The Lady of Fairhaven (37 page)

Luke kept a close watch over her, worried about her state of mind. Dealing with the public and personal humiliation had been a steady struggle. However, maintaining an even temperament aided her to heal quickly.

Although possessing an emotional disposition of iron, Gillian seemed fragile in the way she now cloaked her feelings. Her very personality had closed off, shielding Luke and everyone else from the pain she bore.

As the group traveled along the road, Gillian and Luke rode in the center of the guards. Taking no chances with her safety, Luke had no intention of any harm befalling his love. In truth he could not bear the thought of her falling into the hands of an enemy again. He would rather die in her defense.

The first day on the road, Gillian rode silently. Luke rode Storm beside Buttercup allowing a time for reflection. Upon reaching the first campsite, Luke slid from his saddle, and held out his arms to aid Gillian from her mare. She slid along his body and clung to him. Her head rested upon his armored chest and she refused to let him free. The simple act of surrender to his protection sent a pulse of pure pleasure coursing through his body. His embrace was tighter than perhaps it should have been, but he was reluctant to let her free. And Gillian was determined to remain enclosed within his grasp.

The sweet fragrance of her hair drifted up to him as he held her to him. As the men busied themselves with setting up the camp for the night, Luke and Gillian held each other tight. Gillian sighed. That caused Luke to study her face for a time.

“
Gill, I wish I could erase the events of the past fortnight,” he soothed.

“
I will have you know that I would have submitted over and over again for the mere chance of spending my life with you, my love,” Gillian confessed. Luke swept a light kiss upon her auburn hair.

Reluctantly the two disengaged from one another, but Luke kept Gillian in view. He refused to let her stray from his watchful eye. She was vulnerable and there was still no certainty that she was totally safe. Brigands looking for some quick compensation still might be looking to abduct the lady.

A fire burned bright in the center of camp and Gillian’s pallet was placed nearby. After eating and attending to personal needs, she settled down to sleep, but only after Luke was ensconced close by. Throughout the night Luke slept at her side. By morning Gillian had embraced him and had nestled snug against his warm body. And when Luke stirred to help with tearing apart the camp, Gillian moaned and tugged at him to remain. Luke smiled and kissed her head and lingered by her side for as long as possible.

The closeness was so like what they had shared before. He didn’t want to ever let it go. If in his power to do so, he would make every day happy for Gillian. For now it was important to give one simple pleasure after another. Riding together seemed to restore her

That morning the horse pawed impatiently when her mistress was in view, waiting for Gillian to claim her for the day. The lady found special tidbits for the horse to enjoy along the way, and took special time grooming the beautiful palfrey. She was rewarded with the animal’s soft whinnies and gentle nudges greeting her as she prepared to mount. And sitting atop Buttercup brightened Gillian’s spirits.

As the day progressed, Gillian relaxed. The trip was a carefree time. No regrets or shame marred her outlook. Her future was uncertain, but at least she was in the company of the man she loved, and for now it was more than enough.

Gillian begged to take a stroll through the woods. Unwilling to deny her this simple request, Luke agreed. Guards were posted discreetly around an imaginary perimeter. Luke wished for privacy, not trouble. If an intruder were to happen along, his men would intercept long before they could happen upon his favorite forest nymph.

Straining to listen for danger, Luke’s head turned one way and another to listen for trouble. Drawn to Gill’s beauty like a moth to flame, he furtively watched her while looking through the foliage, hunting for the brigands he hoped would not materialize. Her auburn hair and hazel eyes sparkled in the dappled forest light.

Finding a grassy bank overlooking a stream, Gillian sat then waited for Luke to follow her lead. Reluctant to let his guard down, he searched the underbrush for any signs of life. Satisfied they were truly alone; he laid his sword in the grass and settled close to Gillian.

Without warning her arms ensnared her protector and pulled his mouth snug against hers. A satisfied moan strengthened to a lusty demanding groan as Gill’s fingers tangled into the curly strands at Luke’s nape. Any willpower Gill possessed coursed away, like the water in the stream at her feet.

Inwardly, Luke smiled. If he had ordered a perfect scenario, this would be it. He was alone with the lady he loved. That was all he needed to know. His hands pulled her tight against his chest then he slanted a hungry kiss over her sweet warm mouth. The possessive grown of satisfaction only a man burning with lust could produce echoed in his own ears. At that moment, he sounded more animal than man and his instinct to mate his lips with hers insisted on satisfaction.

Gillian settled into the grass, smoothing her skirt over her legs. As soon as Luke had settled next to her on the riverbank, he turned and embraced her with a fierceness that drove a squeak from deep inside. After starting the primitive mating ritual, Gill relaxed and let Luke dominate. Only when a tentative kiss or caress slowed the pace did Gill tease with a flick of her tongue or a brush of her hand. Unwilling to part from her love, she stroked and flirted until the man in her arms surrendered to a new wave of passion. Strengthened by her heady power over this man, Gillian released her prey for another volley of tongue play.

Never had she possessed such control, and now that she had it she wished never to relinquish it. Luke had the strength to physically dominate, but he was willing to surrender any power to Gillian if it meant he could taste of her charms. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her snug against him. The widow’s body melted in wonderful new ways to press her softness against his warrior’s chest of steely muscle.

Probing his tongue against her pliant lips was rewarded with a chance to delve into the honeyed warmth of her mouth. A moan of his driving need filled her mouth as the probing tongue tasted, and sampled her sweet surrender.

“
Please, Luke,” Gillian begged, “Touch me.” Her hand cupped over his fingers and guided his hand to the soft mound of her breast. Every alarm sounded in her head, but she was powerless to fight off the pleasure numbing her brain.

Breaking free at last, Luke scrambled away slightly, unsure his resolve would hold long enough to save her from the shame of claiming her here in the grass. His manhood, nearly in pain from lust, strained against his chauses. The most difficult deed he would need to perform was to pull away from sweet Gillian’s embrace. But pull away he must. It would not do to behave like some randy lad and soil his lady’s good name.

Gillian’s arms reached for her love, but came up empty. “Nay, my lady,” Luke whispered. “I want better for you than a roll in the weeds.”

“
I would have you any way I might, good sir.” Gillian cried.

Her face was a scarlet hue matching that of Luke’s. Every breath came short and shallow from unfulfilled cravings. The defiant tilt of her chin and the ramrod straight spine stung Luke’s heart. In spite of the twinge of guilt squeezing his chest, he was glad that at last his love was showing some measure of the spunk she had valiantly displayed since their first encounter. A wry smile twisted on his lips.

As she bounded up and marched away, Luke reached out in surprise from her rear. His fingers dug in to the forward moving soft flesh of her arms, resisting his efforts to halt her progress. His lips brushed against her ear with the lightness of butterfly wings.

“
Don’t go,” the knight entreated. “Stay here with me for a while longer. I long to sit and watch the sunlight play with the fire in your hair. You are the loveliest woman I have ever known. And you are the dearest as well. I think you would not want me to sully your good name. It would not be honorable for me to do so even though it is nigh on impossible to keep my hands off of you.”

Finally a small smile crept across Gill’s face for she knew what he spoke to be the truth. She stood still and allowed his hands to explore a slow path over her hips and to her flat tiny waist. Her smaller hands held his larger ones against her or guided them in an ever-tightening embrace. Just having him pressed against her sent ripples of pleasure whipping along every nerve.

With a sudden turn, a hasty but chaste kiss, and a flurry of silly giggles, Gill skipped along the forest path toward the encampment. One long furtive glance over her right shoulder teased Luke and brought the warrior to heel at her side. Indeed the man was so smitten he would have gladly accomplished any foolish deed just to have the pleasure of his love’s companionship. The knight craved to touch the woman of his desires, but proximity proved not be as satisfying as he had hoped.

In fact, both Gillian and Luke spent sleepless nights. Aroused beyond endurance the two lay snuggled together, not moving for fear it would alert the other to their own unsettled state. It was nearly dawn before the pair slipped at last into the deep restful sleep they both so desperately needed.

For the first time that Luke could remember, he didn’t wake up on his own. The knights moving about their morning chores clanked an early morning greeting. Gillian rolled over pushing her face into his steel hard muscles. Her quick temper flared wildly and she cursed the circumstances that would rudely interrupt her dreams of Luke’s strong hands. Those hands were swatted away angrily while Gillian attempted to roll over and resume her slumber. It was not to be. Luke’s full-bodied laughter broke the silence. Watching her angry protest put a smile on his face when all else would no doubt add to his own ire.

Contrary to her cheery countenance, Gillian remained ill tempered for some time. An irritating jumpiness tickling and teasing every nerve drove her to despair. She would have none of the meager food offered by one of the knights. Her happiness may come to an abrupt end and no temptation would induce her to partake of any present pleasure.

This would be the day she would face her dead husband’s family. Even Luke’s status as brother would have little effect on mourning children. How they must hate her. Logic would place blame on her alone for the death of her husband. Had she not been the ultimate target, Phillip would be alive at this moment? He had been cut down while he still had many good years left to him, and she had been the cause.

Gillian closed her eyes and willed the day to be over. Her thoughts drifted to the abbey. If all went as she expected, she would be traveling to it by day’s end. It wasn’t the life she would have wanted, but never again would she settle to live in a marriage without love. The abbey was her only hope of evading that grim possibility.

Gillian watched Luke work at saddling the horses. Mayhap this would be the last good look she would have of the man who possessed her heart. She loved him far too well to come between him and his family. Leaving would be the kindest gift she could bestow.

Her eyes roamed over the sinewy muscles, contracting with each chore. Anyone looking at him would claim he put little or no effort into his tasks. Hands so sure and strong deceived the onlooker into thinking the job simple and so effortless that it should not be attempted. Gillian smiled at the feeling of comfort surrounding her like a blanket as she watched this capable man go about his work.

Her soul had already pledged itself to Luke. No matter what may befall her, she would not relinquish any of its passion to share with another. Sadly, however, she felt shame that she would most likely always reserve that passion always for Luke, and deny God his portion. She realized she would never truly become a really good nun. She had too many faults, too many secrets, and far too many emotions locked within. Perhaps one day she might share all of herself with the Order. For now her goal would be to reach the abbey safely and most assuredly against Luke’s wishes.

Every thought turned toward devising a plan to free Luke of the overbearing burden she represented. Being the most honorable knight she had ever known, he would insist on providing protection for her even if his heart had been pledged by duty alone rather than emotional attachment.

The ride to xxx went by in a blur. She barely noticed Luke riding next to her. Indeed her attention was so misplaced she had no idea how close they had come to the castle. The tower dominated the horizon with its imposing structure, no doubt designed to scare any man into retreating. Gillian would laugh at the effect it had on her quaking body had she not been so totally overwhelmed by an irrational fear flooding through her.

As her eyes fixed on the imposing structure, the young widow pulled back on Buttercup’s reigns. Watching Phillip’s family lined up on horseback outside the manor’s portcullis shocked the widow. Mayhap they would refuse her entrance. This certainly was proof of their resentment of her.

“
I can’t do this. How they must hate me,” Gillian cried out loud but for her own ears.

Every muscle in the widow’s body tightened in response to her fabrication. The mare slid to an abrupt stop. Buttercup protested her loss of position beside Storm and tossed her head in displeasure. A sharp whinny bespoke her displeasure at being left behind.

The chestnut stallion following lackadaisically close on Buttercup’s heels nipped his big teeth into the mare’s rump when he realized a collision was imminent. The palfrey bucked in pain, kicking her hind feet up into the stallion’s neck. Both horses screamed in pain.