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Authors: Katherine Kingston

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He moved in closer, but when she felt the hard staff of his
aroused cock press against her, she jumped and moved away, tearing their mouths
apart.

Still, her eyes had sparkled with excitement and her lips
curved in a sweet smile before his arousal had frightened her.

“Your pardon, lady,” he said. “Some reactions cannot be
controlled. A man’s cock will rise in the presence of a lady he admires. Yet,
the choice to use it remains his decision. I’ll not let my body have its way
until you’re ready to enjoy it as much as I will.”

Chapter Six

 

The noise surrounding her would have been unbearable save
that it was the first time in many years such joyful sounds had filled the air
around the manor. Music floated across the lawn from a group of local serfs
piping and plucking with more enthusiasm than skill. Fortunately a more
talented group of traveling minstrels would play later.

The hundred or more people already gathered on the grass in
front of the manor sang, laughed, shouted, and talked. A few were already
dancing, practicing the steps in preparation for more serious efforts later.

Mary’s heart lightened as she circulated among the people
gathered there, asking about families, babies, marriages, elders, crops, and
other news. As her mother had, she tried to keep up with the concerns of their
serfs, but she’d been neglecting the job ever since the arrival of Sir Benwyck
changed her life so dramatically. It was time to catch up again.

But even more than their own concerns, all wanted to talk
about their new lord. She was bombarded with questions about him, making her
realize how little she actually knew about Sir Philip as she tried to respond
to the curiosity. Through her own answers, she also realized how much doubt she
still harbored about him. On the issue of whether they could trust him to stay
around to lead and protect, she could say only that he’d said he would, and she
thought it was true. She hoped it was true.

She occasionally caught sight of their new lord as he, too,
moved among the gathered crowds, introducing himself and engaging folks in
conversation. More than once she heard him laugh. The sound worked its way into
her heart.

Mary had just gotten a cup of cider and was enjoying a quiet
moment to sip it when she spied him talking with two young women.

Alspeth was married with two small children and another one
on the way. Yviane was unmarried but had already borne one child without
benefit of clergy and would likely bear more. She was reputed to be
well-acquainted with all the men in the area under the age of forty, and a few
of the more vigorous elders as well.

From her vantage point, Mary could see only the young
woman’s back and a thin sliver of her side, but she could read the come-hither
wiggle of hips and shoulders with no difficulty. The sudden surge of fury
rising from her gut took her completely by surprise. She’d rejected Sir
Philip’s suit, though he’d refused to take it for that. What right had she to
object if he sought relief elsewhere?

Nonetheless, her fingers tightened around the pottery cup
until they would have dug into any softer material. Mary drew a deep breath and
tried to calm herself, reminded herself she had no claim on Philip. It served
little purpose, however.

She only began to calm again when Philip turned away to face
a group of men who’d come up to him. The two young women blushed and giggled as
they walked away, apparently sharing their approval of the new lord. Not that
they cared much about his character. They knew only that he was strong,
handsome, virile, and available. What more could a shallow, silly girl want?

“Your expression tells more than you might wish, my lady.”

Mary shook herself and turned to face Brianne. The woman was
older than herself and the healer, herbalist and midwife for the estate. She
was also Mary’s closest friend.

“And what does it say?” Mary asked.

Brianne’s eyebrows slid up as she followed Mary’s former
line of site unerringly toward Sir Philip. “Dare we trust him? A man so
well-favored, so strong and straight, so well-spoken and powerful. Can he be
true? Can he be what we need to lead us in rebuilding to become prosperous
again? Can he be what Lady Mary needs to heal the wounds of the past?”

“You’ve seen all that in my expression?”

Brianne shrugged. “I’ve known you from your earliest days,
my lady.”

“And what say you to those questions?”

Brianne’s expression grew more serious. “My lady, I believe
he might indeed be all he seems.”

“Perhaps,” she agreed. “Time will prove it one way or
another.”

“Aye.”

“Is it true he made an offer and you declined?”

Mary sighed. “He made an offer. I explained my…limitations
as a bride for him.”

“And?”

“He has great confidence in his persuasive abilities.”

“Ah,” Brianne said, an expression that told Mary little.

“Ah—what?”

Brianne grinned. “I believe I could learn to like Sir Philip
a great deal.” She drew a long breath and her expression turned more serious.
“My lady, if you’ll listen to my advice…don’t fight him. You’ve little left to
lose and much to gain, and he’s no Sir Benwyck. Marriage is always a gamble and
a struggle, yet in Sir Philip, I think you have a better chance than you’d any
reason to expect.”

“I tend to agree, but it’s not truly him I’m fighting. It’s
myself.”

Brianne nodded. “Let him help you win the fight. Even if he
isn’t all we hope, he isn’t what we feared either. He, at least, will leave you
no worse off, should he leave.”

“Except, perhaps, for a broken heart.”

Brianne’s eyebrows rose. “Has it come to that already?”

Mary shrugged, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “He’s
handsome, kind, courteous, and has offered for me. He’s now the lord of this
manor. How could I not feel an attraction?”

“Then why do you not accept his offer?”

“I cannot give him what a wife owes her husband. Whenever he
touches me, a part of my mind can think only of Sir Benwyck and his brutality.
Though I’d will it not to happen, a panic overwhelms that I seem powerless to
stop. I retreat and freeze up. Is that a proper way for a wife to react to her
husband?” Mary sighed and shook her head.

“What says he to it?”

“He’s confident in his power to charm and enchant me until I
forget aught else.”

Brianne smiled. “I say again, then, give him the chance to
do so.”

“I shall. But for now, I must to duty.” Mary noted that the
servants were beginning to bring out the serving platters of food, so she
excused herself and went to supervise. Grand platters of meats, breads and
fruits provided a bountiful feast. Torches on long stakes were planted in the
ground in preparation for the celebration to last into the night.

For the next couple of hours the details of organizing the
party engaged her attention. She had donned one of her few remaining nice gowns
for the occasion, and now had to take care the long, flowing sleeves didn’t
trail into a food dish on one of the trestle tables. She rolled them up and
tucked under the ends as she stepped in to help serve when a crowd grew too big
at one place.

Many of those collecting food complimented her on how well
she looked, and a few added how nice it was to see the change in her station
the last few days. She enjoyed being with her people, dressed as a lady,
filling that function again. For a little while she could even pretend things
were as they’d been a few years earlier, before Sir William and Sir Benwyck
combined to destroy the life she’d known.

Daytime was giving way to twilight as they finished serving
food. A boy went around lighting the torches. Mary left the cleanup to the
servants. The more professional group of minstrels had begun to warm up and
tune their instruments, so the real dancing would begin soon. She should be
looking for Philip, since the lord and lady of the manor would be expected to
lead the first set. But first she went to check that the minstrels had all they
needed.

The lead musician, a young man with flowing dark hair and a
glint of wicked humor in his gray eyes, doffed his feathered cap with a
flourish and bowed deeply as she approached.

“My lady!” he said. “Good even to you. A fine party you’ve
mounted here. And a lovely day you chose, for so late in the year.”

His good humor and lopsided smile were so infectious, she
felt confident the evening’s entertainment would be more than satisfactory.
“Thank you, Sir Musician. I trust you’ll grace us with your best this evening.
Will your music be equal in perfection to the other trappings of the day?”

“For you, lady, naught but the finest. We’ll give you all
our very best, and you’ll be more than satisfied.” He bowed yet again, dipping
so low he nearly fell forward.

“I trust your efforts will be equal to your claims.”

He tried for an insulted frown but his merry face couldn’t
retain the scowl. “Ah, Lady, I have no facility with words to equal the sublime
glory of the music we play.”

Mary laughed. “Either you underestimate your verbal gifts or
you truly will transport us to worlds divine.”

A voice from behind her said, “That’s a pleasant sound to
hear.”

She turned to see Sir Philip standing directly behind her.
“Do I believe Sir Musician’s word, ‘tis naught to what we’ll experience later,”
she answered, thinking he meant the odd array of noises being produced by the
musicians tuning their instruments.

“I doubt it,” Sir Philip said. “Your laughter falls sweetly
on my ears.”

Surprise held her silent a moment. Before she could voice
any response, the musician had doffed his hat again and bowed.

“My lord?” he said. “Have I the honor of addressing the lord
of this keep?”

“Aye, Master Musician. Sir Philip of Alderwood, at your
service.”

The merry young minstrel did a small jig, setting the bells
on his shoes jingling. “My thanks, Sir Philip. I hope your ‘service’ to me will
more than balance my service to you. Yet do I think in the end mine will be the
poorer part of the bargain, since my service will entertain the many hundreds
of people here this evening, while yours will only feed my few, poor fellows
here.” He swept out a hand to indicate the other members of his troupe.

Sir Philip smiled. “When your stay is ended and all services
rendered, then can we judge more accurately who gained most in the exchange.”

The musician nodded. “As you say, my lord. We’ll do our turn
and throw ourselves on your good nature.”

“You’re of an optimistic turn, then, Master Musician.”

For a moment the young man’s face went solemn. “Nay, my lord.
I take each day as it comes, the good and the bad, and try to change what I
can, and live with what I cannot.”

“A wise philosophy,” Sir Philip said. “Yet you will find I
believe in fair recompense for services well rendered.”

The smile returned to the musician’s face. “Then we should
embark on earning a great reward,” he said. “My lord and lady.”

Philip put a gentle hand on her arm and said quietly, “I
believe it’s customary for the lord and lady to open the dancing. Can you bear
to partner me for one round at least?”

“Aye, my lord. But a moment, if you please.” She turned to
the musicians once more. “Have you all that you need, sirs? A pitcher of ale is
there for your thirst, and I presume you’ve supped?”

“Our thanks, my lady,” the young spokesman said. “We’re well
supplied.”

She nodded and allowed Philip to lead her to the center of a
large square set off by a set of torch stakes. Other couples and individuals
waited there, beginning to form into lines for the dance.

Philip’s hand rested on her arm, sending strange little
spurts of warmth running along her flesh. When his thumb smoothed lightly
across the inside of her wrist, below where she’d tucked up the tails of her
sleeve, the sensations ran like rivers of liquid fire up her arm and all around
her body. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before, at once
exhilarating and alarming. She shivered lightly, but he felt it.

“Are you well, Lady Mary?” he asked. “Has the work been too
much for you? You’ve had little rest these past few days, with all the
preparations.”

“I’m well, my lord,” she said. “Just a momentary chill.”
With evening falling, the air was becoming cooler. “Once the dance begins, I’ll
warm rapidly.”

He nodded and looked around. For the first time, she noticed
he appeared uneasy. “I fear you’ll find me a poor partner,” he said. “I’m too
big and awkward to make a pretty figure dancing.”

“My lord, I doubt it. I watched you practice with the sword
in the yard yesterday. There’s naught that is awkward about you. It seemed to
me much of your cut and thrust was just another form of dance. One done more
quickly and with no music save the clash of steel on steel, yet the movements
were of a pattern, and there was an appealing rhythm to it.”

For a moment he was stunned, but before he could say more, a
flourish of the horn announced the musicians’ readiness to begin. People fell
into place behind them.

Mary had begun learning dance steps almost as soon as she
could walk. She loved the feel of the movement, the way her body seemed to flow
with the music, becoming a channel for sound to be made visible in motion.
Without any conscious thought on her part, her feet moved into the steps, her
shoulders dipped and twisted, her knees bent and hips swiveled as the pattern
demanded.

All the time her attention remained on her partner. Contrary
to his claim, Sir Philip moved with careful grace and dignity through even the
most complex steps. Twilight moved into darkness as they stepped, rounded,
twisted, and swayed to the rhythm of the music. The torches reflected joyful
glints in his eyes, though his mouth showed as an even line over the neat
beard. Flashes of light sprayed glorious highlights in his thick, curly black
hair, most prominent when he bent his head or turned rapidly. The flickering
light cast deep shadows across his face, highlighting the hard lines of jaw and
cheekbone.

She hated to show her admiration so openly by staring at
him, yet her will to resist was subverted by an even stronger desire to watch
him. Each time she looked his way, his gaze was fixed on her. His eyes caught
and held her own to the exclusion of all else. Whenever the pattern of the
dance brought them face to face or hand to hand, his lips curved into a small,
private smile that made her heart start to pound and her breath come faster.

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