A Passionate Magic (12 page)

“It’s an unusually warm day,” she said, “and
you look as if you’ve been working long and hard. Come into the
garden, boy, and sit in the shade for a little while and drink a
cup or two of my herbal wine.”

If anyone else had dared to call him “boy,”
Dain’s sword would have been out of its scabbard in an instant. But
Agatha was different from everyone else. When he was young she had
welcomed him into her house and fed him treats and told him
romantic tales of King Arthur and his knights. As a child Dain had
always found Agatha’s house and garden a sweet respite from his
mother’s harsh rule, until Lady Richenda discovered where he went
when he left Penruan on his pony. Then Dain had stopped his visits
in order to protect Agatha, but once he was lord of Penruan he made
a point of asserting himself against his mother’s protests whenever
someone at the castle needed the healer’s aid. And now he knew – no
one knew better – that he was going to have to fight his mother
again for the sake of the castle inhabitants, and for Emma’s right
to treat their illnesses. He did not look forward to the
battle.

“Come,” Agatha coaxed him again. One frail
hand rested lightly on his arm, and Dain discovered it was
remarkably difficult to resist her. “Sit here on the bench, while I
get the jug of wine. There are a few pasties left, too. Have you
eaten since morning? No, I thought not.”

It was pleasant to relax in Agatha’s garden,
to sip her delicious wine and eat the sweet apple pasties he
recalled from his youth. How agreeable it was to visit with a woman
who expected nothing at all from him. Dain ate three of the pasties
and drank a bit more wine than he intended before taking his leave
of Agatha.

Later in the day she brought more wine to him
where he was working, along with a basket of sweet cakes to
supplement the fish and vegetable stew and ale the village women
were providing to the laborers.

Dain planned to sleep with his men in
Trevanan that night, like them rolled in his cloak on the floor of
the house they had almost finished rebuilding. But sleep eluded
him, for his thoughts were occupied by Emma. Her beauty and her
eagerness to help his people combined to make him overlook his old
hatred of her family. When Dain tried to remind himself of how much
he despised Gavin of Wroxley, the image of that tall and formidable
warrior was supplanted by a more recent vision of Emma’s warm eyes
smiling at him. Every attempt he made to concentrate on his
long-held, cold rage was interrupted by thoughts of Emma.

He could not get Emma out of his mind, could
not forget the taste of her lips on his. His arms ached to hold
her. Nor could he assuage his desire by thinking of other women. It
was Emma, and only Emma, who was driving him mad with longing.

The sun was long set, the stars and a
crescent moon were shining in a clear sky, and all of his men were
fast asleep when Dain quietly saddled his horse and led it out of
Trevanan to the spot where the rutted village road met the cliff
road. There he mounted and set his face toward Penruan, and rode as
fast as he dared through the dark.

As he crept into his own castle, Dain
couldn’t help thinking of the legend of Uther Pendragon, who
disguised himself with Merlin’s help and crept into the castle
where the lady Igraine lay sleeping. He sated upon her his
uncontrollable desire and, in that sating, begat great Arthur. And
now Dain walked quietly up the curving stone stairway, too familiar
with every step of the way to require any light. He reached the top
of the stairs and pushed open the door to the lord’s chamber. As if
it were enchanted, the heavy wooden door made no sound, nor did the
hinges squeak.

Dain stood still in the doorway for a moment,
aware that here, in his most private room, he was likely to stumble
against the new chair and the tables and clothing chests his bride
had brought to him. In his own chamber he was like a stranger who
did not know where the furniture was placed. With a spurt of
resentment he reminded himself it mattered not if he made noise; he
had every right to be where he was.

The window shutters were wide open, allowing
a faint light to enter the room. That was odd. Most folk closed and
latched their shutters against the night air and against any demons
who might be abroad during the dark hours. Somehow he was not at
all surprised to know that Emma did not fear the night demons.

He tiptoed across the room to where a shadow
darker than the other indistinct shapes told him Hawise’s door
stood open. When he pulled on the door it, like the outer chamber
door, closed silently, as if by magic. Still, he discerned a slight
stirring from the direction of the large bed. It was possible that
Emma had heard him enter, that she was about to waken. Dain waited,
motionless, until all was quiet again. Then he stripped off his
clothing and headed for the bed.

Not wanting any interruption, Dain decided
the best course was to kiss Emma quickly, before she could awaken
and cry out in alarm at finding a man in bed with her and, thus,
bring servants and men-at-arms running to her aid. The bed curtains
were not closed, perhaps because the night was so warm, and his
eyes were rapidly adjusting to the dim light. It was easy to make
out the thick braid of Emma’s dark hair and the pale oval of her
face. He could tell she was sound asleep.

Dain knelt on the bed, bent over, and placed
his lips on hers. Emma stirred and murmured something. Her mouth
was soft and unresponsive, a sure sign that she remained deeply
asleep. Dain lowered himself to the sheets beside her and gathered
Emma into his arms, sighing with the sheer pleasure of touching
her.

“Who? Dain, is that you?” She pushed one hand
against his chest, waking suddenly, and Dain kissed her again to
stifle her outcry.

Her resistance ceased almost as it began. Her
hand slid upward, to his shoulder and then to his face, where it
rested, fingers stroking his cheek.

“You are supposed to be at Trevanan,” she
said in a lazy voice that told him she wasn’t completely awake yet.
“Why are you here? Is something wrong?”

“Yes,” he said. ”What’s wrong is that I need
you.” He allowed one of his hands to cover her breast, and he took
note of the sudden tension in her body.

“You did not need me before. Are you sure of
your need now?” Her fingertips stopped their delightful motions
against his cheek. Her voice was full of doubt. “Do you truly want
me, Dain? Are you here of your own will, your own free desire?”

“I am here because I can no longer exist
without making you mine,” he whispered. He caught at the braid over
her shoulder and began working at the silky hair, unwinding it with
an urgency he could not understand. He only knew that he wanted to
feel the long, smooth strands running through his fingers.

“I want you to learn to love me,” she said.
“I want a true marriage, children, affection that lasts beyond the
first passion and into old age. Heaven help me, Dain, I want all of
that with you.”

Her voice broke and Dain, lying close against
her as he was, could feel her gasp. She fell silent, as if she rued
her impetuous words. He had no answer for her. He did not know how
to love, so he responded to her plea in the only honest way
available to him.

“I want you more than I have ever wanted any
woman,” he said. “I can think of no one but you. I ache. I burn. I
rode here from Trevanan like a madman, just to lie with you. Give
yourself to me, Emma. Don’t send me away now, not when I am so
close to you, not when I can hear your heart beating and feel your
warmth.”

“You would accept my refusal?” She sounded as
if she did not quite believe what he was saying.

“I will never take you against your will,” he
said, “though I fear I will die if I cannot have you this night,
and I will do everything in my power to persuade you to give me
what I most desire.”

“Oh, Dain.” Her whisper was soft, as if her
throat was choked with sudden tears. “Don’t you know that I want
you, too? I have wanted you since my first day at Penruan, when you
came to me in this room and kissed me so passionately, and touched
me until I feared my bones would melt from longing.”

“I rudely mistreated you that day,” he said.
“I will not do so tonight.”

“I do believe you.” She caught her breath,
and Dain was painfully aware of her breasts rising against his
chest. Only the thin layer of her linen nightrobe lay between them.
Dain longed to rip the garment from her lovely body. He told
himself to be patient. However intense his own desire, however
blinded by lust for her he was, still he must control himself. He
did not want merely to ravish Emma. What he wanted was to unleash
the passion he was sure resided deep within her, until she
responded to him completely. Only then could he know fulfillment of
the need that was threatening to tear him apart.

“I am not sure how to please you,” she said.
“I have never done this before, except for that one time with
you.”

“I will show you what to do,” he said. “I
know you are a maiden, so I will treat you with care. I’ll try not
to hurt you.”

“I trust you. Please say you trust me,
too.”

For the first time since he had entered the
lord’s chamber a faint chill settled around Dain’s heart, slightly
cooling his desire and thus enabling him to think about what he was
doing. He did not, dared not, trust her completely. To trust Emma
could invite disaster for himself and for all those who depended
upon him. If he were a wise man, he would rise from the bed where
they lay and leave the room, leave Penruan and ride back to
Trevanan and stay there for as long as it took to rid himself of a
need he ought not to be experiencing.

Then Emma shifted her position and her thigh
brushed against his hardened flesh. The involuntary caress of her
smooth skin sent a fire into his veins, and he knew he could not
leave her. He would say anything, promise anything, if only she
would give herself to him. He could not take; he had never done so
with a woman, and he would not do so now.

“Please say you trust me,” she whispered
again.

“I do trust you to be all that a maiden ought
to be,” he said, magically finding the right words through the
fevered urgings of both his body and his mind. “I trust you to care
for my people with your herbal healing, and to be faithful to
me.”

“I trust you to care for me, to protect me
and to be faithful to me,” she whispered, as if she were speaking a
solemn vow. “And I trust you to love me, in time.”

It was not what Dain wanted to hear. He would
have preferred words of hot desire. But he reminded himself that
she was yet a maiden, unaccustomed to the ways of passion. She was
his to teach. He was older and more experienced. Surely he could
keep a portion of himself separate from her, so that he could
continue to guard his life, his castle, and his people against Emma
and any intrusion she might invite from Wroxley, while at the same
time, he would be free to enjoy her favors as completely, and as
often, as he desired. What a perfect, subtle form of revenge
against Gavin it would be to keep Gavin’s daughter so enthralled by
passion that she would forget her loyalty to her father and cleave
to her husband, instead.

He had barely finished the grim thought when
Emma wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer.
For the first time it was she who kissed him, and Dain nearly took
leave of his senses at the wonder of her embrace.

Her tongue touched his lips, and .when he
opened his mouth she entered as he had once done to her. Delicately
she touched her tongue to his. The eager innocence of her action
set him aflame. Dain’s arms encircled her, crushing her to him as
he began her first lesson. She learned so quickly that he was
forced to tear his mouth from hers lest he lose all control and
break his promise not to hurt her. He was hard put not to plunge
into her immediately, in order to ease the desperate longing that
was rapidly becoming a physical pain.

He drew a little away from her and began to
pull at the hem of her nightrobe, easing the sheer garment up and
over her head. She gave no sign of embarrassment, only raising her
arms to let him finish removing it. With her covering gone, every
bit of her body was available to him, to explore and caress, and
Dain reveled in the smoothness of her skin, the soft,
sweet-smelling length of her hair, the perfect modeling of her
fingers and toes. Most of all, he delighted in her astonished yet
eager responses when he touched her in places where he was certain
she had never been touched before. Not once did she ask him to stop
what he was doing. Instead, her startled gasps, her soft moans, and
the fervent way in which she pressed herself against his searching
hands all confirmed what he had suspected since the day of her
arrival at Penruan. His virgin bride was more than willing to be a
true wife to him.

Soon Emma grew bolder and began to return
Dain’s caresses. Her fingertips skimmed across his shoulders and
upper arms, then downward along his spine to the cleft of his
buttocks, and Dain shook with inner tremors from the sensations she
aroused. She caressed his thighs and his calves, all the while
murmuring admiring comments on his hard muscles and obvious
strength, and Dain was forced to grit his teeth tightly together to
keep himself from bursting apart.

When he kissed and suckled at her breasts,
she did the same for him, and Dain was aware of an unfamiliar heat
curling downward from his suddenly erect nipples to his tight and
aching loins. When he stroked his hands over her smooth abdomen and
rounded hips, and allowed his lips to follow the same path, Emma
returned the caresses a few moments later. She gave so freely and
openly of her affection that Dain was shamed by his calculating
motives and by his dishonesty. Yet he was unable to stop the slow
progression toward the goal that was the heated object of his
overwhelming desire.