Joanna Davis - Knights In Shining Armor (7 page)

              He pulled the covers up and looked at her nakedness at his leisure. Lust flooded him anew at the sight of such lush perfection. He smiled and started kissing her body, sliding under the covers. He kissed her silky stomach, then dipped his head to her thighs, sweetly parted in her sleep. He nuzzled her soft nether lips, kissing her softly before sliding his tongue along the line of her opening.

              She moved in her sleep and he smiled to himself, hoping to wake her with pleasure. He hadn't had a chance to make her climax last night. He knew that she'd never been brought to pleasure before. This morning, he planned to change that. She moaned softly. He teased her gently with his tongue until he heard a squeak of surprise above him. It was less than a moment before he felt her hands on his head pushing him away.

              He came up laughing, throwing the covers off and leaning down to kiss the outraged look on her face.

              "What's the matter sweeting? Don't you like my kisses?"

              She pinched her mouth shut and glared at him. He raised his eyebrows and started kissing his way back down her body.

              "Rowan- don't!"

              He kissed her right breast and then her left.

              "Perhaps if you call me by my proper title I will listen to your arguments."

              He looked up and saw the heartbroken look on her face. He lifted himself up to kiss her lips again.

              "Sweeting, I am only teasing."

              The look of confusion on her face was adorable.

              "Don't deny me this Emeline. Let me give you pleasure. Last night I didn't take the time to make love to you properly. It's nothing shameful or unnatural I promise you."

              She bit her lip, thinking for a moment. Finally she nodded. Sweet relief washed through him.

              "Hmmmm… wise decision."

              He winked at her and busied himself beneath the sheets.

**********

              Emeline went back to her chamber to bath and change after he finally gave her leave to go. She was sore from the vigorous lovemaking he'd introduced her to this morning. She flushed, recalling the way he'd touched her with his mouth and hands before taking her again. This time she'd felt things that had been absent the first time. Strange and wonderful things. This time she'd felt like she was going to fly off the bed like a bird.

              He'd said things too, kind things about taking care of her always. She wondered what that meant. It had the sound of an oath, the kind he used to make when he told her he loved her. But he hadn't said that. He'd said that he enjoyed her. That wasn't the same thing at all, was it?

              Magda and one of the maids appeared with buckets of hot water for her bath. They filled it halfway and the younger woman disappeared to fetch two more. Magda helped Emeline disrobe, clucking her tongue as her bruised skin came into view.

              "He was too rough with ye."

              "No. He wasn't Magda. I swear to you."

              "Ye didn't fight him, did you?"

              "No Magda."

              "Hmph. Smart girl. Do ye love him?"

              Emeline didn't reply. How could she? If she did still love him after everything he had done to her this past week, after he'd ignored her pleas for help all those years ago, then she was a fool. But perhaps she was a fool after all. She knew that she was giving him even greater power of her but she couldn't help it.

              Power he could use to hurt her.

              The old woman held her hand as she stepped into the tub. She sighed as she leaned back and let Magda wash her hair. It felt heavenly. The soothing water did nothing to assuage her turbulent mind though.

              She stayed in the water until her fingers wrinkled. Eventually though, she had to drag her body from the bath to be ready for midday meal. Magda had informed her that she was expected there by the new master.

             
Master.

              Rowan was that, in a way her husband never had been. He controlled her now. Her body and her soul. She decided that she better not let him know it. She stood quietly as Magda lifted a soft pink colored wool dress over her head, lacing it tightly. The old woman had her sit while she braided her damp hair into a single long plait. Then she stood and followed Madga down the tower stairs.

**********

              Rowan smiled warmly as Emeline entered the great hall. She was glowing on this fine autumn day, dazzling in a soft pink dress. He gestured her over to him, indicating the empty seat at his side. When she sat down, he pulled her close to his side and planted a kiss on her. He had to stop himself from lingering over her mouth.

             
Sweet Jesu, she'd woven a spell over him!

              He'd been able to think of anything else but taking her back to bed in the little time that they'd been apart.

              She sat stiffly beside him, cheeks pink with embarrassment. He knew it bothered her that everyone knew he'd taken her to his bed, but the thought filled him with pride. He wanted everyone to know.

              "Good morning sweeting."

              "Good morning my lord."

              He grinned, liking the sound of his title on her lips. It was the first time she'd called him that. The servants brought bread and cheese. Emeline selected an apple from the platter and bit into it. He ate heartily, enjoying the feel of her pressed against his side. He wondered if it was too soon to take her back to bed again before dinner. She might be tender still. He glanced sideways at her, remembering the way he's made her cry out in ecstasy with his mouth. He'd do that again, and soon.

              The other men were filtering in from the barracks. Kenneth and Wyeth were late to the table. Kenneth was at his best, jesting and acting like nothing had happened.

              "How are you this fine day my lady?"

              "I am well thank you. And you sir?"

              "I slept like a baby!"

              Wyeth snorted.

              "Aye, one with the colic and a tendency to pass gas."

              Kenneth elbowed him hard as Rowan looked on affectionately. Things were nearly back to normal between them. The old man would forgive him when he saw how happy he would make Emeline. Kenneth was in a fine mood this day as well. He'd seen him flirting with Lisbeth, the plump girl who worked in the kitchens. The girl had seemed pleased by the knight's attentions.

              He longed to make Emeline look on him as favorably. She'd glow with the pleasure he'd give her each and every night and sparkle from the jewels and fine gowns he was already planning to buy her. She was accustomed to fine things, and he'd see to it that she was spoiled like she'd been by her doting parents when they first met.

              He sighed deeply at the end of the meal, loath to leave her but he had letters to answer and soldiers to train for the King's service. He kissed her hand gallantly as he stood.

              "Until later, sweeting."

**********

              The next few weeks were a blur for Emeline. Rowan didn't revert to his old behavior as she feared. What had caused the change, she couldn't be sure, but it made things even more confusing for her. He was kind and solicitous, even doting on her now during the day, and at night, he took her again and again with a tender urgency. He cared for her, of that she had no doubt. But not in the way he had before.

              Unfortunately, she was losing her heart to him once again, if she'd ever had it back. She knew it was a dangerous game they played. She could sense instinctively that he was holding her at arms length emotionally, even as he used her body night after night. She had a suspicion that he saw her as a pleasant diversion, a pretty thing to be enjoyed, nothing else.

              The only calm she found was in the aftermath of their stormy lovemaking. When he held her in his arms, both of their hearts racing like rabbits, their skin cooling at last, she could pretend that they had run away together as she'd always wished they had. That her knight had come for her at last.

              All too quickly reality would set in. She was his layman, not his wife. He was her master, not her loving husband. Her status of the lady of the manor had changed forever. Her servants might treat her with the same cheerful respect but the way the soldiers looked at her made her stomach turn. Knowing, lustful glances were cast her way constantly. Not by Wyeth and Kenneth of course. They'd become her champions, setting her at ease when she longed to run away during meals in the great hall.              She headed there now to prepare the evening meal. The only other peace she got was in hard work. As a result she had increased her duties as chatelain tenfold. Truth be told, the castle had never looked better.

              She felt pride her in accomplishment, despite the sour thought that lingered in the back of her mind.

              Everything she did now would soon be enjoyed by another woman.

              His wife, whoever that might be.

              It was hard not to resent that cold hard truth.

              The other woman was blameless in all of this of course. It wasn't the fault of his bride to be. Emeline knew wouldn't subject another woman to her presence in the Lord's bed. She'd have to leave, well before the wedding was to take place.

              The trouble was, she no longer wanted to. As unwanted as his attentions might have originally been, she was starting to crave them. With her body, and with her heart. She might not have his love but what he'd given her the past weeks was feeding her desire for him.

              Perhaps if she stayed just a little while longer he would come to truly love her again… She hated the weak voice in her head that kept whispering 'it's not so bad.' She only wished there wasn't another person involved. She'd given up her pride and her maidenhood to him, but she would not infringe on his marriage to another, no matter how much she loved him.

              Love. There was that word again.

              She sighed and turned down the hallway to the kitchens. There was no use lying to herself. She loved him still.

              "Some men have all the luck. That gorgeous creature in his bed, and another rich bride on the way! Imagine having that honey pot to dip into every night!"

              "Sweet Jesu, the lady is a sweet piece."

              "She's not a lady anymore!"

              Emeline froze in the hallway. A group of soldiers were jesting with each other bawdily. They were speaking about
her
.

              "What a beauty. And those tits! The things I'd like to do to her."

              "Mayhap he'll pass her along when his bride comes."

              "He can't very well keep them both can he? He said as much the other day."

              "He did? Oh please let him give her to us. I'll take her six ways from Sunday."

              "Not if I get to her first!"

              They laughed and made another joke but Emeline wasn't listening. The soldiers coarse words were echoing in her head.

             
He's said as much the other day.

              She had to leave.

              Today.

             
Now.

              Her letters to her Aunt had gone unanswered thus far but she could no longer wait. Emeline was about to storm back up to her room for her cloak when she realized that she needed food. No one would question the former lady of the manor if she took what she would need to survive. She hurried to the kitchen and took an old grain sack, filling it with a loaf of fresh bread, a small metal cup and a wedge of cheese. She tucked a wine skin under her arm and hurried up the stairs to her chamber. Her heart pounding wildly in her chest, she grabbed her cloak, jewelry, a small dagger and a clean dress. Shoving all into a blanket and tying a knot, she took a last look at her room.

              It had been her prison for so long. It no longer mattered that the last year had been near bliss without her husbands cruelty. Nor did the pleasure she found in Rowan's bed change the cold hard facts she faced. Now he too had the ability to hurt her, but his power was far deeper. He could break her heart.

              Not could. He would. She closed her eyes briefly. If she was truthful, he already had.

              She hurried down the stairs to the lower level. She would take the secret tunnel leading to the sea. She was about to go without a backward glance before she remembered her sweet friend. Rowan might take it out on Bessie if Emeline disappeared. She knew he would not be happy when he found her missing… Who knew what he might do? Shivering at the thought, she stowed her bundled goods and hurried outside to fetch the goat.

**********

              Rowan was drilling his soldiers when he caught a glimpse of long dark hair from the corner of his eye. He smiled but Emeline didn't see him. She was hurrying off somewhere, her cloak pulled down around her face. When he saw her with her goat, he grinned, imagining the night ahead.

              Tonight he would tell her that he'd written to the king, asking that he postpone his wedding. He wouldn't tell her everything though. He wouldn't tell her that he also asked about breaking his betrothal contract and taking Emeline as his wife instead. Even if he couldn't trust her completely, even if she was a spoiled, vain creature, he couldn't bear to let her go or see her distressed by being made into his second woman.