The Dark Lady (43 page)

He picked up another stone and threw it. It skipped along the water making five small ripples. His mind, as it did so often lately, moved to his new wife. She was something of an enigma to him. Just when he thought he had her, she surprised him.

As he wandered from thoughts of her temperament to holding her down and making her obey him in every way, he began to smile. As he reached for another stone, a heavy body hit him, knocking him to the ground.

He issued a loud grunt and began to grapple with the large and strong form that lay on his back, keeping his face pinned to the ground. His mind went to Eolian and was sure he had sent a man for him after all.

Fighting fiercely, Peter struggled to get off his stomach. He pressed his knees beneath him, brought one arm under him, and balanced on his elbow. The other elbow he swung backwards and felt the satisfying crunch as it connected with his attacker.

The weight shifted and he spun over, knocking his assailant to the ground. Peter instantly rolled on top and shoved his heavy forearm into his attacker’s throat to keep him pinned to the ground.

Vanessa looked up at him calmly. She had a grin on her face and part of the powder had been removed in the struggle. He tried to suck in a breath, but it refused to go through the clenched muscles in his throat. “Vanessa?” His voice came out in a painful croak.

He could not comprehend it to be her. It could not be his wife lying beneath him with blood running from her lips, cutting a thin line in the powder on her jaw. He took a shallow breath and pulled his arm from her throat.

Forcing the breath into his lungs he tried to make himself relax. He could not. “Vanessa, what are you doing here?”

“
Surprising you.” There was no crying, no concern as to the blood she was losing. Instead, she pulled him down, pressing her lips onto his. He could taste the metallic flavor as he tried to pull away from her, to take control of the situation.

Soon all control was lost and he allowed her to slide her hands between them. She first ran her hand along the length of his hard shaft and then released it.

He pulled her dress up over her head as she caressed his hardness. He began to pull his clothing off and she leaned forward and frantically tugged at them in an effort to help.

Once they were both naked she wrapped her legs around him. He plunged into her depths and all was lost as he rocked against her.

Gulls cried and scattered as they cried out in mixed pleasure some time later. Peter pulled off her and began to rearrange his clothing. He turned and watched her slide into her dress. “What do you think you were doing out here? I could have hurt you.”

Adjusting her dress, she ignored him.

“
I would like an answer and I want it now.” He took a threatening step toward her, but could not manage to make the anger come forward. He had felt surprise, then worry and guilt when he saw what he had done to her, but not anger.

She smiled sweetly at him as he began to slide into his boot. As he began to tug it on she said, “You could not have hurt me, you tried. It was not good enough. My mouth does not even hurt, even with all the kisses.” With that she turned and ran, bare feet flying along the grass.

She had a head start by the time he got on his other boot. It was either that or take one off, and either way it meant lost time. He raced around a bend and she was gone.

He slid to a stop looking around him. She was gone. Walking slowly forward, he saw a small stand of boulders. There was a small path in between those boulders and the lake. There was no choice, but to go through the center. A perfect ambush site.

He grinned, knowing that he had guessed her plan. He crouched low and stalked toward the rocks. He planned to go over them as silently as he could and jump her from the top.

Van smiled as she stalked along behind him, walking between the small shrubs and trees. She had only run a short way and as he turned to find his other boot she had slid beneath a small bush covered with small white berries.

Now she stalked the man who thought her stupid enough to pick so obvious a place. He underestimated her, and that was the first rule in war—never underestimate your opponent. Hiding in a small prickly bush, which when she moved jabbed her incessantly, she watched him climb the boulders. She was impressed at the silence and speed with which he did it.

She rushed to the rocks as he disappeared over the top of them, made it to the top, and peered over the edge. Peter looked around carefully. He looked left, right, and down, but not up.

He began to look discouraged and a little concerned. A loud grunt issued from him as Van jumped on him from the boulder above, throwing him to the ground.

Instead of fighting to get loose, he caught her leg in his hand, running his fingers up her dress. There he began to tickle her inner thigh.

“
Stop, that’s not fair, you cannot...stop.” Her breath came heavily as she squealed and screamed with laughter. Easily flipping her over, he took control. “Stop.”

“
Nay, I will not. You will learn the folly of your ways.” Peter panted and his grip on her slipped, but he regained control quickly. “When will you learn that you cannot beat me?” He tickled her relentlessly, until tears began to slide down her temples, her head and body thrashing to get loose.

“
I c–c–can,” she stuttered. Knowing only one thing to distract him, she pushed toward him, instead of pulling away. The moment her bare body, warm and moist from excitement and the remainder of his seed, hit his hand, he was through. Pleasure filled her at how quickly he responded to her.

The chase had been exhilarating and he didn’t bother with her dress. Shoving her roughly to the ground, he pushed it above her hips. She laughed with pleasure as she watched him fight with the laces he had just tied, tearing them in his frenzy to release himself.

Free, he drove into her and kissed her passionately. He wrapped his fingers through her hair and forced the kiss deeper. Painful swirls of pleasure pulsed through her and begged to be set free.

She wrapped her legs around him and moved her lips to his ear. “Harder,” she whispered boldly.

He responded with a burst of speed and power that she had not known he possessed. Pushing up onto his arms, he pounded into her with wild abandon. Her screams of passion echoed through the trees as she felt him spasm deep inside her.

He rolled off her, thinking if she was going to run now there would be no stopping her. He had done well to roll over, let alone run. But she apparently had no intention of running. Pulling her dress down around her, she watched him with an amused look on her face as he struggled to get his belt fastened once more. Moving his hands, she finished buckling it for him, and then kissed him gently. First on the nose, then the mouth. A tender kiss that had nothing to with passion, but set every nerve in his body afire.

Van deepened the kiss, making his mind numb with the gentleness of it. The love he felt in that one soft kiss tore at his heart. It swelled, hurting his chest and clogging his throat. Wrapping his arm around her sun warmed shoulders, he pulled her away and looked deep into her eyes.

It was not the first time he had stared at her eyes, so black they seemed bottomless. They were so right, so full of life and so familiar to him. He felt as if he had known her all his life or at least a lot longer than the short time since he had met her.

Deciding that now was not the time to ponder the questions of where he knew her from, he pulled her down into the crock of his shoulder. She laid her head against his bare chest and wrapped her arm around his waist.

They lay like that for several hours, staring out over the ripples in the lake and talking of the land and the castle, the people around it and children.

“
Will you be all right with me going to see my father?” Peter was surprised by the comment and more, by his gut wrenching reaction to it.

He still harbored a fear that her father was the thing she needed to take care of before she could leave. He took a shallow breath and hoped his voice came out smoother than his nerves were feeling. “Aye. I must say that I will be upset that you are gone, but it will be fine. Do you plan to go soon?” He hoped the answer was no.

“
Aye. On the morrow.”

“
Will you be gone long?” What he really wanted to ask was if she was going to come back if she got things worked out with her father.

She tightened her grip on him and snuggled closer. “Maybe two days, maybe less if things do not go as planned.”

He smiled.

Silence fell over them as the sun began to set, throwing magnificent colors across the surface of the secluded lake. It was a peaceful silence and Peter wondered how many people he could just sit with and do nothing, and still be comfortable. He could think of none.

The sun had set and he turned to tell his bride they should go before it got too dark, just to find her eyes closed, head still supported by his shoulder. “Vanessa, my love.” No response. He moved slightly and her head rocked, still she did not wake. It was unusual, she was a light sleeper. “Vanessa,” this time a little louder.

“
Huh?” She blinked several times and then smiled up at him. “What?”

“
It is getting dark. We should go. I had a hard time waking you.” He said it with a smile, but it sent a panicked look onto her face. “What?”

Van just shook her head with an unsettled feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. He got to his feet, pulling her along. She allowed the assistance, feeling a little dazed and unsure. How could he have tried to wake her and her not known it. That was impossible. She had never slept through anything.

Then she knew. The last thing she remembered was thinking she had never felt more secure, more safe. She had always known she had loved him, but it was more, she realized...She turned to him in wonder. “I trust you.”

He just looked at her for a long moment. “I am glad. It helps in a marriage if there is trust.”

“
Nay, you don’t understand.” How was she to tell him? She had only trusted one person enough to let herself fall into a deep sleep. Only Verges. She trusted him with her life, her heart, and every secret that she had.

She trusted Richard as well, but was never comfortable to sleep around him. She had always been afraid that she would talk in her sleep.

Looking deep into Peter’s questioning eyes, she wondered, should she tell him the truth, show her trust in him. Opening her mouth to tell him, she changed her mind. She tried once more, only to shake her head in confusion.

Now was not the time and Peter seemed to realize it. He smiled and shook his head. “Let’s get back to the castle and when you are ready you can tell me.”

She was surprised to feel tears threatening as she threw herself into his embrace. “Let’s go home.”

A comforting tenderness seemed to swim through her veins, warming her soul as she thought of that word. Home. It was a wonderful word she decided. She had never missed not having a home, until she had one.

In the massive dining chamber, the smells of the roasted meats overcame Van as she sat beside her husband. She rubbed her leg against his beneath the table and smiled at the small shivers of heat that exploded from the contact.

“
Lord Grayweist, may I ask you a question?” Richard asked. At Peter’s nod he continued. “Have you heard anything about the Dark Knight?”

Van choked on the meat she had just swallowed, the soft spicy taste of the roasted pork turning to dust in her mouth.

Peter tapped her back and handed her the goblet of ale. “Are you all right, now?”

She refused to meet his eyes. “Fine, I just swallowed wrong, I guess.”

Turning back to Richard, he shook his head. “I have heard not. You would think we would have heard something by now. I am beginning to wonder if something may have happened to that arrogant little snot.”

Van had no control of her tongue as the words just tumbled out. “What do you mean arrogant little snot?” Realizing what she had said, she stuttered “I–I mean, that does–that does not seem to be the way you should talk about a knight.”

The men laughed. “You have no idea who he was.” Peter turned to the others at the table, waving to the men who had come with Richard. “Ask any of them, they will know.”

She declined, but sat back out of the conversation. Then wondered how to get out of the room when the talk went in the direction of her temperament, well that of the Dark Knight’s.

Laughter came easily as they swapped stories of him. Peter leaned back with a fond grin. “I remember when he first came to me, asking to be my personal squire. I had one already or I would have taken him. He had shown no fear as he had stood before me.”

Van remembered the day well. She had been terrified and had been sure that she was turned down because of that fear. She was delighted to know that he had thought her brave.

Her face heated up with embarrassment and she fiddled with her goblet of ale. She had gone to him for two reasons. One was because he was the king’s champion and two because she was in love and wanted to be closer to him.

Peter’s voice drew her attention. “He was young to be a squire and I was sure he would not go far, end up dead or quit. I was sure it would be one or the other.” He gave a humorless laugh. “If I had known how he would risk his life to save me I would have had taken him. Not like the one I had. Ran at the first show of real trouble.”