Gayle Callen (8 page)

Why now? Why did he have to be so vividly reminded of the life he had forsworn? Why had he even helped this woman, whose body writhed in his mind, tempting him to forget all he had promised. Her mouth had been luscious and sweet beneath his, and it was easy now to imagine her lips parted, her tongue dueling with his.

In his dream the night was dark, the trees swayed above them and the firelight flickered across their naked bodies. He wanted to worship her breasts and lie within the warmth of her thighs. She would cry out her fulfillment and Reynold would always, always make her feel loved.

It was that thought that brought him out of the seductive trance and back to the damp hall, the prickly rushes, and the woman lying stiffly beside him. The other couple still groaned and fumbled beneath their blanket, but Reynold stared unseeing at the timbers of the roof and thought of her hand lying beside his.

Katherine felt a slow flush of mortification sweep from her chest to her forehead. She knew what that couple was doing beneath their blanket. Couldn’t they wait until they reached their own home? Wasn’t anyone else as embarrassed as she? But she only heard gentle snores or murmured words, even an occasional groan.

Katherine became aware of Brother Reynold, lying beside her on his back. She was too embarrassed to turn and see if he were awake, but she hoped he did not hear their neighbors. Though
he’d been in a monastery, she knew he had been a worldly man once. His kiss proved that. She tried to forget, but her treacherous mind latched hold of the idea gleefully. It was not all that difficult imagining Reynold as a knight come to meet the daughters of a household. He had a hard, stern face which showed he could protect what was his.

But when he laughed—Katherine caught her breath as she pictured him grinning at her, the crease in his chin boyish, his eyes as bright as flowers. He did not laugh enough. Some secret tormented his soul, had made him retreat to the monastery. She could not even be angry that he had kissed her. She had wanted him to, betrothed though she was.

Katherine still felt the touch of his lips, so soft and gentle, making that other monk’s hard, invading mouth recede from her mind. If she had not stopped Reynold, what would have happened? She had a sudden, vivid image of herself reclining on a soft bed in a tapestried room, candles glowing everywhere. She saw Reynold leaning over her, kissing her hands, her arms, her shoulders, her—

Katherine flopped over onto her stomach and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She had to stop this. She was engaged to—to—

In disgust, she turned her head and suddenly saw the reflected firelight in Reynold’s eyes as he watched her. She felt trapped by his silent, intense gaze and her own longings. Why did just being near him turn her into a quivering, confused girl?

He moved onto his side, facing her, and she put
out a hand to stop him from coming nearer. With a will of their own, her fingers remained on his chest, feeling his warmth and the hardness of muscle. He covered her hand with his own and lay there, watching her. The calluses of his palm were rough, and she imagined his hands caressing her in other, secret places, and her own touching him.

Although her mind told her this was madness, she wanted to be held, to be loved for herself and not her dowry. She rolled onto her side facing Reynold, her hand still caught in his. Her breathing was short and swift, her heartbeat frantic with uncertainty and desire. Her body quivered and tightened in places she’d never noticed before. Reynold’s fingers slid along hers, stroking, setting her trembling with just his touch. He traced slowly up her inner arm, lingering at her elbow.

Katherine couldn’t breathe enough air. Her blood shimmered with passion that seemed to intensify between her thighs. Reynold’s fingers moved up her arm, ever closer to her body. The back of his hand brushed her breast and she shuddered. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, her logical self cried out a warning, but this time she could not obey. Her gaze was locked on the shadowy, harsh lines of his face and she heard his quick breathing. Was he similarly affected? Did he hover in this realm of pain and pleasure so exquisite she wanted to linger here forever? His large hand cupped her breast, lifting its fullness. She exhaled a moan, arching her back.

At the sound of her pleasure, Reynold shook
with the effort of holding still. She was warm and soft, her breast heavy in his palm. He rubbed his thumb gently over the wool-covered peak and was rewarded with a shiver and a sigh. His body raged with heat and a passion long unsatisfied. It was all he could do not to throw himself atop her and spread her thighs. There were too many secrets between them, yet his body urged him on. He came up on an elbow and watched her sweet face, her eyes closed, her head thrown back. The mounds of her breasts taunted him until the animal in him wanted to rip the clothes from her body.

He leaned over her, bracing his hand on the rush-covered floor. He buried his face in her warm, sweet-smelling neck, feeling her hands creep over his shoulders to clutch his back. He kissed the soft skin of her jaw and cheek, fluttered his lips over her eyelashes. He wanted to explore every inch of her, but this wasn’t the time or place. He needed privacy to teach her lovemaking. That thought alone almost doused the flames of his need. Teach her lovemaking? When he would have to eventually leave her for the monastery? Leave her, when she lay soft and open to him, forgetting the man who would marry her?

Reynold kissed her brow, pressing his cheek there for a moment. He lifted his head and saw her watching him intently. He opened his mouth to tell her he was sorry, but she surprised him by sliding her hand into his hair and pulling his head down for a kiss.

K
atherine shook with need as she brought Reynold’s mouth to hers. His hair was short and soft between her fingers, his chest a warm pressure against her breasts. Part of her mind whispered that she was leading him towards something she could not finish, but her sly inner self relished his passion and his strength. He wanted her just as she was, without her dowry, regardless of her weak arm.

When he slanted his mouth across hers, she willingly parted her lips beneath the thrust of his tongue. She matched his exploration with her own and felt him groan deep in his throat. He tasted like man and ale, and her body trembled and pressed closer to his.

He slid his hand around her rib cage and slowly upward, capturing her breast and kneading it gently. Katherine gasped against his mouth and arched her back, one hip caught beneath his. He shifted suddenly until she lay beneath him, her
skirts holding her legs trapped by his. The laces of her gown and undergarment seemed to magically give way at her back. She felt his hot breath on the bare skin of one shoulder as he followed her receding garments with kisses. Expectation began to build deep within her until she grew still, holding her breath, waiting, waiting as the rough wool slid unbearably down her breasts.

She knew the moment she lay exposed to him. With a sigh she opened heavy-lidded eyes and watched him hover just above the peak of her breast. She gasped air into her starved lungs, but could not continue breathing, caught in the anticipation of his touch.

“Beautiful Katherine,” he whispered.

His breath teased her nipple and Katherine jerked once and went still. When his tongue finally touched her, she shuddered with the explosion of sensation that started at her breast and radiated out to the far points of her body, then back to burn between her thighs. He ground his hips into hers and the hard length of him tormented her.

Both breasts were bared to him, and Katherine could only hold his head against her, shivering beneath the assault of his tongue against her flesh. He drew her nipple deep within his mouth and she inhaled sharply. In that moment of stillness, she heard a sound that was not from either of them.

The rest of the world seemed to crash down on Katherine in an instant. There were people all around her doing the same thing that she was. Her
eyelids flew open as she stiffened, wondering what she displayed to the world. Reynold had pulled the blanket over his head, and somehow that made everything worse. He had had enough realization of the people around them to shield her from view. He knew where they were, what they were doing. And still he had tormented her body as if they were alone. Had he intended to complete this act in front of strangers? While she lost her soul and mind to the sensations, was he just taking advantage of her willingness, regardless of who might watch them?

“Brother Reynold!” she hissed.

His whole body stiffened and he suddenly seemed heavy enough to crush her. He rested his cheek for a moment against her breast, while she trembled in hot humiliation. He lifted his head and looked up at her, his eyes dark, full of pain. Katherine realized she could not only be angry at him. She had allowed all this to happen, even encouraged it.

“Please,” she whispered, trying to shift beneath him, ever aware that his body still longed for what she had begun. When she tugged at her gown, he lifted himself off her and rolled away. Katherine covered herself and turned onto her side in a tight ball of misery. She fumbled behind her neck at the laces, but Reynold brushed her hands aside and swiftly tied them.

She covered her ears against the voices that screamed inside her that Reynold had his vows, and that she was betrothed. Would she roast in
hell for her sins? Would this be her punishment for thinking she could do a man’s work and warn the king?

Reynold lay on his back, listening to Katherine sob softly to herself. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her it was his fault alone, but he knew she would not welcome the intrusion. Why couldn’t things be simple? Why couldn’t they have met and courted, and been given permission to marry by their families? Maybe Edmund would still be alive.

Instead she would wed some fool who ignored the treasure he had, and Reynold would go back to the monastery to serve penance for his crimes. His sister would have his inheritance to increase her dowry, and his brother, the earl, would have the power of having a family member rise through the ranks of the church hierarchy. Did his brother even care if it were Reynold or Edmund? Did he even notice the difference?

Reynold realized he was being cruel and unfair. He would follow his brother’s wishes, for he deserved no better. He would rise through the church. He could not linger in a ruined monastery. The slow pace of life would allow him too much time to think of Katherine. He would make everyone happy but himself.

Reynold slowly turned his head and allowed his gaze to feast once more on Katherine. She lay quiet with her back to him, finally at peace in sleep. He regretted that his selfishness caused her pain and wished he could take on all her guilt himself. In
stead he touched her hair, winding a curl around his finger.

In the morning, Katherine arose as the bells rang out lauds, and readied herself for mass as best she could. She silently followed Reynold to the chapel tower, with its apse built in a large window recess, and a colored glass window high above. On her knees on the cold stone floor, she prayed for strength to resist her weakness where Reynold was concerned. She thanked God for the absence of the marquess’s son.

Katherine could not bring herself to look at Reynold during mass, for fear she’d be struck dead for her sins. Yet afterwards, in the great hall, where they ate hard black bread and ale, she peeked at him once, expecting to feel embarrassment. Instead, as he chewed his food, she remembered what his mouth had done to her breasts. As his hands broke open bread, she felt again his skin on hers, bringing to life feelings she thought had died a violent death at the hands of another monk. Her body betrayed her by flushing with warmth, not just for what he’d done to her physically, but for all he’d sacrificed to help her. And she repaid him by refusing to answer his questions, by returning his kisses then turning him away. She was no foolish maid too naive to understand what she did to him.

Reynold caught her stare and Katherine blushed and turned away. She just didn’t understand why he seemed drawn to her. Surely he’d been away
from women so long he’d take anyone. Yet last night many women had sent looks his way and he’d ignored them. Even now one of those women plopped herself down on the other side of Reynold and leaned towards him, showing most of her breasts.

“For such a big man, ye dance right fair,” the woman said, her smile exposing a missing tooth. “’Tis too bad ye couldn’t save one for me instead of running off after yer girl there.”

Reynold stopped smiling. “My wife.”

Katherine’s heart contracted for a moment in guilt, but she was also grateful for his devotion. She slid her hand into the crook of his arm.

“And I’m feelin’ sorry for ye, too,” the woman answered with a laugh. “Eh, well, no harm tryin’.”

When the woman slid off the bench and moved away, Katherine removed her hand without looking at Reynold.

“Thank you,” she whispered, then stood up to follow the rest of the travelers. She saw Reynold slip the loaf of bread into his magic sack before following.

A moment later he gripped her hand. “He comes.”

She knew who he meant. The young nobleman staggered to his place at the head table, his face ashen. He lifted his head, his gaze drifting over the crowd, and saw them. Katherine froze, waiting for a call to arms, and the sounds of running soldiers.

Reynold leaned into her face and whispered, “Cower from me.”

She cringed at the sudden anger he displayed for their audience. He grasped her hand and pulled her towards the wide door. Katherine felt more and more relieved as their ploy seemed to be working. She turned and looked over her shoulder at the nobleman, who gave her a lopsided grin. She waved back.

Reynold pulled her closer. “Mayhap you should not have done that.”

“But now he thinks he was a success last night. Won’t that aid us even further?”

He smiled. “You think quickly, Lady Katherine.”

At his praise she felt warm inside, and forgot all about the nobleman. She looked into Reynold’s eyes, and down to his lips, and remembered only him and the things he had done to her. But she must forget her wicked, selfish thoughts. Her mission to the king was far too important.

Katherine heard the rumble of thunder before she reached the castle doors. As Reynold came up behind her, she stopped in dismay and watched heavy sheets of rain turn the gloomy inner ward into a sea of mud.

“We could wait here a few hours,” he said into her ear. “Others are. And perhaps Lord Oaf will pass out.”

Katherine watched a few travelers laugh and turn back towards the fire. The peasant woman with eyes for Reynold smirked in their direction, pulled a wimple over her head, and stepped out into the rain with her small ragged group.

“I must hurry.” Still embarrassed by her conduct last night, she said, “I could go alone.”

Reynold eyed her for a moment, no emotion in his face. Her breath caught in sudden panic. Would he truly leave her, now that she had disgraced herself? She had known him for but a scant few days. Perhaps intimacy was all he truly wanted of her. Katherine shivered.

Reynold briefly bowed his head. “Your servant, my lady,” he said, without meeting her gaze.

Biting her lip, Katherine took a step out into the courtyard and sank up to her ankles in mud. She slogged on through it, watching each step for fear she’d lose the only shoes she had. Reynold took her arm and she leaned against him, shielding her face from the stinging rain.

Reynold felt her grip on him tighten. Was it all too much for her? Would she give up this mad notion to see the king and let him take her home? He wondered if she truly would have traveled alone. Maybe he frightened her now, disgusted her. He well knew that look in a woman’s eyes.

“Katherine?” he said uncertainly.

She looked up, and as the rain hit her face, he saw that her expression was serene.

“I have never, ever done anything like this in my life,” she said softly. “I didn’t know I could.”

Reynold didn’t know how to answer except with silence. She’d say hello to the king, or whatever she meant to do, and he’d go back—back to that place where no one laughed, where there were no families, no women, no Katherine. His mouth
tightened with bitterness and he looked away from her, ignoring the flash of pain in her eyes.

Hours later, thunder boomed above them and lightning crackled dangerously close. They caught up with four fellow travelers and walked together for protection from the elements. As they passed through a deserted village, where sheep pastures had taken over farmland, Reynold followed the group’s lead into a thatched-roof hut built on higher ground. The six adults milled about for a few minutes, then settled down in respective corners.

Katherine was wide awake. She sat on a damp pile of straw next to Reynold, her legs folded beneath her, resisting the temptation to lean against his strong arm. She relied on him too much, and he helped her more than any other man ever had. He seemed to believe in her, to trust her even though she refused to tell him the whole truth. That must be why she lost control of her emotions when he touched her.

No, she could not lie to herself. Just looking at his strong face and dimpled chin sent shivers through her breasts and between her thighs. She shamed her upbringing with these dangerous feelings. She could not blame Reynold for a weakness she obviously shared with him. The few times she’d met her future husband, James, they’d been properly chaperoned, perfectly polite and restrained. She looked back now and wondered why he never wanted to be alone with her, why he did not look at her with intensity like Reynold did. She
knew it was because of her arm. James saw it as her weakness, her mark of imperfection.

Yet Reynold was ever concerned, giving aid when she needed it. With a shiver she remembered his arms crushing her against him, forceful but never hurtful, powerful but not overpowering. He had made her feel desired, needed, something she never thought she’d have. Though she knew little of James, she understood she was merely his means of begetting heirs. Would it be different with a man like Reynold? Although he seemed to desire her, he also respected her opinions, even enjoyed talking to her.

Katherine forgot herself and glanced at Reynold, not bothering to mask her anguish and her need to be loved and appreciated. He caught her gaze and they stared at one another. In his eyes she saw bitterness and longing. A moment later it was as if a mask dropped over the harsh lines of his face and he turned away.

Katherine ached for him. She understood what was it was like to know you had to follow your family’s wishes. He was trapped the same way she was, but at least she would marry, perhaps have children. Reynold—he’d be locked behind high walls, with no one to love him. She knew there was something else that bothered him, but how could she ask him to trust her with all his secrets, when she didn’t show her own trust?

Katherine reached up and touched Reynold’s hair, knowing of no other way to soothe him. He stiffened but did not move away. She ran her fin
gers gently over his head, feeling the shape of his skull, the curls behind his ears. She heard him release a shuddering sigh as his head dropped forward.

“Should we stand out in the rain so ye can go at it?”

Katherine pulled her hand away and blushed in mortification as the peasant woman gave a raucous laugh. Her men snickered.

“What do ye say, love?” she continued, eyeing Reynold. “Forget that pale young thing. You and me can give ’em a day to remember.”

Katherine didn’t resist as Reynold drew her against his side.

“Enough, woman!” he commanded in a hard voice. “If you cannot speak politely to my wife, then hold your tongue.”

The woman seemed to hiss at them as she straightened from her slouch. “Yer tongue may know some fancy tricks, I can’t be doubtin’, but ’tis yer speech that’s got me thinkin’. Ye don’t sound like one of us.”