Suzanne Robinson (17 page)

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Authors: Lord of the Dragon

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“Think about what you’re going to do to the whoreson
who took your clothes,” he muttered to himself. “Where’s your courage, fool? Find it again before you have to face everyone.”

Feeding his anger with thoughts of hanging the thief naked from the battlements, he left the field and stepped onto the path that led to the bridge. A farmer pulling a hay cart looked his way and stumbled, causing the woman with a basket of bread to run into him. She remonstrated with the farmer, but stopped in mid-sentence to stare at Gray, her gap-toothed mouth ajar. Then she screamed.

More people turned to gape. Several snickered before they recognized him. He stalked over to the hay cart and placed himself against it.

“Don’t leer at me, man. Get me a cloak.”

“My—my—lord. How—where—”

Gray considered cuffing the man, but was distracted by the sound of giggling. In the shadow of the east gatehouse, Gray beheld a slight, black-haired figure in violet silk. Juliana Welles had covered her mouth with a filmy kerchief, but he would know that rippling laugh if he were struck blind. Uttering a growl, he scoured the battlements to find that he’d attracted the attention of several other maidens. Fortunately, Havisia appeared, glanced over the walls at him, and shooed the girls away.

Peasants, reeves, bailiffs, and dirty children passed around him like flowing water around a rock and gave him looks of incredulity, and derision when they thought he wasn’t looking. The children merely sniggered. Blood pounded in his temples. He ground his teeth so hard he thought they’d crack. And Juliana Welles stood at the gatehouse and laughed.

“By the devil’s horns!” He pointed at a guard standing beside Juliana. “You, don’t stand there and gape at me
like some addled court jester, bring me your cloak at once. The rest of you, begone!”

The guard was short, so the cloak only came halfway down his calves. Gray swirled it around his shoulders and marched across the bridge while his abruptly silent audience fled. He growled at the guards standing on either side of the raised portcullis, and they vanished. Then he rounded on Juliana.

“Why are you smirking at me, woman? Get me clothing.”

Juliana’s smile vanished. “You’ll not order me around as if I were a pot boy, Lord Lack-clothes.” Her gaze slid down the cloak to his bare legs and sniggered. “Now that you know the discomfort of being the object of amusement, perhaps you’ll think twice before tossing ladies into washtubs.”

“I’d do it again if I had one handy,” Gray rumbled. His legs itched, and he was getting cold. “Now fetch my clothes.”

Turning with a sweep of violet silk, Juliana sniffed at him over her shoulder. “Fetch them yourself. I think I’ll watch your progress from the top of the gatehouse.”

Furious, he lunged at her and spun her around to face him.

“I’m not walking through the entire castle in nothing but this cloak.”

“Then spend the night in the gatehouse,” Juliana snapped. She yanked her arm free and marched under the portcullis.

As he went after her, something snapped at his ankle. A honk alerted him to danger. He leaped out of the way as one of the castle geese fluttered its wings at him and hissed.

Juliana laughed so hard she had to bend over and clutch her sides. Gray danced out of striking range in a
circle around her, chased by the goose. Juliana’s laughter attracted the attention of guards, maids, and grooms, who gathered to stare in astonishment.

Enraged all over again, Gray halted his flight, fastened his hands on Juliana’s waist and set her between him and the goose. The creature stopped, spread its wings, and honked while Juliana swore at him and tried to pry his hands from her.

“Thunder of heaven! Let me go, you sodding whoreson.”

“Juliahhhhnaaah!”

Gray looked over her head to see Hugo charging toward them. As before, onlookers found urgent tasks to occupy them elsewhere. The lord of Wellesbrooke descended upon them, swarthy face umber with wrath.

“What passes here?” he bellowed. “Can you not go half a day without shaming me? No, no indeed. I find you in the castle yard wrestling with—” Hugo noticed Gray’s state for the first time. “God save you, my lord. What … Oh, no. The stripping bandit has returned.”

Gray released Juliana. “The stripping bandit?”

“A God-cursed churl who plays evil jests upon my friends. He hasn’t appeared in months. I thought he’d gone, but—by the Trinity! Did you catch him?”

“Would I be standing here naked if I had?”

“Aye, aye.” Hugo appeared to remember his daughter. “And why are you brawling with this knight,
again?”

“He commanded me to fetch him garments as if I were a slave.”

“Only after you jeered at me,” Gray said through locked teeth.

Hugo’s brows drew together in a straight line over his eyes. Then he threw up his hands.

“What’s to be done with you?” he shouted at Juliana. “You’ve made a marvelous spectacle of yourself in front
of the whole castle for the third time this day, and I’ve no more patience. You, eldest daughter, will fetch my lord de Valence’s clothing with your own hands and attend him in the Lion Tower as a courteous gentle lady should.”

“But Father—”

“I’ll have a tub and hot water brought to the chamber on the second floor. Lord Quentin has gone home, and there’s no one in that room.”

“A tub?”

Gray was smiling now, and his smile grew as Juliana almost turned the color of her gown with outrage.

“You’ve been sinfully discourteous, my noble demoiselle. I’ve had enough of your temper, your rashness, and your disregard of noble demeanor. You’ll attend the Sieur de Valence for the rest of his stay at Wellesbrooke.”

“Father!”

Hugo stabbed his finger at Juliana. “Do it, or I’ll lock you in your chamber and sell that manor.”

Juliana was silent, more out of consternation than dismay, Gray was certain. He asked Hugo to send a party after Edmund and the others. He’d left them at the brook because Edmund still couldn’t walk long distances, and he hadn’t wanted Imad to strain himself either. When he’d finished, he looked up to see Juliana stomping across the bailey.

“She’ll mend her ways, my lord. I premise you. There’ll be no more of this shameful discourtesy.”

“I thank you, my lord.”

Hugo showed him to his appointed chamber and left to arrange for Edmund’s rescue party. Gray sat on the edge of the bed that took up most of the room and examined his bruised feet. He had stretched out on the bed, arms cradling his head, the cloak draped across his hips, when Juliana burst through the door and threw a
bundle of clothing in his face. A belt buckle rapped him on the nose. Cursing, Gray lunged up as Juliana fled and caught her from behind in his arms, trapping hers at her sides.

“I’ve had enough of your maltreatment.”

He was ready for her when she tried to stomp on his foot and twisted her around to face him, hugging her close. She grew red-faced trying to wriggle out of his arms. Then he felt her weight shift as she drew back her booted foot. He lifted her off her feet, holding her so that their heads were on the same level. Their eyes met, and he found himself distracted for a moment by damascened brilliance before he remembered his anger.

“What ails you, woman? You’ve harried me from the moment I arrived, and now you’ve ruined my betrothal to Yolande.”

“I harried you? You’re the one who ruined my herb pots. You’re the one who—who …” She blew a curl out of her face. “And then after that, you play the devil’s sweet-tongued serpent with Yolande!”

“Serpent? I but played the courteous knight, you ignorant maid. It’s clear you know nothing of the art of love. Maids like to hear such talk from their suitors. Would you have me simply arrange the betrothal and then fetch her for the marriage without ever having set eyes on her? Many men would have done so. Juliana, are you listening to me?”

He watched the progress of her glance, which had switched from his face to his neck, then his shoulders and down the length of their bodies where they pressed together. She gasped and renewed her struggles.

“You’re unclad, you knave. Let me go.”

He grunted when her knee jabbed his thigh. Wrapping his arms around her more securely, he squeezed her until she cried out.

“Good,” he said as she went still and glared at him. He smiled at her sweetly, which caused her to regard him with distrust. “Now, my obstinate wench, how would you suggest I release you without offending your maidenly modesty?”

He wished she hadn’t chosen that moment to wriggle, this time using her hips. Gray sucked in his breath, and his face contorted with the pleasure-pain. And she wouldn’t stop.

In desperation he staggered a few paces until he could press her against a wall and still her movements. Her head bumped against the white-plastered stone. Fighting an onslaught of desire, Gray pressed his cheek against hers, his body against hers.

“Don’t!” he cried when she wriggled again. “By God’s mercy, if you value your honor, don’t move.”

For once she was both quiet and motionless. He bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to think about his past as a slave to cool his boiling blood. After a few moments, he could breathe evenly.

He lifted his head. “For God’s pity, I never thought doing my duty would be so difficult.”

“Now will you let me go?”

“Not until you tell me why you’ve tried to ruin my plans to marry Yolande.”

Those silver eyes were cutting through him again.

“You care naught for Yolande. You only want her lands and riches, like every other rooster knight in Christendom.

“Now I know you’re feeble-witted. What is marriage but an alliance? Haven’t I just said I was trying to make friends with the girl so that we’d make an amiable match? Marriage among such as we is a duty, an obligation, an alliance for security and power. Unlike most, at
least I had a care for her feelings. But you interfered. Why?”

“Thunder of God! Because you don’t care for her. I’ve watched you. You’re not even interested in her. When you mouth those pretty words to her, your eyes are like ice.”

“You think love and marriage belong together? You know such a thing isn’t possible for a baron’s heir. I must marry for the sake of my family. But after all, you must realize Yolande is very young. She doesn’t excite me, not like—”

Gray stopped and let his gaze drift over Juliana’s features. Eyes with the gleam of steel and the sparkle of shooting stars, rose-tinted lips, and a determined little nose. The longest neck he’d ever seen, one whose line descended to those breasts he dreamed of. He was growing warm again. Long moments passed while he chased new and unlooked-for thoughts.

Juliana had appeared out of nowhere to devastate his peace. After his years of enslavement, he rarely lost sleep because of sensual cravings, not until he’d met her. Yet after only a few days spent near her, he’d given up trying to banish her from his nightly imaginings.

The longer he knew her, the more she plagued his existence. When he ate, he thought of Juliana. When he rode his horse, he thought of Juliana. When he jousted, he thought of Juliana. Worst of all, when he had been wooing Yolande, he’d been thinking about Juliana. The one was plain porridge, while the other was pure pepper and cinnamon.

All at once he realized he didn’t want to spend his life eating plain porridge. He’d been a fool to think he could. His senses were filled with Juliana, and now he knew they always would be. Even now he ached for her.

“You know,” he said lazily and softly. “In spite of her
riches, Yolande is quite ordinary. While you, my joyance, are above all that’s mundane. Do you taste as spicy as you behave?”

She began to struggle again. “Foul lecher! That’s just why you should leave poor Yolande alone. Why should she be cursed with a husband who thinks she’s ordinary?”

“Aye, and why should I be saddled with a wife so ordinary, when I could have you?”

She stopped struggling again and stared at him openmouthed. “What?”

“Yes,” he said, more to himself than to her. “You’ve infected my blood, it seems, so why not?” He looked down at her half in speculation, half in anticipation. “After all, my sweet joyance, lust and power often intertwine with each other. Do they not?”

He emphasized his point by moving his hips against hers. She blinked at him, and he could see that she didn’t understand. But he also saw the throbbing of the pulse in her neck and the slow flood of color from her cheeks to her neck. He looked at her open mouth, and placed his lips over hers. She tried to close them, but his tongue slipped inside her mouth. She went still, as a deer does when startled. He teased her with his tongue, then kissed his way to her ear.

“My sweet joyance,” he whispered. “Would you have me beg? You’re famed for your sweet care of others. You suffer when they suffer. Don’t make me suffer.”

Abruptly she seemed to dissolve against him. All resistance left her body, and he loosened his hold on her. Her arms came up to his neck. He delved into her mouth, then nuzzled his way from her cheek to her throat.

His hands slipped inside her dress, sliding over her breasts. The overgown impeded him. His head and sex throbbed together in time with the pulse at her throat, which he covered with his mouth. When her hips surged
against him, he lost all control and tore the overgown. His palm cupped her breast while he returned to her mouth. He was about to tear the undertunic when something behind him banged.

Gray lifted his head, turned, and found Hugo Welles glaring at him like a chained bear. Behind him stood four boys carrying a tub. Juliana cried out, then quickly slipped around him to stand so that she concealed him from her father. Gray raised his eyes to the ceiling.

“This is truly a cursed unlucky day.”

He expected roars, bellows, and howls. However, Hugo behaved most unlike himself. He put his fists on his hips, studied them in silence, and then began tapping his foot.

“Er, Father,” Juliana said. “Nothing has happened.”

Hugo shoved the boys back out to the corridor and slammed the door. Rounding on them, he said, “Which is it to be, de Valence, marriage or death?”

Gray threw back his head and laughed so hard Juliana turned to gape at him. Her frown deepened into a scowl the longer he laughed, but he couldn’t seem to stop.

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