Velvet & steel (11 page)

She knew he didn't see her, but a woman and situation that had been forced upon him. What annoyed her even more was that he was trying to drive her away from him by making her afraid. Well, she was not afraid of him. Not now ... not ever.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Am I to understand, my lord, that you have had second thoughts, and now desire to wed me? I am disappointed. I had thought to find a knight of my own choosing to make the bedding more ... pleasurable."

His eyes narrowed. The lass did not frighten easily. He felt a swift touch of admiration.

"I said, I cannot change William's mind. But as for a desire to wed ... I have no real desire to wed anyone. This marriage will be for profit, and to keep your lands safe. It will be to my benefit if you do choose another, and find me a wench who carries a fat purse. Then I will not have to lift my sword to guard yours."

"And what of Cerise?" she said softly. "Once I find a wench to your liking and a lusty knight to mine, what of Cerise?"

If his look was one of pain, it was gone too fast for her to capture. "The ... Cerise takes well to you. I ... I would be grateful if you would keep her here. I would reward you well."

"Have you always had to pay for all you've gotten? Has no one rewarded you for just the pleasure of it... or for love?"

"Aye, Lady. I have been rewarded with love. But what becomes of it? In a breath it is gone, or destroyed. Nay, I shall take more visible rewards."

"How do you measure your rewards, my lord? By the wealth you acquire ... by the conquests you make, or maybe by those who have learned loyalty and love for you despite little in return?"

"Little in return?"

She shrugged. "Know you of the love Cerise holds for you?"

"She does not know me," he said gruffly.

"I believe the child knows more of you than you of her."

"That is not possible."

"No? Until we leave for London, would you consider doing something for me?"

"Ask."

"Actually not for me—"

"What is it you ask?"

"Give Cerise some moments of your time ... perhaps at meals. You must eat, and she would find a great deal of pleasure in your company."

"What kind of game do you play, demoiselle?"

"Game? Must it be a game to introduce a father to his own child? Unless, of course, she has given you so much trouble that you cannot abide her."

Royce looked down into her eyes, and fought a battle to keep from tasting those soft curved lips, inches below his. "Perhaps it is better that she does not know me. I have been absent from her life since birth. It would be better to keep it so."

"Better for her... or for you?"

"Has Robert developed a loose tongue after all?"

"Sir Robert is your friend. Aye, he has told me of your loss."

"Then you can understand—"

"No, I cannot understand. If you had died, do you think her mother would have abandoned the child you conceived together? I think not. So much for the courage of warriors." Lynette's voice grew gentle. "She is part of both of you, and she should be a comfort, for as long as Cerise is with you, you hold part of Sybella in your heart."

"And if you are forced to be my wife, would that not prey on your mind?"

"Nay. She must have loved you with her whole heart, and that was before you ever knew me. Why should I be jealous of a beautiful memory? Can you not see what you could do for Cerise? She never knew her mother. You have the key to all the memories. Share them with her, and you may find they rest gentler on your heart. You may even find that you can have peace, and share the future with another ... no matter who she may be. Does your daughter not deserve at least that much?"

Royce looked down at Lynette in fascination. She was unique. "Ask me to lift my sword in uneven conflict, ask me to lay down my life in battle. All this is easier than to look into Cerise's eyes and know that but for me, Sybella would still breathe. Of all things asked of me, that is the hardest to bear."

"But you are wrong," Lynette said softly. "We are not the commanders of our fate; it is in the hands of God. It was His will, and would have been His will had you not even married."

He had drawn away from her and the logic of her words, and she felt the withdrawal. His eyes had become bleak, and his body tense.

"I would you prepare the ch ... Cerise ... for travel. We will leave within the week."

"Aye, my lord," Lynette replied. But she was not resigned to his coldness. There had to be a way to release him from this pain, and she felt, with Cerise's help ... she would find it. She refused to question her reasons.

Somber clouds covered the moon, and lightning sent spears of brilliance through the darkness. The sea grew in fury, and waves crashed against the shore with fierce violence.

Royce was the first wakened by the storm, and he rose from his bed to rekindle the fire. The room had grown very cold. Instead of returning to his bed, he sat in a large chair by the fire and extended his legs to brace his feet on the stone hearth. Gradually, the warmth of the fire lulled him into a shallow sleep.

It was not the same for Cerise, who lay frightened in her large bed. Every corner of her room had shadows that became monsters in her mind.

She thought of the safety and comfort of Lynette's bed, and gathered her courage to flee her room. She slid from the bed and dashed to her door. But when she started down the darkened hallway, a glow of light came from under her father's door.

Hesitantly she pushed the door open and tiptoed in a few steps. She could see him before the fire, and curiosity took hold. She went to his side and found him asleep. The fire was warm, and the chair in which he sat was large.

Cerise climbed up beside him as carefully as she could, and curled against his warmth. He was so big, and so wonderful, this father of hers. Her heart longed to be lifted onto his lap and held in safety. Slowly the fire warmed her, and she rested her head against his chest and put one arm across his waist. It hardly reached across him, but she could feel the steady, solid beat of his heart, and for now that was enough. Her heavy eyes closed in the security of slumber.

Lynette, too, had been wakened by the storm, and she had thought at once of Cerise, who must be frightened. She rose and went to Cerise's room, only to find her bed empty. The door to Royce's room stood part way open, and the firelight drew her attention. She pushed the door open a little further and stepped inside.

The scene that met her eyes brought tears. Royce was asleep in a chair, and curled against him was a sleeping and obviously contented Cerise.

She tiptoed further into the room and paused by his chair. It was then that Royce became aware that he was not alone. He opened his eyes, and the first thing he was aware of was Lynette... only he was certain she had just stepped from his imagination. Then he became aware of the slight form curled against him.

He looked down on Cerise, and for a moment could not understand the situation. He raised one hand to touch lightly the small hand that rested on his chest, and suddenly his heart swelled with a warmth he was unprepared for. There was a constriction in his throat that threatened to cut off his breath. Wondering why Cerise had come to his room, he looked up at Lynette, and her smile was soft.

"She but seeks safety from the storm, Royce. Shall I carry her back to my bed?"

"No.... I will put her back in hers." He rose with such care that Cerise never wakened when she was lifted in strong arms. But Royce didn't move. He was totally unprepared for the emotion that filled him when he cradled his daughter in his arms. She was so little ... so defenseless.

Lynette watched emotion fill him, and a new and amazing one filled her. Again she thought how easy it would be to love this man. To make the three of them a family. To share ... No! She would not think this way. He did not want a wife, he wanted wealth.

"My lord?"

"Perhaps, if she is frightened ... I should put her with you. If she wakens again I would not want her afraid."

"Aye, come, we'll put her in my bed." Lynette turned from him, and he followed. In her room, he laid Cerise gently on her bed, and Lynette covered her. Then she turned to him.

"I will rekindle your fire. It's very cold in here," he said.

"Thank you."

Once the fire was blazing again, he rose and Lynette walked to the door with him. He paused there, and looked back at the bed. This time she could not read the emotions in his eyes.

"Lynette ..."

"Aye?"

He looked down into her eyes, and their gazes blended for a moment. "I don't know how ... I mean ... she is so ... "

"As I said, she but sought safety. Who better to run to in a storm than the man she believes can do almost anything?"

"She believes that?"

"Aye, and most likely more. Does that make you uncomfortable?"

"No... Yes. I'm unsure. It is not good to have someone depend upon you to that extent."

With the firelight behind her, Lynette was a shadow; the light of the fire haloed her hair until it looked like a silvered mist flowing about her. They stood close enough now that her scent came to him like the scent of spring. It jolted his senses and stirred something deep inside him that he had guarded for a long, long time.

From where Lynette stood, his face could be clearly seen. In the glow of the fire his eyes seemed deeper gold, and she could see why Cerise had gravitated to him, for an aura of power and strength flowed from him to envelop her.

Royce raised one hand to gently touch her hair.

"You have been very good to Cerise; I'm grateful. Perhaps... perhaps if I ..." He struggled for the words to match his thoughts. She felt a wave of intense emotion, first of sympathy and then of something much stronger. She wanted to draw him to her, hold him and wash away the terrible misery he had suffered.

Lynette lifted both hands and cupped his face between them. "Royce, all you have to do is reach out to her. She has stored up so much love for you, you cannot imagine. Heal your own pain by healing hers. Look at her and know that love has never left you. It is here in your child."

Royce looked into the depths of her eyes, and knew the truth of her words. He had felt it when he cradled Cerise in his arms. He laid a hand over one of hers, and became aware of what a soft and feminine creature she was.

Lynette faced the truth with her usual practicality. She wanted to touch and be touched by this man, and if given half a chance, she would go to him as a willing wife. She felt warmth fill her, release a kind of joy within her that she knew she would have to control. He did not want her. He had yet to put his ghosts to rest.

But she could not resist one single touch. Slowly she rose on tiptoe, and touched her lips to his. If Royce had been jolted by desire before, it was nothing to the force that unleashed itself now. But the wave of desire was followed by one of guilt. Sybella's face came into his mind, and the horror of what, he had caused. He could not reach for happiness again when it could only cause more grief. He did not know if he could ever rid himself of the guilt that ate at his soul. He moved back from Lynette just a fraction, but enough to break the contact.

"You must be careful, cherie. Or you will make me think you are more anxious for this wedding than you have led me to believe."

Lynette was startled by his sarcasm. She saw now in his eyes that his shields were in place. She felt heat rush to her cheeks, and a sense of shame filled her. Was she begging for his touch? She could not deny the truth of it, any more than she could deny that she would have gone into his arms if he had given one sign that he wanted her there.

But of course he did not want her there, and she vowed silently there would be no more mistakes such as this. There was room in his heart for only one woman, and she was not that woman. That woman was as alive now as she had ever been, and he had no intention of letting her go.

"I meant the kiss as a way to thank you," she said defensively.

"Feel free to thank me at any time," he chuckled.

"You needn't expect gratitude from me any time soon, my lord. Unless, of course, you help me choose a knight to wed who has more regard for affection truly given."

She watched his smile fade and felt a sense of satisfaction. She had no idea that the thought of her in someone else's arms had formed before him like a portrait, and he did not like the scene.

"Good night, Lynette. Sleep well."

"Oh, do not worry yourself, sir knight. I will sleep well. Let me wish the same for you." She backed up a step and began to close the door between them. Royce waited for the door to shut, then placed one hand against it and closed his eyes to gather control.

He'd wanted to take her in his arms and test the softness of those lips. He had wanted more, and he hated himself for the desire that could not be leashed.

He turned and walked back to his chamber. He lay for a long time before sleep came, and in that time he decided that they would leave for London as soon as possible. The sooner he found ... or she found the man who would please her, the better.

Lynette climbed into her bed, careful not to disturb Cerise, who slept peacefully. Lynette. too, found sleep difficult to attain. She lay staring into the fire Royce had rekindled, and thought of him.

She felt more for him than she wanted to feel and in the darkness she did not deny it. Her whole body was alive with the desire to feel his arms about her. and she would have accepted his kiss with pleasure. had he simply reached for her.

Now they would go to London, and each would search out another to fill the days and nights to come. It was a situation that was nearly impossible. She refused to lie to herself. There were few knights who would compare to him... few she would not find lacking. She began to wonder what William would say if both of them came to him with choices of their own. Surely it didn't matter to him who ruled the lands of Creganwald, as long as they were ruled in his name.

Royce stirred uncomfortably in his bed, for every time he moved to find a more comfortable spot, he imagined the scent of springtime swirling about him. His imagination played havoc with his thoughts until he cursed under the strain. For he could see Lynette as she had looked fresh from the bath, her body warm and still damp, her hair loose about her. He could still feel the softness of her skin, and taste the sweet taste of her mouth.

It was pure lust, he argued, and lust could be cured with any willing wench. He refused to answer the question of why he did not go in search of a willing maid to slake his lust. He fought his body for control, and after a long while he slept.

The next morning he gave the order that they would leave for London the following day. Packing what they would need kept Lynette busy most of the day. It was midafternoon before she realized she had seen very little of Cerise since they had broken their fast just after sunrise.

She went in search of her, and soon received the surprising word that she had not been seen since the morning meal.

Lynette felt a bit alarmed, and went at once in search of Oriel. But there was no satisfaction to be found there. Oriel was busy preparing her own things for travel, and made it clear Lynette was an interference.

"I'm sure the child would not have been so free had she still been in my care," Oriel said coldly.

"No," Lynette answered, "I suppose not. But then she would have been imprisoned in her room and left to her own devices."

"Better that than trying to explain to Royce why you cannot find her. I surmise there are many places she could run into grief."

The words brought a picture to Lynette's mind that frightened her. She knew Cerise had been fascinated with Royce's destrier, ever since the day he had brought her back from the stream. She also knew the huge horses were dangerous. Only a man with a great deal of strength and courage could handle one. Had the child gone to the stables and been tramped under the hooves of one of the beasts?

Panic filled her, and she raced to the stables. They were empty ... or so she thought at first. But then she heard a soft giggle, and the muffled sound of whispered voices.

She followed the sound to a shadowed corner, and when she approached she saw a sight she had never believed she would see.

Royce was kneeling with his back to Lynette, and Cerise was there beside him. They were examining something in the hay-filled corner that Lynette could not see. She walked toward them, but both were so engrossed that they did not hear her coming.

As she grew closer, she could see a litter of kittens that had recently been born.

"No, Cerise, you cannot take any one of them to London with you. They are too young to leave their mother. You wouldn't want it to die, would you?" Royce was saying, and his voice was gentle and warm. Lynette swallowed the constriction in her throat, and fought tears of pleasure.

"No," Cerise answered hesitantly. "Papa ... can I hold one?"

Royce reached out and lifted a tiny bundle of calico fur in his hand, then settled it in Cerise's two hands. "Be very careful, don't hold it too tight," he cautioned.

"Oh, I won't," Cerise breathed. She had never felt so happy in her entire life. She only remembered climbing on his chair last night and falling asleep. Early in the morning she had wakened in Lynette's bed with the idea that her father had had her taken away.

This morning she had eaten with Lynette, and had been asked to go to her chamber to make certain there was nothing else she wanted to carry to London with her. She had been busy going through ribbons and such when she had turned to find her father standing in the doorway.

At first she tried to think what she had done wrong. Then she decided that he had come to tell her to stay out of his room. She had known it was wrong. She had been told many times to stay out of her father's vicinity... but last night... last night was a pleasure she would not have forgone even if she was to be punished.

Then she realized what that punishment might be, and her heart almost broke. She might be given into Oriel's care again, and that would be the worst punishment of all.

"Papa?" she said hesitantly, for she could not understand his intent look. Was he angry?

Royce crossed the room to stand beside her and she looked up what seemed like an immense distance. He knelt before her, bringing them eye to eye.

"Cerise." His voice was gentle. "Was it a bad dream that wakened you last night?"

"No, Papa. It was just the wind. I... I was frightened. I'm sorry. I won't come in your room again. You won't give me back to Oriel, will you? I'll be good, Papa, I promise. I won't come in your room again. I'll—"