WINDKEEPER (43 page)

Conar shuddered against her one final time and then rolled off, flopping to his back, one arm flung over his eyes. She could feel the bed shaking beneath them and knew he was crying. Rising above him, she gathered him in her arms and cradled his head against her breast. She could feel his hot tears of frustration against her flesh through the fabric of her gown and she held him tighter, crooning softly to him as though he were a lost child. She stroked his damp hair and placed a soft kiss on the heat of his forehead.

Conar held on to her, burying his face against her bosom. His arms were around her as though he would never let her leave him. Only a moment after his climax had come to give him ease, he had realized the woman beneath him had been pure, untouched, and he had soiled her for the rest of her life. The knowledge tore at him like a ravaging beast.

"I am sorry, Gezelle," he wept, his throat closing with tears. "So sorry." His shoulders shook with his misery.

"Hush, now, my sweet Milord," she whispered. "I offered you the use of my body. You shall always have that right."

He shook his head in denial, pulling back to look at her. He tried to speak, but she placed her fingers across his lips.

"We will speak no more of it. Sleep now. I will stay with you. You will not be alone." She moved her fingertips to his hair and nestled his head against her once more.

Her body throbbed where he had taken her and she could feel the oozing flow of her blood mixed with his juices easing down her thighs. She was ashamed, terribly ashamed, for at the moment his seed had entered her body, she had felt the joy she knew Liza felt each time this golden man had taken her. It was a joy mixed with guilt, for Gezelle had loved him for a very long time.

She felt her own tears coursing down her cheeks and she bit her lip to still the sob of self-pity she was feeling. She pulled him closer and knew in her heart she would never know the love from him she craved so much.

His breathing became less ragged and eventually he fell asleep in her protective arms, his arm around her waist, his thigh between her own.

* * *

When Legion came to find his brother, he found the two of them lying on the bed. He hurriedly went into the room and shut the door behind him. To his knowledge Conar had never taken a woman into his own bed within the keep and never in his wildest dreams would Legion have thought Gezelle and his brother lovers. Seeing the girl looking at him with fear, he quickly shook his head, held up his hand to forestall any hysteria on her part.

"Is he all right?" Legion asked.

Nodding, Gezelle looked away from the Vice-Commander. She gently shook Conar, easing herself from under his arm, straightening her skirt about her legs where it had ridden up with the intrusion of Conar’s naked thigh. When the Prince opened his eyes, she answered his inquiring look with one of caution. "Your brother is here, Milord."

Conar raised his head from Gezelle’s shoulder and frowned. "I should have had you lock the gods-be-damned door, ’Zelle."

"Gezelle?" Legion asked, not looking at the girl as she stood and adjusted her clothing, "would you leave us please?"

"What the hell do you want, Legion?" Conar growled, embarrassed for the small girl.

"I wasn’t spying on you, Conar," Legion snapped. "Papa sent me to find you. The Oceanian King and Queen have requested your presence at the midday meal." He waited until Gezelle had curtsied to them and closed the door behind her before he turned his angry glare to his younger brother. "There are those who would not understand the scene I happened upon, Conar." Legion retrieved Conar’s shirt and flung it at him. "That was a particularly stupid thing to do! What the hell were you thinking, or am I flattering your intelligence?"

Deftly catching the blue silk, Conar jerked the material over his tousled hair. "I don’t give a damn what you think, A’Lex! What I do before being bound hand and foot to Shaz’s frog is none of your concern." Conar plucked at the shirt laces, tangling them, cursing as his fingers jerked at the offending strings.

Legion had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting. "Have you no care for that young girl’s reputation within this keep? I have heard no tales of her immorality. I would not have thought her a loose woman, but…"

"She isn’t!" Conar shouted. He spun around and pierced Legion with a stony glint. "I made a stupid mistake, that’s all. I, and I alone, am responsible. And I had gods-be-damned well better not hear one thing about this from anyone’s mouth. Do I make myself clear?"

Legion tore his gaze from Conar’s guilt-ridden face and looked at the tumbled sheets. He winced as he saw the bright splash of red on the coverlet. Hurrying forward, he snatched the silk from the bed and wadded it up, then stomped to the fireplace and stuffed the telltale evidence into the flames. Angrily shoving the material into the grate with the fire poker, he snarled over his shoulder. "For the love of Alel, Conar! How could you have done this? The girl was a…she was a…" He turned his head and fixed his brother with a malevolent look. "If Liza had known this would happen, she would have never left Gezelle in your care."

Scowling, tasting the guilt Legion had intended for him to feel, Conar tucked his shirt into his cream-colored leather breeches and sat on the bed to pull on his boots. He couldn’t meet his brother’s eyes.

"It won’t happen again."

"It damned well better not!"

Conar lifted his head and sent his brother a hateful frown. "Don’t tell me what to do."

"Someone has to. You seem incapable of doing what is right on your own." He watched Conar come to his feet, his hands bunched into fists at his sides. "You take exception to that?"

It takes a strong man to back down when he knows he’s in the wrong, and although it galled him to do so, Conar did. He ignored the jibe and dug his hands into his pockets.

"I told you it won’t happen again. I sign the papers today and that will be the end of it."

"And what if the whore from the tavern was diseased?"

Wondering how Legion knew of what had transpired in Conar’s room the night before they left the Briar’s Hold, Conar couldn’t meet his brother’s eyes. "I didn’t sleep with her." At Legion’s snort of disbelief, he glanced up. "I didn’t. That’s the truth of it."

Legion nodded, his body relaxing. Conar never lied. "Will you come down for the meal?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not unless you want Papa up here looking for you."

"Have you seen her yet?"

Legion knew who his brother meant. "I passed her on the stairs. I spoke to her and she answered. Her voice is rather raspy beneath that silver veil."

"Does she limp?" All the fight had gone out of him. He had hoped it wasn’t true that The Toad was actually here this time.

Legion laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. "Aye, but it isn’t a bad limp."

"But a limp just the same."

"I heard Hern telling Sadie the girl has a way with animals. She was out in the kennels with Tuck’s hunting dogs when Belle had her litter. She got down on the ground with the Kennel Keeper and helped him deliver the pups. Tuck’s wife gave her one as a wedding present." Legion smiled. "She took the pup up to her room."

Conar glanced at his brother’s smiling face. "Stupid female. I don’t want dogs in the keep."

"It proves she has a gentle nature."

Conar made a rude sound. "Let Papa know I’m on my way." He reached for the bottle of brandy on his bedside table.

"You go down drunk and Papa will have your balls, Conar," Legion warned and tried to take the bottle, but his younger brother snatched it from his reach.

Throwing Legion a look of pure venom, Conar tilted the bottle and brought it to his lips, taking a long draft, grimacing as the warm fire licked at his nearly empty stomach, colliding with the undigested oatmeal to make him suddenly queasy.

"I’m warning you, little brother. If you do anything to embarrass Papa, he’ll geld you, himself."

Conar smiled. "I don’t think I will, but you never know."

Legion sighed, not really sure of the glint in his brother’s eyes. "Give me your word you won’t do anything to upset Papa today." He folded his arms over his chest.

Conar’s smile widened, a wicked grin that deepened the dimple in his right cheek. He placed his hand over his heart. "I give you my word as Prince Regent and Lord High Commander of the Serenian Forces that I will do nothing to embarrass our father today."

Legion probed Conar’s face for a moment and then threw up his hands. "You’d better not, that’s all I can say!" He stalked to the door and left, his head shaking at his brother’s stupidity.

"I promise I won’t do anything to embarrass Papa, today," Conar repeated, bringing the bottle to his lips once more. He took a large sip of the brandy, shrugged and then drained the entire bottle, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. He grinned. "But I didn’t say anything about tomorrow."

King Gerren looked up as his son came down the spiral staircase. There was a lethal frown on Conar’s handsome face that quickly turned to a false smile of greeting as he caught sight of his father waiting.

Gerren sighed. By the gods, but the boy was going to be difficult, the King thought. He watched his son cross the main hall toward him and was struck anew at just how much Conar looked like his mother. Conar had Moira’s hair and her coloring; his eyes, although blue like his father’s, were tilted just as his mother’s had been. Mother and son had the same sensual smile that could melt even the coldest heart. As the King gazed at his most beloved child, he saw the false smile turn to genuine affection as Conar reached out to take his father’s hand in greeting.

"Are you well?" Gerren asked, looking his son up and down. He had gone to Conar’s room during the night only to find the boy fast asleep. He had covered Conar’s bare chest with the coverlet, placed a light kiss on the smooth forehead and stood watching his child sleep as he had done many times before. He had wanted to assure himself Conar was all right.

"I feel fine, Papa, no thanks to Hern." He turned his head to listen to the sweet sound of music coming from the drawing room. "Tell me that’s The Toad…" He stopped, warned by the sudden scowl on his father’s face. "The Princess Anya," he corrected, "who plays so beautifully." His voice was slightly thick, but only someone who knew him well could tell that Conar was just a little more than tipsy. Unfortunately for him, his father knew him all too well.

Glowering, Gerren took hold of Conar’s upper arm, yanking the young man around to face him. "By the gods, I told your brother to see to it that you did not come down to this hall in an unacceptable manner!" He looked about him to see if anyone was near. Lowering his voice, he shook Conar’s arm. "I will not have you offending Shaz and his lady-wife. Do you understand me, Conar?" He gave his son another hard shake. Looking down at the boy’s clothes, he at least approved of them. His voice was cold and clipped as he commanded, "Get your ass back up those stairs and stay there until you are in a fit condition to appear!"

Conar drew himself up, sticking out his chin. He had always prided himself on being able to hold his liquor. "I am sober enough for the likes of The Toa…"

"You are drunk!" his father hissed. "I won’t tell you again to get up those stairs, Conar; I will have you carried up them!"

"Ah, so there you are, Gerren!" a deep voice called from the drawing room door. "And this must be our Conar!"

King Shaz of Oceanian strode forward and held out his hand to Conar. The young Prince would have gone down on one knee in honor to the King, but Shaz spoke up. "No, no, son! You are family. A son does not go to his knee to his father in Oceania."

"But he crawls on his belly to his father in Serenia," Conar mumbled and was rewarded with a swift kick to his shin that made him yelp and turn hurt and surprised eyes to his father.

"My son likes to make little jokes." Gerren laughed, slapping Conar so hard on his back, the young man lurched forward, coughing.

"Such is the way with my boys, too," Shaz agreed. "I’ve resorted to a few kicks in my time, Gerry."

King Shaz Wynth was a tall man, well over six feet. A thick mane of salt and pepper hair that had once been as black as midnight glistened over his high forehead. Wiry and straight, the full head of hair was his most striking asset. His dark brown eyes glittered with good humor and his full lips seemed ready to smile at a moment’s notice. That they did was obvious in the crinkles near his mouth. Thick, shaggy brows and a thin, straight nose hovered over a thick black mustache that gave the man an air both of authority and sensuality.

His build was excellent for a man pushing the last few years of his fifth decade. There were no bulges or sags, only well-muscled arms and belly that attested to a daily regimen of fitness adhered to all his life. His white teeth were straight and evenly spaced and there were laugh lines around his eyes that said much for the man’s overall disposition. His handshake was firm and welcoming as he gripped Conar wrist.

"At long last I get to meet my Anya’s betrothed. I had feared this day would never come," Shaz joked.

"I had hoped not," Conar answered, biting his tongue as he realized what he had said. He heard his father growl a warning, and corrected himself. "What I meant to say was I had hoped to meet you sooner."

Shaz draped a strong arm around Conar’s shoulder and hugged the young Prince. "Ah, well, the vagaries of Fate, eh? But now we are here, the papers will be signed today"—he leaned toward Conar—"at last, and the wedding will be tomorrow night. I can hardly wait!"

There was a gleam in the man’s eye Conar couldn’t understand. His mind was becoming foggier by the minute and he had to reassess his opinion of just how well he could hold his liquor. The man’s face was beginning to blur out of focus.

"It’s a shame you have been kept so busy running things around here, Conar. We would have loved to have had you come to visit with us." Shaz smiled.

Conar glanced at his father’s set face and realized his parent had lied about his son’s constant refusals to make the trek to Oceania. An inherently honest man, Gerren must have been offended by having to lie for his son. Conar’s guilt rode him like a vicious trainer. He looked at his father in apology.