The Shrinemaiden (The Maidens) (37 page)

BOOK: The Shrinemaiden (The Maidens)
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She had not been idle. It was easy to learn the whereabouts of her erring captain, and the whole populace, who had already learned about her further abuse by the king, were only to eager to help. “He has a small estate outside of the city, two leagues away,” Shannika tells Adelai, as the two sat together in her parlor, the first day Adelai was allowed out of the palace on her own. “I have enough credible sources to believe that he’s retreated there. Are you sure about this, Adelai? There could be a million reasons why he might have left. He hasn’t quite forgiven himself for Garrant’s treatment of you, for one thing. Do not think that he has abandoned you,” she added hurriedly, “he sat by your bed day and night and rarely slept himself.”

“I know,” Adelai said soberly, a small smile on her lips. “And he left because he wanted me to make my decision without his influence, didn’t he? He may have had a million reasons to leave, Shan, but I have a million and one reasons why I should go.”

The following week, with the others’ blessing, she left Arbentide.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Home

 

 

The Altfyre estates were just as unpretentious as its master. Adelai’s first impression was of rolling hills, interspersed by grove of trees in each side, sometimes as far as the eye can see. Small hamlets dot the landscape, simple villages where hardworking farmers toiled the fields around and children ran out of their huts to wave cheerfully at her carriage as it rolled past, laughing when Adelai stuck her head out of the window to wave back.

The Altfyres had owned the land around for generations, she knew. While they were considered landed gentry, they were knights rather than the higher ranked ‘gentlemen’, the former being an honor conferred by the crown for military honors earned in the battlefield. Shannika had told her how Thornton’s great-great-great-great grandfather had worked the farm together with his tenant farmers despite his new titles. He had started life as a stonemason’s son and, the good lady said, had no such airs of the other noblemen, instead preferring to work with his hands even when he no longer had to. In many ways, the Altfyres that came after him shared that trait.

The country house came into view - it was smaller than others she’d seen, less immense than the estates the Earl of Sevigne and the Jackal had owned - but Adelai felt a bolt of recognition, upon laying eyes on it for the first time. It was modest and unassuming, but it looked warm and welcoming and beautiful. It felt like she was finally knowing what a home looked like, this place where Thornton had grown up in.

The butler was taken aback when the carriage wheeled to a halt by the entrance, and was even more astounded when Adelai embarked, looking sheepish. She had not given any prior warning, and she didn’t know how well she would be received.

She swooped down on the poor butler with a vengeance, asking him Thornton’s whereabouts until he managed a reply, and hurried off before the man had time to realize what was happening. She had brought no luggage, only a small case for a change of clothes and a few essentials. She had to prepare herself for the chance that she might not be a welcome visitor in the Altfyre household, though she was determined to see him first before even wanting to entertain that idea.

She found Thornton at the back of the house. He was stripped bare to the waist, his muscular chest and arms gleaming from sweat. He was chopping firewood, carefully setting one large piece over a stump and cutting it effortlessly in two with one broad stroke. He hadn’t seen her yet, and Adelai paused for a moment to take in the scene, enjoying the way his arms rippled, how his brow creased while he concentrated on the task at hand. It was when he was reaching toward a third piece of wood did Adelai finally take a deep breath, and step forward.

“Thornton?”

He looked up and froze at the sight of her, clad in the same woolen gown and riding cape she’d worn when they had met for the first time. Even then, it was hard to read his face, and Adelai wasn’t quite sure if he looked pleased or angry to see her standing there.

“Hello,” she said nervously. He wasn’t smiling, and she was beginning to doubt her own reassurances that he still wanted her.

He didn’t say anything, so she pushed on. “This is a beautiful place. I - I really like your house.”

“It’s not as big or as impressive as others,” he said abruptly. He wasn’t asking her to leave, and she found hope in that.

“I know,” she said and took a step toward him. “I still like it better.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking, your Grace,” he said, his tone brusque, and Adelai realized he’d known about her new title even before he’d left. “You’d be better off somewhere else, where you’d be treated the way you should have been.”

And then she understood. He hadn’t left because he was angry at her - he’d left because he thought she would be angry at him.

“You’re wrong,” she said and took another step. Thornton leaned against the ax, the firewood forgotten, as he watched her approach. “This is exactly where I want to be. Every step I’ve made since setting foot in Sarcopia, was one step closer to coming here, to be where you are.” Her voice turned pleading. “Thornton, please don’t turn me away. I risked too much for you to change your mind on me.”

His expression did not change, but his eyes did softened, fading into bright liquid blue. “I let him hurt you, Adelai.”

“You let him hurt me, because you promised,” she said, reminding him of that night they spent together before she and Shannika left for the palace. “You promised that whatever he did, you would not give yourself away. That your promise was as good as your trust in me.”

“Not after he whipped you. Not when he deliberately hurt you. If I’d been in the palace when he… I would have killed him. And even then I broke that promise. I dismissed the guards and came to you afterward. No doubt that made him suspect me, and planned his revenge. You deserve someone else who won’t put you through everything I did.”

She laughed then, her heart soaring. “I can be strong too, Thornton. Everything I went through was for and because of you, just as everything you did was for and because of me. I wouldn’t do this for anyone else, and I know the same holds true for you. I love you, Thornton. That will never change, even if your feelings for me do. I am here, and I am yours, if you still want me.”

“Want you?” She found herself being lifted off her feet and being kissed, Thornton’s mouth warm and hot against hers. He smelled masculine, of clean sweat and earth, and Adelai clung to him, missing the way he touched and felt and tasted.

“I wanted to give you time to decide for yourself, to leave me for someone better if you wanted to.” Thornton murmured, his lips moving across her jawline. “You’re a duchess now, Adelai, of two kingdoms. I know Saleia released you from the rest of your oaths. You could go anywhere, do anything you want to.”

“But
I want you
, my Adelai. I want you, desperately.” His hands gripped her skirts, pulling them up. “I want you so bad I ache for you. I want you in my house, in my bed, by my side. I left, because I didn’t want to be there if you changed your mind, as was your right. But I swear to you now that I will make up for everything. I will die first before I will let anyone harm you, ever again.”

“I’m not changing my mind,” the words came out in a near sob as she kissed every part of him she could reach - his mouth, his cheeks, his neck. “I want to be here, to be in your bed, to be by your side. I would give up everything they gave me, if only I can have you.”

He backed her up against a large oak tree, pinning her there while he succeeded in bunching her skirts around her waist, his hands seeking eagerly at her lace shift, pulling it urgently to one side so his fingers could graze her sex. Adelai realized that her words were only increasing his desire. “I can’t wait, Adelai,” he growled, unlacing his own breeches. In one swift move he lifted her up again, her legs wrapping around his waist as he angled his cock against her entrance. The feeling of him rubbing against her made her moan.

“Yes,” she panted, encouraging him. “I want you now, Thornton. I want to feel you fucking me here, exactly like this. Hard and deep, the way you know I like it. Oh!” she squealed when he drove into her. She was dripping wet, and it was easy for him to bottom out inside her with only a couple of thrusts. Her clit spasmed around his thick rod, welcoming its rough intrusion. He slowed down, kissing her deliberately, and she groaned, wriggling her hips for him to continue.

“Do you want to be fucked, Adelai?”

“Yes,” she gasped. It didn’t matter that they were outside and anyone could see them. All she wanted was for him to keep thrusting into her like that, to give her the release she’d been craving for.

“Good,” His smile was almost cruel in its intensity. “You are mine, Adelai. This mouth,” he leaned forward and kissed her hard again, “this body,” he moved lower and bit her breast through the gown, his teeth hard against her nipple. She moaned at the mild pain it caused. “And this pussy,” he withdrew slowly, then plowed into her again, and this time she shrieked. “All mine. No one else is ever going to have you again.”

He started pistoning in and out of her, her round ass crashing into his groin from the force of his ramming. She rode him hard in response, enjoying the look of pure unadulterated lust on his face as he watched her bouncing up and down on top of him. Already she could feel her orgasm growing, the novelty of their surroundings adding to her heightened lust, and when the wave crashed over her she had to bite his shoulder to muffle her screams. Her pussy walls clenched tightly round him, but he ignored her climax and continued to shove his cock up into her, his rod so rigidly swollen that there was no give, no room for compromise as he bruised her tender walls. He pounded between her legs, rocking her body with savage fucking until she creamed around him again. Only then did he shove into her, as hard and as deep as he could go, and Adelai felt like he was hitting the back of her cunny when he spurted inside of her.

They remained motionless for a few minutes, Thornton’s thrusts slowing down as they both caught their breaths. Finally, he laughed - a low, sexy sound. “Now that I’m not out of control with lust for you,” he said, and kissed her gently, “we’ll go slower next time.”

 

It would not be accurate to say that Adelai spent the next several days on her back, being serviced by Thornton’s cock. In fact, some days she was on top, grunting and panting as she rode Thornton hard, his hands on her hips the only reason she hadn’t fallen off him after orgasming hard. Other times she was bent over the side of the bed, her legs spread eagerly to accommodate him as he fucked her from behind, her buttocks red from the hard slaps he had administered there. It was like rediscovering his body and her own all over again, and this time came the happiness and the knowledge that there was little else to darken the horizon. There was no threat looming over them, no other danger posed.

There was only Thornton, unspeakably tender and demandingly rough at the same time, his eyes dark, the feel of him moving inside her, his hands possessively around her. He kissed her scars, apologies against her skin, and asked her for forgiveness - she could not. There was nothing he’d done to forgive him for. There was only the two of them entwined on the bed, fucking, making love, both at once. There was nothing else in the world in the span of those many days, but Adelai, and Thornton, and love.

 

A missive from Shannika arrived some time later. Adelai, sitting beside the dresser, read it out loud to Thornton, who was dressed but was still lounging in bed.

“As you have not yet returned from the Altfyre estates I presume all is well with you and the captain of the guard,” she read, “you might recall the new Sarcopian ruler you helped placed on the throne? A wedding invitation is to be delivered to the good captain before the week is out, but I thought you might appreciate my advance warning. If you could get out of bed long enough to at least attend the betrothal announcement that shall take place in three days’ time, we would be much obliged.”

A small postscript was penciled in underneath the Silvermaiden’s signature. “Or perhaps there are two wedding invitations to look forward to?”

“Sounds like her,” Thornton grunted, when Adelai finished.

“I suppose we should attend,” Adelai agreed, though a little reluctant at the thought of having to leave. She loved Thornton’s home, had thrown herself whole-heartedly into the planning and managing of the household, much to the butler’s delight. She loved spending time with Thornton, who never ran out of things to show her about his lands, from the broad ranches and fields to the kind villagers on his land who obviously adored their hard-working burgher.

“It might be good for us to stay in the city for awhile. I do not know if I still hold my position, but even then they will need help putting Sarcopia back in order. I have already been remiss in my duties as it is.”

“You still are, Lady Shannika said as much in the letter.” She grinned at him. “Why so grouchy?”

“I was hoping to introduce the idea to you, but Lady Maestre has an annoying habit of suggesting things she has no business suggesting in the first place.”

“What do you mean?” Adelai scanned the letter again, puzzled.

He chuckled. “For all you’ve done for Sarcopia, Adelai, sometimes you can still be clueless.” He reached to take her hand, and kissed the back of it. “We will need at least several months to get Sarcopia back into working order, and it may take some time for us to return here. But I hope that by then you can return as my wife.”

Adelai stared at him for several seconds, not sure he had said what he did at first. Her eyes welled up with tears when he moved out from the bed to kneel before her, supplicating. “Adelai, my love,” he said, his eyes never leaving her face, “Marry me.”

It was worth it. All the heartache and the fears, all the grief and agony and joy in her young life, all she would have gladly done so again, for just this one, precious thing. Thornton’s love.

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