Silverhawk (27 page)

“This is quite the place,” he said. “Stables are right nice. I found your devil ’orse and the mare Lord ’enry give you. ’E told Lord Osbert you took it and ’e meant to ’ave it back, and your ’ide with it.”

“He went to Chauvere, then?”

Davy nodded. “Took just one man with ’im. Left the rest to bring Lady Evie back. That one’s a right lady, no denyin’. Said she ought to go with ’im on account as ’ow Lady Emelin might need ’er. Lord ’enry said ’e’d cross the Sticks River afore she went on any dangerous trip. Never ’eard of that river.” The boy picked up the ointment as he wandered past the small table.

“I expect he meant the River Styx. The ancients thought it led into Hell.”

An arrested expression lit Davy’s face. He paused in the act of sniffing the contents of the container, then smiled. The boy had lost a tooth since Giles left Langley. “’E’s all right then, Lord ’enry is. ’E’s got a care for ’is sister, so ’e can be trusted. But I ’spect you know that, milord.”

“I am not a lord. You may call me Sir Giles.”

“I can’t call you Silverhawk?” Davy looked dejected.

“My squire will not call me that.”

“Honest?” The lad eased up to Giles’ side. “I kin be your squire?”

“For as long as I am in England. When I return to Normandy, you must stay. War is no place for a lad. Now. Tell me about your young friend and her cat.”

“You mean Missy? She’s just a baby. ’Er brother, the old one, ’e went with the king’s man. She says they’ll march way up to Scotland. But nobody s’posed to know. She said she ’eard ’em talkin’ about it afore they left.”

Giles frowned. Way up to Scotland to fight for King Richard? Looks like he’d been right, and if so, Lord Henry would have to be warned about the change of plans. Perhaps the girl knew more.

“Is Missy around?” he asked Davy, who prowled around the confines of the narrow chamber.

The boy grunted. “She ’elps Cook in the kitchen. You want ’er for somethin’?”

“Yes. Ask her to come up.”

When Davy had gone, Giles lay back and rubbed his forehead. If what he thought was correct, there was no peace plan from the king, no diplomatic envoy.

The elusive Paxton was gathering an army to attack Scotland. Giles had no choice but try to stop the ambitious bastard. Damnation. His own plans seemed to slip farther away, like a leaf in a river. He clenched his jaw.

It wasn’t long before the two youngsters were back, Davy leading the way, the small blonde girl close behind.

“’ere you be,” the boy said by way of introduction. “Missy, tell Sir Giles what you ’eard.”

Between tousled curls, the girl peered at Giles. Her eyes narrowed as if in contemplation, then she asked, “You won’t hurt Will if’n I tell?”

“Is Will your brother?” Giles’ voice was calm and reassuring.

She nodded. “The one that went to save the king.” She seemed to be satisfied with his appearance, because she went on. “I was lookin’ for Dammit ’cause of all the horses. I was afeard she’d be stomped if she runned outside. She was in the stables, as usual, an’ there was some of the new soldiers sittin’ around. They said they was goin’ to ride up to Scotland and take care of the enemies of England, and that the king would be real happy and reward ’em all.”

Head cocked to the side, Missy considered what she’d just said. “I’d like it if Will was rewarded. He might take me back home, then, if he afforded me.”

“Do you know if many others from Granville went with Will?” Giles asked.

“Some.” She held up a hand. “I saw this many.”

Five. But there could have been more. He’d have to ask his hosts. He had yet to meet the lord of the castle. And he’d have to request a message be sent to Chauvere.

Unless, “Did the lord of Granville go with them?”

Missy giggled and shook her head. “He’d probably forget where they was goin’ and get lost.”

“Davy, tell Sir Thomas I need to talk with him.”

The youth looked uncomfortable. “Well, sir. The Lady Emelin said as ’ow I weren’t to bother you. If’n I deliver your message, she’ll know I was up ’ere. And she can get a right fierce look to ’er. Makes a man’s belly wad all up.”

Giles was familiar with that expression. Nevertheless, Davy had to learn. “When I give an order, you carry it out no matter what. Whose anger do you prefer to face, the lady’s or mine?”

Presented with those options, Davy shot from the chamber. Missy watched wide-eyed, then turned her gaze on Giles. With wonder in her voice she asked, “Is it true you turn into a giant silver hawk an’ carry off your enemies?”

Devil take that boy! What kind of tales was he spreading? He lowered his brows at her. “And I eat them.”

She snorted a laugh. “You’re funny. I like you. If you wasn’t so old, I’d marry you when I grow up. Maybe I will anyway, ’cause you’re a pretty one all right. ’Cept I don’t think the new lady would like that.” With a wise nod, she scampered after Davy.

He was unmanned. Bested by two children. His reputation would never be the same. Stretching out, he chuckled, then winced. The wound pulled. He’d just rest until Emelin arrived.

He was dreaming of her naked in his arms when a cool touch on his cheek awakened him. Her beautiful gold-flecked green eyes looked into his. Their expression seemed an extension of the dream. Longing, tenderness, desire. Without conscious thought he reached up and brought her head down. If the movement caused him pain, he didn’t notice. She resisted for a moment, then allowed the light contact to guide her.

This is what he had dreamed of, awake and asleep. Her in his arms, sweet body pressed to his. Illness had not dimmed his desire, and it flared now, hot as the brazier in the corner. One kiss, one caress. That’s all he’d ask.

Their lips met, clung, parted, met again. The pressure deepened, and the tip of his tongue slowly, lightly, traced the seam of her closed mouth. Answering his request, she opened slightly, just enough to allow him to ease inside. Not too far. Not too fast. He didn’t want to frighten her away again.

He urged her closer with a gentle tug on her wrist. His hand moved to her waist, curled around the top of her hip, pressed down. She moved in a graceful arc, perching on the edge of the wooden frame. Her right hand hovered as if she were afraid to touch a spot that would cause him discomfort. At last it smoothed onto his left shoulder.

A rough groan rose from deep in his throat. All thoughts of gentle persuasion evaporated, and his right arm curled hard around her. Her body flowed against him. His hand slid up, cupped her nape. His fingers slipped into her glorious hair—soft, as he imagined it—to massage her neck, her head.

She lifted her lips, pulled back to gaze into his eyes as his hand trailed down, around her shoulder, under her arm, to stroke her breast. The green eyes darkened, the centers widened. Breath stopped as he brushed her nipple. Light strokes, gentle strokes. Back and forth.

This was not a dream. “Kiss me,” he whispered.

Her lips eased against his, then her head angled and her mouth sank into him, tongue stroking the tender underside of his upper lip. He shuddered. Bumps popped up on his skin, sent his nipples into tiny towers.

For a beginner, this lady was a deadly lover.

Her body trembled as his hand flicked from one breast to the other. He found the tie at the neck of her chemise and pulled it open, then drew back the side and slipped his fingers into the warm, fragrant depth. Not daring to pause, he curled fingers around one breast, its softness firming as he stroked.

Her mouth jerked away, and for an instant he feared she’d taken fright. But she turned to rest her forehead against his chin. The hot moist breath of her gasps against his neck was almost his undoing.

Merciful God. How he wanted to rip off her clothes, bury himself in her. She’d be tight and wet. And hot. His cock jumped against the light fabric of his braies.

The musk of her arousal drifted to him. What a fragrance, more temping, more arousing than expensive perfumes used by restless wives of ancient, wealthy lords.

He felt himself harden even more. The blood throbbed along his length that strained upward. Damn. He had to stop before he disgraced himself as he’d never done before.

But his body ignored his mind. He lifted her right wrist from his shoulder and pulled. She looked into his eyes as he drew her hand downward. Did she recall, too, the day he was injured, that slow, tortuous journey across his body until her fingers tangled in the curls at his groin?

She fisted her left hand on his chest and propped her chin on it. He could tell from her glazed expression she was caught in the spell of passion. As he brought her hand to his cock, her eyes widened, sparked. Her fingers eased open, tentatively moved down, then up. Through his braises, she touched the ridge around the head.

He groaned. Never had he reached such a level of arousal without completion. He must halt now, before it was too late. With supreme effort, he stilled her hand.

“Stop. Unless you are willing to finish what we’ve started?” His whisper was hopeful, although he feared he knew the answer.

Chapter Twenty-One

Emelin gasped as her mind struggled for control. Her body was on fire. Her core ached with a longing to be filled. And she touched what she instinctively knew would satisfy the longing.

That part of Giles prodded her as if it had a will of its own. She moved her hand back to his shoulder but couldn’t meet his eyes. Still she fought the nearly overwhelming urge to rub against that hard, pulsing ridge. She gasped as her hips jerked. She must regain control.

Cool air against her legs alerted her first. Then the glide of strong fingers along her leg. Captive to the light stroke, she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

His hand slipped behind her knee, around and up her inner thigh. Her heart thudded in her throat. Although her eyes were closed, a deeper blackness enveloped her vision.

The caress moved higher, and her legs eased open. Inviting that promised touch. But he must not touch her there. She was wet. How humiliating. She tightened her legs against his hand.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“I’m…uh…damp.” She would die from embarrassment.

“No, my love. It’s natural. That’s your body telling me it’s ready.” He stroked higher. “For this.” Her legs loosened, and with his wrist he urged them open. His fingers probed deeper. Aligned, they wriggled into her cleft. One nudged a spot that shot streaks of pleasure through her.

Seeking more of the sensation she turned outward, opened further. His magic fingers moved over her and into her, and then she felt the incursion of one into her core. Breath came in quick, shallow puffs as he thrust slowly in and out. All thought, all consciousness, flew to that spot.

Giles’ moan mingled with her own as the heel of his hand pressed in circles low on her mound. Light pressure at first, then firmer, as he inserted a second finger.

“Kiss me again,” he murmured.

Emelin opened her lips as his thumb found an incendiary spot. Sparks shot across the deep night of her vision, bursting into silver stars. Shudders shook her. Her cry was caught in his mouth as she writhed in his arms.

She lay gasping against him while her body floated like a feather back to earth. After what had just happened, shouldn’t she feel ashamed, mortified, repentant? She didn’t. In fact, she still ached.

He was so quiet. Had he been repelled by her eager response?

Beneath her fingers, his chest lurched with ragged breaths. Perhaps the effort of pleasuring her had pained him. She rose on an elbow. “Are you well?”

An amused grunt was the answer. “Not now, but I will be after you leave.”

Heat burned her cheeks; she jerked upright. He was revolted. Of course. How could someone as ignorant and untried as she begin to satisfy him? He must pity her.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I should never have kissed you. You must have thought you were obligated to…”

“What are you talking about?”

She averted her face as she fumbled with the chemise tie. Shame knotted her throat.

His forefinger slid beneath her chin and turned her head. “Emelin. Do you think what just happened was out of gratitude?”

“You said—”

“You misunderstood. Look at me.” Candlelight flickered across his smoky eyes, his face dark with what she instinctively recognized as desire. The corner of that soft, beautiful mouth lifted. Unbidden her gaze flew to his groin. His erect cock was pulsing, evident through the fabric. It fascinated her.

As if they belonged to another, her fingers stretched toward him. Her gaze flicked up in question to find him watching intently. Quiet wrapped around them in the dim room; they could be the only two in the world. At that moment, anything seemed possible, nothing forbidden.

“Did you not find pleasure?” Her voice was a wisp in the silence.

“I found much pleasure, but not release.”

Her face burned at his meaning. “Oh,” she whispered. She longed to return some of the joy he gave her. “Can I help you?”

His low laugh ended in a groan. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Emelin studied the powerful body spread before her. She had no idea where to begin. “What do I do?”

“Touch me.”

When she trailed a tentative finger down his length, he stopped her. “Like this.”