Queen of Lost Stars (Dragonblade Series/House of St. Hever) (13 page)

Madelayne smiled at him and attempted to reclaim the tray. “Thank you very much, Reece, but I can manage.”

Reece wouldn’t hear of it. Not to be outdone, Ewan raced to the corner where a small stool sat and he placed it next to the bed. “Here you are, my lady,” he said gallantly. “A throne for Lavister’s queen.”

They had been acting the idiots for the better part of the week, ever since Kaspian had brought her back from her little misadventure. It was as if they had suddenly realized she was a widowed woman and they were, of course, unmarried knights. Oh, how they fussed and flirted with her, drawing a smile or a polite word, something they would have never done if Cairn were still alive.

But Madelayne didn’t want any part of their chivalry. Her patience was thinning. “Truly, good knights,” she said, her humor gone. “I can manage well enough.”

“But it is our pleasure to assist you,” Reece said, holding her arm as if she were incapable of sitting on the stool by herself. “Allow your poor, humble servants the opportunity.”

“Wait!” Ewan practically shouted. Madelayne jerked unsteadily, afraid she was about to sit on a viper or something equally as terrible, but Ewan merely snatched a linen rag from the food tray and dusted off the stool. “There we are. Nothing to soil that lovely gown.”

Madelayne was struggling with her tongue. Kaspian watched the knights make arses out of themselves and endeavored not to laugh at Madelayne’s reaction. But he really couldn’t blame them; she was a delightful piece of eye candy. Her silken hair was pulled softly away from her face and her green eyes were large and bright. However, along with all of the tolerance he was feeling, he also felt a good deal of possessiveness.

“De Poyer,” he finally snapped at Reece, “stop smothering the lady. Set the food down and be gone with you, all of you.”

Thomas grinned at Kaspian, winking as he herded the two younger knights from the room. When they were gone, Madelayne let out a harsh breath that lifted the tendrils of hair off her forehead.

“God in Heaven, when did they become so… so….”

“Cloying?”

“No. So… so…”

“Irritating?”

She jabbed a finger at him. “Exactly. What on earth has happened to them?”

Kaspian tried not to smile as she sat beside the bed with a bowl of gruel in her hands. “I think they are merely showing their appreciation for you,” he said neutrally.

She stirred the porridge and held up a spoonful for him. “Well, I wish they would go appreciate someone else. They’re driving me mad, I tell you.”

He took a bite of the hot food. “They’re young. You must take that into consideration.”

She shook her head, stirring the steaming contents of the bowl. “They never used to act like that,” she said. “Do they actually believe that… with Cairn gone… that I would…?”

Kaspian allowed his smile to break through; she seemed quite baffled by the whole thing. “Perhaps they are hoping. Any man in his right mind would, you know.”

She looked at him, feeling a strange tingling in her stomach that spread through her limbs. It even made her hands hurt in an odd, wonderful way simply to look at him, to feel the warmth from his eyes. She wanted so badly to ask him if he was a man in his right mind, too, but the words wouldn’t come. She couldn’t force them out. Lifting her shoulders, she concentrated on the porridge.

“I cannot think on such things,” she said. “’Tis far too soon after Cairn’s passing to think on another husband.”

Kaspian lifted an eyebrow as she spooned another heaping into his mouth. “You were thinking on it a week ago.”

Her cheeks, predictably, flushed. “I wasn’t thinking clearly then, not at all. I was confused.”

“And now?”

“I have my senses.”

“What are they telling you?”

She was preoccupied with stirring the rapidly cooling gruel. “To stay where I am needed. I can be chatelaine at Lavister Crag forever, always serving you and the household.”

He wiped a bit of mush from his lips. “But I shan’t be at Lavister Crag forever.”

A bolt of distress shot through her. “Are you leaving, Kaspian?” she asked anxiously.

His name sounded so smooth and sweet on her tongue. “Not right away. But someday.”

Madelayne looked unsettled. “But what if the new liege does not need me? What if he has a wife? I’ll be cast aside, consigned to the kitchens, or worse than that, he’ll simply send me on my way.” Before he could reply to her tirade, she rapidly stood up and set the bowl back on the tray. Her hands went to her mouth as if attempting to quiet her own blathering tongue. “I’m sorry, please forgive me. ’Tis not your responsibility to plan for my future. I should not rattle on so.”

“Hold, madam.” He wanted to get a word in before she jabbered off again. “You are, indeed, my responsibility. Cairn was my knight and my friend. It was under my command that he was killed. That, indeed, makes you my charge.”

She paused, looking at him with those magnificent eyes that took his breath away. “If you’ll forgive me again, that is a ridiculous statement.”

He looked at her, dumbfounded at her response. “Why would you say that?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Because you will have a wife someday. Do you really think she’ll allow you to keep a full-grown woman as a ward?” She shook her head again. “No, Kaspian, I cannot ask this of you. You have your own life to lead.”

He crossed his massive arms, giving her that disapproving look Cairn gave her so often when she was obstinate. “Your selflessness is touching,” he said dryly. “But the fact remains that you are still my charge. And as for any wife I might have in the future, who is to say that, purely out of convenience, I will not marry you? That way, both of our problems will be solved.”

Now it was Madelayne’s turn to be dumbfounded. “What… what problem?”

“The fact that you are so concerned over your future.”

She snapped out of her daze, shaking her head irritably. “I know my problem. I meant your problem. What problem could you possibly have that marrying me would solve?”

He looked thoughtful, trying not to appear as if his suggestion was anything other than practicality. Truth was, he was very much concerned with her reaction to his suggestion. He’d been thinking it for days now. Every time she entered his chamber, his heart leapt. Every time she spoke, it was like the dulcet tones of angels speaking. He couldn’t get her out of his mind, an obsession he had never before experienced. His response to her was physical; he knew that. It had been from the onset. But as the days passed and he began to come to know her, really know her, now there was an emotional attachment as well. For a man who had never known much emotional attachment, to anyone, it was an astonishing realization. He had no idea he was capable of such feelings.

But he was quite capable, as he was proving daily. Still, he was afraid to say anything to Madelayne, afraid of her reaction. With Cairn so recently deceased, what would she think of him if she knew he wanted to marry her? He didn’t want her to think he was an opportunist. That was the furthest thing from his mind. In fact, it had everything to do with his heart and not his mind at all. Now, they broached the subject but he couldn’t yet gauge her reaction to it.

“I am a warring man,” he said after a moment. “I am thirty-seven years old. I’ve never had a wife, but there are times when one would be beneficial. Our marriage could be a sort of business arrangement.”

Madelayne, who had been stunned and overjoyed at his initial suggestion, now felt her heart sink at his words; they sounded so very cold.

“Business arrangement?” she repeated.

He nodded, pretending not to be too committed to the idea one way or the other because she didn’t seem overly receptive. “Aye,” he said. “You would take care of my house and hold, and I, in turn, would provide for you. Sensible enough, really.”

Her brow furrowed and she turned away from him, pondering his words with a soaring range of emotions. On one hand, she could imagine spending her life as Kaspian’s chatelaine without a good deal of distress to that thought. But on the other hand, his suggestion of marriage was cold, without any thought to affection or warmth. She didn’t know why it bothered her, but it did. Marriage was foremost a business arrangement anyway, not a love match. But suppose he found a woman later that he wanted, a mistress kept on the side while his dutiful wife went about her duties? Madelayne shuddered; Kaspian wasn’t the type, she knew, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was offering to marry her out of pity. And that, in her opinion, was the worst possible reason.

“I do not believe that would be wise, Kaspian,” she said softly. “I’m not a suitable wife for you.”

He looked at her as if she had gone daft. “Now
that
, madam, is the most ridiculous statement I have ever heard. You are more than suitable.”

She shook her head. “You will want a young virginal wife from a good family to bear you many strong sons.”

“You are being fool….”

“Kaspian,” she spun around, her voice sharp and soft at the same time. “I cannot bear you children. You need a wife who can bring your sons into this world and I, as we know, am incapable of that. Twice I have tried and twice I have failed. I could not put you through what I put Cairn through. It would not be fair.”

He froze, staring at her, the mood of the room suddenly becoming grim and serious. “You are not certain that you cannot bear children,” he finally said, his voice steady. “The premature birth of your first son was….”

“God’s will.”

“Aye, it was. And you should not blame yourself for it, nor should you blame yourself for the second son so recently…”

“Born with the cord wrapped around his neck?” she shook her head, the pain of her son’s death still quite strong. “Once is an act of God, but two dead babies are something entirely different. God doesn’t want me to have any children.”

“That’s ludicrous.”

“Is it?” There was bitterness in her tone. “Dolwyd tore me asunder trying to take the last child from me. He told me that my womb was ravaged. Believe me, Kaspian, when I say that I cannot bear children. You’d be better off forgetting about marrying me and find yourself a woman who can provide you with a legacy.”

He sat silently, watching her pale face. She was obviously very ashamed to tell him her innermost problems, her physical limitations. No wonder the woman had been acting so foolish after the death of her family; she had good reason to on many fronts. But it didn’t sway his determination.

“Madelayne,” he said softly. “I understand what you are telling me. But hear me well; Dolwyd is not God. He may tell you that your womb is useless, but he does not know for a fact. There is only one way to find out if he is correct.”

She knew what he meant and her pale cheeks flushed at the thought of intimacy with him. “And if he is?”

He shrugged slightly. “Then so be it. I have never been one to long for heirs. In fact, children rather frighten me.”

“Why on earth?”

“Tiny, fragile things that scream and cry and run about like animals. I’ve never been particularly fond of them.”

Madelayne gazed at him, unsure what to say. She didn’t know what to think, for that matter. But one thing was certain; he seemed far too unconcerned about the matter. “But what if, by some miracle, we do have a child?” she asked.

“Then no child on this earth will ever be welcomed more.”

She stared at him, rivers of emotion coursing through her. His final statement told her volumes of what was in his heart and she, furthermore, realized that he was lying to her. He wasn’t frightened of children; he wanted them, as every man did. She didn’t understand why he should lie to her just to convince her to marry him.

Madelayne’s feelings were strong for Kaspian. So strong that she couldn’t let him make such a miserable mistake by giving in to his pity for her. The man deserved more in life.

“Nay,” she finally said. “I will not.”

“Will not what?”

“Marry you.”

His expression was impassive, though inside he felt as if he had been struck. “Why not?”

She couldn’t give him an answer. It was too painful to do so. Turning back to the table that held the now cold gruel, she picked up the bowl. “I shall tend your house and hold, and nurse you until you return to health. But I cannot marry you.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It is enough of an answer. I do not want to be married, not to you, not to anyone. Please respect my wishes.”

Her refusal cut him. When she tried to, very businesslike, feed him the rest of the porridge, he shook his head and lay back down on the bed.

She watched him, wondering what he was feeling. “You must eat, you know that.”

“I haven’t the strength to eat.”

He was lying again, but she didn’t say anything. Her heart was heavy as she set the gruel back on the table. “Can you drink, then?”

“Perhaps.”

“Ale? Watered wine?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, the pale blue eyes focused on her. “You.”

She knew what he meant. She didn’t know why her hands were shaking as she stood and unfastened her bodice. Climbing onto the bed beside him was an experience like nothing else she had ever known, making her heart race and her palms sweat. He never took his eyes off her as she pulled her clothing aside, exposing a rosy nipple. He put his hand on her breast, kissing it, very tenderly, before he began to suckle.

It was too much. Madelayne let out a sob, pent-up emotion exploding at the significance of his touch. Before she could take another breath, Kaspian’s mouth was on hers, kissing her so deeply, so sweetly, that she instantly gave herself over to him as if she had been doing it her entire life. His kiss was strong and insistent, yet so delicious and gentle that Madelayne thought she would faint. She could taste her milk on his lips and it was wildly erotic. But as quickly as he claimed her, he left her, back to her breast and suckling furiously. Madelayne could only lay there and weep.

Kaspian could only lay there and hold her.

CHAPTER EIGHT