The Tempest (23 page)

“Cassia, good God. You had the entire household in an uproar.”

She lowered her head slightly, but she could not fully hide her smilem sorry, brother. But I have returned. And I am very well, as you can see.”

Guy walked up to stand beside her, his eyes full of tenderness and warmth. She could not help but return his loving glance…even knowing that Stephen was eyeing them both as if he were a shepherd, she were a favorite lamb…and Guy was the wolf hovering nearby.

“Gisborne, I should like to speak to you alone. Come to the dining room.”

At his command, his forceful tone, the smile fell from Cassia’s expression. She took a small, worrisome step towards him.

“Stephen…”
“This is not your concern, Cassia.” His tone was firm, unbending. There would be no arguing with his authority.

“Go with Rosalyn and dress for supper. I shall see you when we dine.”

*****

As the maid fastened the laces at the back of her dress, Cassia frowned deeply. In the looking glass she stared at the reflection of Rosalyn, who was seated in a chair near the fireplace. Cassia sighed, looking to her sister-in-law for reassurance.

“What do you suppose they are speaking of?”

Rosalyn shrugged. “I cannot tell you, dearest. The business of men is not for us to concern ourselves with. Whatever comes of their conversation, we must accept it.”

Cassia felt her heart sink, even as Rosalyn tried to shine a better light on the words she’d spoken.

“I am certain your brother will take your feelings into consideration. He loves you very much, and family is of utmost importance to him.”

The encouragement was of little consolation. Thinking of those long ago days in England, when her father and brother had talked so passionately about King Richard and the cause, she was fearful. Guy of Gisborne and Sheriff Briwere had been the topic of many conversations, and always with such hatred and disgust. Now, Guy was downstairs with a man who held a deep-rooted loathing and mistrust of him, and if Stephen chose to be rid of him, there was little that could be done about it. It wasn’t just the matter of Stephen being a Baron…outranking Guy, and in truth, able to command him. The simple fact was that Guy was under Stephen’s roof, and as master of the home, he had absolute say in who remained and who did not. If he chose to send Guy away there was little she could do to change his mind.

But Stephen does not know us,
she thought
. We will do what we must to be together…even if we must defy my brother’s authority.

She knew that Guy must have been thinking along those same lines. He would do whatever it took to be with her…he had proven that many times over. And if the worst should happen, she would sacrifice her newfound family and status to follow him.

Her only pe was that it would not come to that. They both deserved a happy, peaceful life without fear of judgment or repercussions. Now, they had only to await Stephen’s decision…for it was his decision that would ultimately decide the path that lay ahead for them.

*****

With Rosalyn at her side, Cassia slowly walked into the hall. Stephen was in his place at the head of the table, waiting for the approaching servant to bring him the hand-washing bowl. Cassia knew it was not her place to make demands of the master of the house, but she could not help herself. She tried to sound calm as she took her seat, but there was a fear in her voice that she could not mask.

“Where is Sir Guy?”

Stephen looked up from drying his hands, his expression unreadable. It was a long, tense moment before he answered.

“I sent him upstairs to make himself ready. If he is to dine with us, I will not have him seated at my table looking quite so much like a vagabond.”

Cassia let out the breath she’d been holding…but still she was nervous. Stephen had consented to letting Guy have a place at the table. But as to whether or not he would remain beyond the meal, it was not yet clear. She started to ask. But her attention was caught by a new presence in the room. All heads turned to look. And there stood Guy. Her breath caught at his transformation.

His hair was clean and trimmed short…his face freshly shaven. But it was his clothing that made him seem like a different man. Gone was the somber black that he’d always favored. In its place he wore a tunic in a rich burgundy tone, with an undershirt of deep golden color beneath it. Doeskin breeches showed off his long, muscular legs…and Cassia couldn’t help staring at him as he walked, her heart beating fast at the sight of his gorgeous and manly presence. Stephen rose to his feet to address those around him.

“Wife. Sister. I would like to introduce you to my new Steward.”

*****

Several times during the meal, Cassia had to clamp down hard on the wish to leap from her chair with joy. She wanted to hug Rosalyn. She wanted to throw her arms around Stephen and kiss his cheek, to express all the love and gratitude she suddenly felt for him. But mostly she wanted to run to Guy’s arms, to celebrate the happiness she felt flowing all through her. She longed to feel his embrace…to share the warmth and passion of their kisses. But she knew full well that the smallest impropriety was not welcome at the dining table. Stephen seemed to emphasize his desire for decorum by directing the women to entertain themselves while he spoke business matters with Guy.

Cassia knew that the position of a Steward was, essentially, nothing more than a servant. Stephen had probably given Guy the job with the intention of pressing him under his thumb. But if Guy willingly accepted such a status, so then would she. If it meant he would stay, she cared not what his place was in the household pecking order.

Stephen had one Steward already in residence. But Wentworth was an elderly man and the burden of his duties was becoming quite a lot in his old age. The job would now be divided in two, with Wentworth overseeing the household staff and activities, and Guy managing the local tenants. During the meal they discussed the job, with Stephen explaining to Guy about the amounts of land he would be overseeing…how many tenants, how much rent they paid, when to collect, and so on. It seemed more of a business meeting rather than a supper conversation, but Cassia was content to at least see them speaking to one another in a civilized manner.

During the meal, on the rare moment that Stephen’s eye was trained elsewhere, Cassia found Guy looking at her. His smile was slight, his looks very brief, for he knew as well as she did that he must comport himself properly, for his position as a Steward would certainly be given a probationary period. But his glances said all that he could not express in words…and those grey eyes were dark with longing. It had been far too long since they’d truly had time alone. Those moments at the seaside, when they’d held each other so desperately, had been moments of deep emotion. There had been little of the physical cravings they’d always had for one another. But now that fears were banished, and happiness was at last within their reach, she could see in his eyes that he wanted her back in the most primal way…and she wasn’t ashamed to admit that she wanted him just as badly.
When the meal was done, and they all rose to their feet to depart, Cassia secretly hoped to follow Guy from the room. But Stephen bid her to stay.

“Sir Guy…Rosalyn…I should like to speak to Cassia alone.”

Rosalyn nodded. “I must go up and bid goodnight to the children.”

She took her leave, and Guy followed a few moments later.

“I believe I shall take in a stroll along the grounds before retiring.” He gave a slight bow, and his eye caught Cassia’s for a moment before he too departed. His look was quite meaningful, and it did not escape her attention…or Stephen’s. Once Guy had quit the room, he turned to Cassia with a stern expression.

“You will conduct yourself properly if he remains. Will you not?”

She turned to look at him…and for the first time since they’d been reunited, she found her temper rising. Though she maintained her composure, she could not keep the edge from her voice.

“I am not a child, Stephen. And I know quite well how to conduct myself, thank you.”
“Do not strike such a tone, Cassia. I am only acting as our father would have. And now that he is gone, it is my duty as your brother to see that you are looked after.”

She folded her arms, defiant. “I have looked after myself for a very long time. I am quite aware of my place as a lady and as the sister of a Baron. You need not fear that I will shame you in some way. But I am a fully grown woman, and if I am to show you proper respect then you shall do the same for me.”

He looked quite stunned by her declaration. She wondered if he would rave and bluster in some way, declaring his power over his home and all who lived under it. But he did not. Instead he folded his arms as his brow furrowed, and he turned his back on her to stare out the window. She took it as a sign of consent, however reluctant it might have been.

“Good night, brother,” she declared. Then she slipped from the room…and went in search of Guy.

*****

He could hear the gentle whisper of her voice.

“Guy? Are you out here?”

It made the corner of his mouth rise. He wanted to call out to her, to hasten her to his arms that had longed for her all these months. But instead he remained still, seated on the little stone bench in the alcove. It was a perfect setting for a romantic rendezvous, particularly on a night such as this, when the light from the moon was not so full, but just bright enough to allow the eyes to see. The garden path was a long and winding walk lined with jasmine, roses, and all other manner of scented delights. Along the walk were occasional alcoves for sitting, and at one such spot that was a good distance from the gate he had taken a seat to wait for her, knowing that it would not be long before she found him. He heard the rustle of her dress as she neared…the soft fall of her footsteps. Moving his booted foot out a space, he waited…and was rewarded when her toe caught and she stumbled, falling across his outstretched arm just as he’d planned. Moving her so that her face was looking up at him, he smirked at her, his eyes full of fire.

“Well now, this seems quite familiar. But I pray it turns out better than before.”

She gave a little giggle, and he pulled her close against him, leaning back with her into the privacy of the alcove. Her arms came up to wind around his neck, and his first impulse was to kiss her senseless…to recapture every moment of love they had lost these last months. But such was his desire to know the joy of her, particularly her enchanting smile and the sound of her laughter, that he couldn’t resist taking just a moment to tease her.

“As I recall, the last time I caught a woman this way, it ended with her wishing a pox on me.”

She giggled again…a sound of such delight and love that it fired along every nerve he had. He adored her to no end, but there was something especially tantalizing about her when she was happy in this way. Meeting his forehead with hers, he thrilled at the softness of her voice.

“There will be no such curses this time.”

He drew her close to kiss her…but she placed her two soft hands against his cheeks, looking into his eyes. And hers were shining with tears.

“Oh Guy,” she said. “How can this truly be? I thought to never see you again. Tell me now, my darling. How came you to be restored to me?”

He told her of his escape from the dungeon, the death of the Sheriff…and of Robin Hood. She was stunned, to say the least. Resting her head against his chest, she gave a sad little sigh.

“God rest his soul. Though I did not hold with his principals, he always did that which he thought to be honorable…at least in his own view of the world.” She raised her head, looking into his eyes. “And he led you back to me. For that, I am eternally grateful.”

He could keep himself from it no longer. Their lips met, and she needed no encouragement in opening up for him, letting him drink in her sweet taste. Lord, it had been so long since they’d been this way, and he wanted to be fierce in his love for her…to ravish her mouth with fire hot kisses and loosen her clothing so he could brazenly touch her. But somewhere in the haze of desire, he chose not to rush. They had all the time in the world now, and he wanted to linger in every heated moment. He broke from her lips, chuckling at the little sound of protest she made…and then he smiled wickedly when the sound turned again to contentment, caused by the soft exploration his lips were making along her neck and shoulders.

“Oh Guy, I have missed this,” she whispered. “I have missed you…so very much.”

She arched her neck, baring the column of her throat to him, and his burning lips pressed the smoothness of her skin as he murmured softly.

“I thought of nothing but you. Every moment, every day. My heart and soul have been in such torment.”

One of his hands began slowly raising the hem of her dress, gathering the long material up until he found her bare knee. He heard her intake of breath at his touch, and he covered her mouth with his to absorb the sweet sound of delight that she made. Slowly his hand was traveling up, moving along the silkiness of her thigh. It came to rest on her hip…and then, ever so slowly, he moved his fingers across the top of her leg, his touch oh so slight as it moved to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. She gasped against his mouth, encouraging his touch. Her hands were in his hair, telling him without words just how eager she was for him.

“Lady Cassia!”

The sound of a servant calling. At the sudden interruption, Cassia let out a little curse of frustration. Guy removed his hand, dropping her skirt back to its proper place, knowing they would have to part to avoid discovery. But he couldn’t force himself to let her go completely. His arms wound around her and he buried his nose in her hair, breathing in her sweet lavender scent as he recalled another heated moment that had been so rudely disrupted. He muttered his frustration in her ear.

“Blasted hell! History has a damned inconvenient way of repeating itself.”

The servant called out again, and they both knew they must part before they were found. Even as she extracted herself from his arms, he received several more of her tender kisses, which he returned in kind. She spoke softly between presses of her lips to his.