s men he would have something interesting to do. But unfortunately, the only thing that had followed was a mammoth woman who irritated her husband and squealed when she spoke.
He was sure Eolian would not be interested in her.
Footfalls came rushing around the corner. Ryan smiled as Amy Devant hurried into view. He felt his lust rise and his breathing increase.
He wanted the feisty little day maid more than he had wanted a woman in a long time. She hung on Devon like he was a god, but looked at Ryan himself as if he were scum on the pond.
He had approached her the day she arrived, but she had turned him down. He had grabbed her arm and she struggled, but fear thrummed through her so strongly he could feel it. He had hardened painfully. Then Devon had come along to her rescue.
He began to harden as he watched her approach confidently. She nodded to him politely and he returned it with a grin. She would fear him and that excited him. She would fight him despite the fear, and that excited him even more. As she walked by him, he gave a low bow and decided he didn’t want some malleable maid, he wanted the fight as well as the fear.
He shot his hand out and grasped her arm. She did not scream as he had worried she would, but she did begin to struggle. He yanked her back and shoved her against the rough wall. He kissed her clenched lips and pulled his dagger from its place on his hip.
He pushed himself against her, her breasts heaving against his chest. Pulling his lips from hers, he pressed the dagger to her long pale neck. He could see the fear in her wide eyes, could smell it on her as she trembled in his arms.
Ryan felt iron hands upon him as he was violently shoved into the wall beside her. He let out a loud grunt. His eyes widened in shock as he looked up into the enraged face of Lady Vanessa. He felt the cold steel of his own weapon pressed into his throat.
“
What the bloody hell do you think you are doing?” she asked him in a deep growl. “I should kill you where you stand.”
Fear invaded Ryan like an attacking army, but before he could even open his mouth to speak Amy was tugging on her arms.
“
Please, my lady, let him go. He is not worth it.” She tugged again, harder, but the steel grip on his tunic did not loosen. “Please, my lady. Let him go.”
Vanessa let him go and stared at him. “You are lucky, but if you ever come near her again, you will not be.”
With that, Vanessa grasped Amy’s arm and they walked away. Ryan slumped against the wall and took several deep breaths. “You have no idea who you are messing with, my lady,” he whispered to himself. “You will regret this.”
Peter watched Vanessa and Amy walk into the dining hall. He rose to his feet at the look of panic on Amy’s face and the rage on Vanessa’s. Amy rushed to Devon’s side but only shook her head when he leaned close to ask her a question that, Peter could only guess, would be the same as the one he would ask Vanessa when she sat beside him.