Mary Gillgannon (21 page)

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Authors: The Leopard

Tags: #Historical Romance, #Knights

BOOK: Mary Gillgannon
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Her hair tumbled down. She fanned her fingers through it and smoothed out the twists and crimps. Her hair had grown since she’d left the priory. It was nearly to her waist now, and it felt heavy, uncomfortable. It swirled around her shoulders like the waves of a frothy golden sea.

“Sweet God in heaven. You’re beautiful beyond belief.”

Astra looked away, overcome. There was such intimacy between them. A current of emotion seemed to flow through the very air in the room. This man had glimpsed her naked, but he was acting as if he had never seen her before. She trembled to think what it would be like when he kissed her. The thought prompted Astra to remember her purpose. She would not succumb to him without some assurance of her future.

“Richard—I must speak with you.”

He walked to her slowly, smiling faintly. She could see the sheen of sweat on his brow, the wetness of his teeth between his parted lips. She could smell him.

When he was very close, he grasped a handful of her hair and brought it to his lips.

“Talk,” he said.

Twenty-three

H
is body was so close, throbbing, hungry. His eyes were like deep, dark pools of desire. She wanted to drown in them. Instead, she pulled away from the edge.

“I heard you were a hero in Wales.”

There was surprise in his eyes, then a flicker of some thing else—anger, bitterness. “Aye. If you consider bloodshed heroic.”

She gave him a questioning look. Richard’s mouth twitched and then spread into a grim smile. “Oh, the King is well pleased with my work. The rumor is he finally means to reward me with something more than empty words.”

Astra took a deep breath. This was her chance. If her plan succeeded, Richard would at last have the land and power he desired. Then he could marry her!

She met Richard’s eyes, smiling tremulously. “It is said the Queen is fond of me, and I know she has great influence over her husband’s decisions. Perhaps if I went to the Queen and asked for her help, she would speak to Henry on your behalf.”

Richard’s voice was soft. “You would do that? You would solicit the Queen for my sake?”

“Of course, Richard. I love you. I would do anything for you, anything so we could be together.”

He reached out and took her face in his hands. “My sweet, darling Astra. How generous you are... and how innocent. Think you the King hands out castles every day?”

“I... I’ve been told he does, to his relatives at least. Why not to one of his loyal knights?”

Richard removed his hands, and his face grew hard. “Why? Because I’m no one. I have no fine family behind me, nor does the royal blood of Henry III or Eleanor of Provence flow in my veins.”

Astra stepped back, startled by the bitterness in his voice. “But you said... you said the rumors...”

“They are rumors, nothing more. I don’t believe for a moment Henry really means to award me property. It could be years before he decides I’ve earned anything beyond a fond pat on the head.”

“But if I went to the Queen...”

Richard shook his head. “No. It’s very kind of you to offer, Astra, but I won’t have you groveling to Eleanor.”

“I don’t mind, Richard. I would do anything I could to help you.”

“No! I don’t trust the Queen, and I won’t be beholden to her as well as Henry.” He gave Astra a sharp, probing look. “I don’t want you to become involved in court politics. The things I’ve done are bad enough. I won’t have you reduced to the level of the rest of the she-vipers who surround the Queen.”

“But I want to help you,” Astra said in a frustrated voice. “Why won’t you let me?”

“Have you considered, Astra, that my pride might be involved? I don’t want a woman, any woman, to go begging for favors in my name!”

Astra stared him. Richard was surely the most exasperating man she’d ever met. “Does your pride matter more than our future? You’ve told me you won’t wed me until you have a demesne of your own, yet you refuse to do all you could to reach your goal of possessing property!”

Richard’s dark eyes met hers fiercely. “If you knew the things I’ve already done to win Henry’s favor... if you only knew...”

“I care not what you have done in battle. I want to know what you mean to do now, here in London, to gain Henry’s goodwill.”

Richard spoke through gritted teeth. “I will bide my time and hope that Henry doesn’t send me off somewhere else to fight for him.”

“No,” Astra breathed softly. She looked down at the fresh rushes strewn on the floor. A cold dread moved in her veins. The thought of Richard being sent off to war again was nearly unbearable.

“Astra, I don’t want to fight with you. I brought you here so we could be alone... so we could enjoy each other.” She looked up. The fierceness had left Richard’s face. His expression was tender as he moved toward her.

Astra felt her body responding to his nearness. If he gathered her into his arms, she would be lost. She took a step back. “Will you wed me before Henry sends you away?”

Richard’s face softened even more. “I would if I could, but it is not possible. I have no land, no money, no prospects. I spent nearly my last penny on this room.”

“But surely you have some material wealth. I saw the chest in your tent, the chess set, the jewels and weapons.”

“Booty, aye, I have some booty from the wars I fought. But it’s not enough to buy a decent piece of land, let alone pay to build a manor.”

“There is the manor Lord Fitz Hugh will give me,” Astra whispered hopefully.

“It could not support us in anything but modest comfort. I want you to have much more than that, beloved. Therefore, I cannot wed you until I amass my fortune.”

“Yet you refuse to do all that you could to win the land and property you covet. You refuse to let me go to the Queen for help!”

Richard’s jaw set in a hard line. “I’ve told you, I don’t want you begging to that bitch.”

“She’s not a bitch! Eleanor’s been nothing but kind and sweet to me.”

“She’s using you, Astra,” Richard said coldly “You’re simply too naive to see it.”

“And you’re too stubborn and pigheaded to believe the human heart is capable of true affection.”

“Perhaps,” Richard said softly. “Although you’ve done much to change my mind in that matter.” There was an amused glint in his eyes, a half-smile on his lips. “Beloved.” His hands sought her waist, drawing her to him. “We did not come here to fight. We can discuss this later.”

His lips brushed her hair; his arms embraced her possessively. Tears welled in Astra’s eyes. He felt so warm and strong and safe. She wanted so much to give herself to this man. But she could not, not yet. “No!” she cried, pushing his hands away. “I won’t let you touch me! Not until I know you mean to wed me.”

“Of course I will wed you. I want no other woman.”

“When?”

“I’ve told you, lovey, when—”

“...when you think you are wealthy enough,” Astra finished. “Aye, you have told me.” She met his gaze scornfully, then looked away.

She stared at the lovely room. Richard had brought her here for one purpose and one purpose only. He meant to seduce her, to take her maidenhead without offering her the security of marriage. He obviously believed she was so in thrall to his kisses and caresses he could manipulate her at will. His arrogance made her furious.

“You are mistaken, Richard. I am not some cheap doxy you can have with your smug smile and a soft bed. I won’t sell myself for such a mean price.”

Richard reached out to soothe her. She jerked back and raised her chin defiantly. “You told me once all women are whores. So be it. If you want to bed me so badly, you must meet my price. It will be marriage or nothing, Richard. If you care more for your stupid, vainglorious ambitions than me, you will have to sleep in your fancy, silk-covered bed by yourself!”

Richard stared at her a moment, then chuckled. “Good God, you’re a surprising little wench. I never knew you had such fire. It must be the hint of red in your hair that makes you so enticingly passionate. It is near rose-colored between your legs. Such an exquisite warm shade that makes me want to...”

“Stop! You’re lewd! Disgusting! Vile!”

Richard laughed. “There’s no need to call me names. You’re no saint either, Astra. You do flaunt your body. You wear tight gowns and use your lovely blue eyes and sweet smile to make men sigh for you.” Richard reached out and gently stroked her cheek. “I know you want me as much as I want you. When I touch you, your skin grows hot and your mouth gets wet.”

His hand moved down to caress her neck. A shiver rippled through her as his fingers sought the sensitive skin beneath her hair. “You cannot deceive me, Astra. I’ve sucked your luscious nipples, and I’ve tasted your sweet, lovely cupid’s nest, and I know that you ache for me as badly as I do you. You wouldn’t have come here otherwise.”

Astra forced herself to look away from his dark, hypnotic gaze. If she gave in to him now, she would prove him right about herself... about women... about everything.

She faced him with determination. “It’s clear I was mistaken about you,” she pronounced coldly. “They told me you were a knave, a cheat and a whoremonger, but I didn’t listen. I let myself be aroused by your bold kisses and indecent talk. I was too foolish to see you for what you really are.”

Richard’s seductive mask seemed to slip. His dark eyes narrowed with anger, and he began to pull off his tunic. “Then see me for what I really am, Astra. I’m a hot-blooded man with a thunderous ache in my balls. And I have something you want, Astra. Something big and hot and hard.” His hands went to his hose. He jerked them down.

Mother of God! He was naked except for his boots and the velvet hose around his ankles. She tried not to look but found it impossible. His phallus jutted out like a post. It was brownish red, almost purplish. The hair around the base of it was black and silky. It was the most shocking thing she’d ever seen in her life. She raised her eyes to his.

“Take me home, Richard.”

She saw him almost visibly deflate. The burning hunger in his eyes faded, to be replaced by anger. “No.”

“I want to go back to Westminster. Please escort me.”

“You’ll have to find your way by yourself. I’ve already troubled myself enough on your account tonight.”

She watched him pull up his hose and cover himself. Carefully, she noted. Men took such care with their private parts. It was odd, considering the way they abused the rest of their bodies.

They stared at each other. Finally, Astra realized she had no choice. He obviously wasn’t going to escort her back to Westminster, and she couldn’t stay there. If she did, he’d surely try again to bed her. His phallus was like a weapon. He’d put it away for now, but he could still use it to threaten her later.

Slowly, carefully, she put herself back together. She couldn’t do her hair by herself, so she twisted it up in a roll on the back of her head and pinned it. Then she put on her veil, the circlet, her gloves, and finally, the cloak.

He hadn’t budged. He was standing by the brazier, as if he was cold. His face looked sad and boyish. She started to feel sorry for him and then realized what he was making her do. She would have to find her way out of Southwark. At night. Alone.

Gritting her teeth in fury, she walked to the door. Without looking back, she opened it and went out.

The small landing was swathed in mist. For a moment, she couldn’t see at all. Then she gradually made out the ladder and climbed down. Icy fear gripped her as soon as she reached the ground. A dark alley in Southwark had to be one of the most dangerous, horrifying places in England, mayhaps even the world. It was smelly, rank and so dark she could see no more than a few paces. She heard familiar scurrying noises near her feet. She couldn’t decide what she was more afraid of—furry, sharp-toothed rodents, or the human kind of vermin.

She had to get out of the alleyway. The street might have other dangers, but it was better lit. It was madness to think of finding her way to the wharf. The best plan she could think of was to seek sanctuary in a church. Even the most hardened cleric wouldn’t turn her away. It was an ancient tradition that criminals could find comfort and safety within the sacred walls of the holy church. Surely there was room there for an errant young woman as well.

It was so dark. She sensed an opening in the alleyway instead of seeing it. She could hear voices, the clink of cups. She must be near one of the alehouses. If only she could find the entrance.

A tall figure walked out of the mist ahead of her and blocked the way. Astra shrank back and tried to decide whether to scream. It was too late. Strong fingers covered her mouth, while another hand grabbed her shoulder.

“Don’t scream, Astra.”

Her body seemed to turn to pudding and collapse into a puddle on the street. “Richard!” she cried as his hand left her mouth.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make certain you get back to Westminster safely. I wouldn’t risk leaving one of my fellow knights alone on these streets, let alone a timid little thing like you.”

Astra’s fear had deserted her, leaving in its place a fierce resentment. “Slimy toad,” she hissed at him.

He took her arm, and they began to walk toward the quay.

* * *

Richard smiled into the darkness. He’d gotten over his anger and was beginning to enjoy himself. His demure little angel had surprised him with her determination and nerve, but he found he rather liked her that way. It made Astra even more appealing to know she was not a hypocrite or a tease. She sincerely believed he had no right to her body until he wed her. She had stood up to him as boldly as any man. To know that she took her ideals seriously fired his admiration for her all the more.

They neared the docks, and the path grew foul and slippery with dampness. Richard tightened his grip. When Astra stiffened in response, his smile deepened. Women were like horses. The spirited ones always gave you a better ride. They might throw you off a few times, but when you finally mastered them, it was almost always worth the wait. He savored the thought. It would help keep him warm on the long, chilly journey back to Westminster.

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