The Crimson Castle (7 page)

“Aye, but he has little fortune,” Isabel told her.

“He has land surely?” Evelyn turned to Isabel.

“Nay, the
Merston
lands were lost many years
ago. Lord
Tibald
holds them now.”

“He does?
But why?”

“I know not, it happened when I was but a young girl.”

They both turned to the subject of their conversation in contemplation,
his glower still as deep as ever. If Lord
Tibald
owned his lands then it certainly explained his unwavering loyalty and work
ethic. Mayhap he was working to gain back his lands? She understood the need to
preserve family lands, her heart desperately want to ensure the
Beldersert
lands remained intact, but surely selling your
soul for the promise of land was an act of pure greed?

He had talked of regret at the death of Lazarus’ boy so she had to
conclude he had some conscience. How could he bring himself to carry out these
sins in the name of duty? The more she observed him, the more perplexed she
became and she found herself anxious to know the truth.

Drifting back from the group of women, she moved towards the roaring
fire, watching the flames leap and flicker, mimicking the movements of the
merry dancers making their way across the Great Hall. Glancing around she
wondered if she would be able to escape without anyone taking notice but she
had noticed
Tibald’s
eyes on her on more than one
occasion and she knew she would be missed.

A chill swept through her. She could sense him before she saw him,
moving through the crowd of people towards her as if stalking a prey. He came
up behind her, a dark presence looming in the corner of her vision. She didn’t
turn to him, a sensation akin to fear preventing her from meeting his
penetrating stare. A shudder dashed through her as he spoke, his breath
caressing her ear as he leaned in to speak to her through the rowdy din of the
hall.

“Are you enjoying yourself Evelyn?”

“Does it seem that I am?” A wry smile touched her lips and she turned
to meet his gaze.

“You are most practiced at appearing so, it seems.” Gabriel’s eyes
crinkled in a half smile of amusement.

 “I am a woman; it is our duty to appear happy in the company of
boorish men. I believe I am not the only one practiced in the art of
deception.” She gave him a knowing look.

“You believe me to be a liar?”

“Nay, not a liar but I think you as capable of deception as I am.”

“I know not how to deceive as a woman does.”

“And yet you are but a riddle to me, Sir. With one hand you will slay
and burn and with the other you will save and protect. Tell me, which of these
is the true Gabriel of
Merston
?”

He bore down upon her, his eyes darkening. “Why do you wish to know?”

She studied him, undeterred by his piercing look. “I know not.”

“Does it please you to believe that I am playacting? That my actions
that you so deeply disapprove of are merely a ruse?”

“Please me? If your actions were part of a ruse then I would think it a
vile trick indeed. I think you capable of many things, but a ruse…?
Nay.”

“Then mayhap, my lady, the only one here being deceived is
yourself
. I can offer no excuses for my deeds but that I
performed them in the line of duty.”

“You will continue to defend your misdeeds by way of duty?”

“Defend? Nay, I offer no such defence, I cannot excuse the inexcusable.
I simply offer explanation. I suspect such a justification to be deficient for
you, my lady, but here you have the truth.”

Evelyn looked at him in surprise, whilst Gabriel had never openly lied
to her, his brutal honesty and the admission of his guilt was far more than she
had expected.

He gave her a mocking smile when she answered him with nothing but
silence. “I fear mayhap the truth is a little hard for you to endure, my lady.”

Shaking her head and then tilting it, she studied him.  “You have
little knowledge of my endurance; I assure you there is much I can bear, even
the truths that you keep so deeply hidden.”

“You would be wise to hasten your curiosity, Evelyn, lest you regret
the answers you may receive.”

“Are you trying to scare me, Gabriel?”

“Do I scare you?”

A look crossed his face, a confusing mixture of hope and anxiety and
Evelyn realised once more how difficult this man was to read. Jolting her out
of her reverie, he held out his hand.

“I will save you from answering as I fear your response will pain us
both.” He looked around the dancers jostling for space. “Will you not join me
in a dance?”

Before she was aware of what she had done, she took his hand. His
callused touch put her on edge, creating a shiver of anticipation and her stomach
clenched with an unfamiliar feeling

His dancing ability surprised
her, whilst not perfect; he stepped with unexpected grace and his presence
captivated her. She noticed the attention he garnered from the other women and
to add to her astonishment she was struck with a pang of jealousy. 
Gabriel’s attention remained focused on her, however, and his powerful gaze
seemed to rob her of her breath, restricting her chest as her heart throbbed
painfully against her ribs. A glance to his lips brought heat to her cheeks as
the image of his mouth upon hers fluttered through her mind. Surely God had not
intended for those lips to be forever pulled into a grimace?

Circling one another, eyes connecting self-consciously, they drew
closer, no more than a hair breadths apart, before pulling back. The tormenting
effects of the dance were not lost on Gabriel, their hands joining for the
briefest of moments before moving onto other dancers, her soft fingers dancing
teasingly across his. He noted with twisting envy the appreciative looks of the
other men in the circle and her easy smile in response. How he wished to be at
the receiving end of one of those smiles.
Although he
wondered at the substance behind those smiles and whether she was still playing
her game of deception.

They met again, a coy look of uncertainty in her expression and a flush
upon her smooth cheeks, her delicate lavender scent consuming him as they
stepped together once again. With a fleeting look towards
Tibald
,
he noted his amused look. Indeed it was rare that Gabriel participated in such
events, only dancing when forced into it, usually by
Tibald
himself. He resisted the urge to snarl, detesting being a source of glee for
his master.

A look to Evelyn assured him that she had caught his indignant expression,
again looking at him with caution as if he might turn on her and devour her.
Little did she know how true that was for he wanted to consume her as she
consumed
him.
She was indeed his Eve, enticing him in
to eat the forbidden fruit. How would she respond if she knew the thoughts that
were running through his mind? Would those lips, that he so desperately wanted
to nibble and taste, curve into a smile? More likely she would bequeath him
with that look of disdain that she so often masterfully bestowed upon him.

The song ended, the musicians
receiving a round of applause, and he gave Evelyn a bow with the gentlest touch
to her hand. She drew her hand back quickly and, concluding that nothing had
changed, he turned on his heel and took up his usual position behind
Tibald
. For all her questions, for all her deliberations,
she would never see him as anything other than a monster.

***

She came to him like an apparition that night; her beautiful golden locks
loose and curling around her breasts, covered in a sheer slip of fabric which
seemed to shimmer over her body, affording him teasing glimpses of the luscious
skin beneath. Heart hammering in his throat, he stayed silent for fear of
frightening her away, his unbelieving mind convinced that but one whisper would
cause the vision to evaporate into the cold night air.

Reaching out to him, she drifted over to his bed as if on a cloud. Her
cool fingertips brushed across his jawline, rasping over his stubble and
trailing down his neck to his chest, wresting a growl from his throat. She sat
on his bed, so feather light that it didn’t even dip under her weight, and he
reached out hesitantly, his large hand pressing against the delicate cloth of
her chemise at her waist.

Her jade eyes locked onto his, nebulous pools of desire, a beguiling
combination of boldness and innocence, an echo of the traits that drew him to
her so strongly. Pressing his thumb into her hip, he coaxed her to straddle him
and gripped firmly at her other hip, holding her to him.

A tumble of curls brushed against his chest as she leant over him,
teasing his chest and nipples with their softness. Following the curve of her
waist, he traced his fingers upwards until they brushed the underside of her
breast and a sigh from her prompted him to cup at the delectable fullness,
skimming a thumb over her hardened nipple. Sitting up, he pulled at the
neckline of her chemise, continuing his ministrations while placing greedy
kisses upon her collar bone.

Breathy sighs drew his head up and he found himself mesmerised by the
motion of her mouth, her crimson lips parted in pleasure and, as he stroked his
other hand up her soft thigh, he was rewarded with his name tumbling from her
lips in a breathy sigh. 

His hands clutched at air as the sweet warmth of her body vanished, the
echoing sound of his name turning into a scream of pain, and his mind became
plagued with torment, the voices and faces of all those he had hurt persecuting
him, deriding him for his cowardice. Finally the faces of the two that
beleaguered him most in his dreams appeared before him, a grisly image set in a
haze of blood and terror.

Wrenching himself from his nightmares, he heaved open his heavy
eyelids, his body slick with sweat. Lying back, he waited for his heartbeat to
slow. The nightmares were normal, it was rare he didn’t experience them, but
why had Evelyn come to him in them? So perfect was she that she didn’t belong
in his world of horrors. Realising that his nightmare world was no better for
her than his real one, despondency settled into his gut. Dreams would be all he
ever had. All he could ever have.

The revelries had gone on until the sun crested over the brow of the
hill, the ochre light filtering in through the shuttered windows, casting a
warming glow over the disarray of the Great Hall. Some guests continued on
until the call of the morning meal while others simply slumped over where they
sat, rendered insensible by too much drink. Heavy heads afflicted some, the
raucous shouts of those with more stamina causing curses to fall from their
lips.

Evelyn avoided the meal, the rowdy atmosphere spoiling her appetite,
and instead retreated to the bailey. She was delighted to come across Lady
Isabel, who greeted her with the same warmth, and they determined a walk into
the town would be a suitable way to avoid the continuing intoxicated
celebrations.

Grateful that
Tibald
was too distracted to
think of her, she decided that Isabel would be escort enough and they set out
promptly arm in arm.

“Did you enjoy the feast, Lady Isabel?”

“
Priay
call me Isabel,” she begged. “‘Twas
pleasant as feasts go. Sir Walter was so drunk that he found himself incapable
of even standing up straight let alone bedding me, which was a pleasing
outcome.”

Evelyn looked at her in surprise, wondering if she was jesting.

Seeing her expression, she laughed teasingly, “Oh, Evelyn, for all your
years I fear you are too innocent to associate with myself! I shall but offend
you with my every word!”

Evelyn could not help but laugh also. “Nay, you do not offend.
‘
Tis
a joy to be
able to laugh once more.”

“Aye, I would imagine there is not much pleasure to be had within the
keep of
Etone
.”

“
‘Tis
so, Isabel.
Between the cruel Lord
Tibald
and the surly Sir Gabriel,
there is not a moment of fun to be had.”

“You must at least gain some pleasure in the company of the enigmatic
Sir Gabriel?” Evelyn blushed and Isabel laughed again. “Nay, I did not mean
that! What a mind you have! I merely meant to suggest that looking at a man
like that cannot be all hardship.”

Evelyn smiled but Isabel noted with interest that it did not reach her
eyes.

“I saw you dancing with him last night. You cannot tell me you did not
enjoy that? What I would not give to be pressed against that chest!”

Evelyn chuckled genuinely this time at her new friend’s outrageousness.
“I would take more pleasure if a heart lay beneath it.”

Seeing she would be unable to pry any further, Isabel changed the
topic. “Well, you may rely on me for amusement for the time being.
‘Tis
just a shame we do not visit more often but my lord
does his best to avoid Lord
Tibald’s
hospitalities.”

“I do not blame him; I would do the same if I had the choice.”

“So you are held against your will? I thought as much.”

Isabel looked at her with interest and Evelyn wondered with horror if
she had been the subject of much gossip last night.

“Not openly so, but it has been made clear to me that much suffering
will occur should I do otherwise. Lord
Tibald
wishes
for our betrothal so he may take my lands. I am just praying for my brother’s
safe return…he is in the Holy Land,” she added.

Isabel nodded and gave Evelyn’s arm a squeeze. “Then I shall pray for
you too. I should not like to see you betrothed to such a man. I have seen what
marriage to men like these can do to a woman. I would not wish it upon you.”