Cantia bolted up from the mattress before he could descend on her. Puzzled, he took her in his arms again to repeat the process but she balked.
“What is wrong?” he questioned, his lips against her face.
She shook her head. Then tears sprang to her eyes and Tevin forced himself to bank his fires. He looked at her with true concern. “What is the matter?”
She looked up at him, the lavender eyes brimming. “I cannot… the bed…”
He didn’t understand. “I’m sorry, sweet, I don’t…”
She jabbed a finger at the mattress. “We cannot use the bed.”
His brows flickered with confusion. “Why not?”
She still had hold of him, silently pulling him around the end of the bed to the other side. As soon as Tevin rounded the frame, he could see bedclothes strewn about the floor in the four foot section between the bed and the wall.
“What is that?” he asked.
Her expression was one of shame and anguish. “I… I sleep there.”
His dark eyes were soft on her. “Why?”
She gestured weakly at the bed. “Because it smells of Brac,” she said softly. “I cannot bear it.”
He understood, feeling guilt sweep him yet again. “Cantia,” he murmured. “I am so sorry. You are still grieving and I’ve been nothing but overbearing and forceful with you. Forgive me, sweet.”
She looked at him, her eyes wide. “You’ve not been overbearing or forceful at all. Moreover, at any time I could have refused you. I’ve not refused because I’ve not wanted to. I explained this to you, Tevin… what I feel for you is completely separate from what I have felt, or continue to feel, for Brac. I cannot sleep on a bed that smells of him because it is a fresh reminder of his loss every time I breathe it in. I will never heal if I continue to do that. And for my sake, for Hunt’s sake, I must heal.”
Tevin sighed, pulling her head to his lips and kissing her forehead. “I shall have the bed removed if it pleases you.”
“I think that is best.”
“No more sleeping on the floor. You’ll catch chill.”
She smiled weakly. “As you say,” the mood between them, so passionate only moments earlier, had cooled. She continued to study him. “So is this the end of your onslaught for the day?”
His brow furrowed, somewhere between amusement and puzzlement. “Considering the circumstances, it probably should be, don’t you think?”
She put her hands on his face, pressing her thinly clad body against his bare chest. “Nay, I do not,” she whispered. “I would resume where we left off.”
He couldn’t help it. His arms went around her and his want for her ignited full-strength once again. He was coming to realize his fire for her was very easily stoked. As she lifted her mouth to him for a kiss, he spoke softly.
“Are you sure?”
“More than sure.”
“On the floor?”
Her lips met his. “On the floor.”
Mouths locked in a passionate embrace, Tevin went to his knees and Cantia with him. He laid her back on the mound of jumbled bedclothes, one hand behind her head and the other moving up her slender torso. Her breasts were full and luscious in his hand and he was suddenly very intolerant of the shift that still lingered between them. He pulled it off, indelicately, leaving her completely nude. He gazed at her a moment in the weak light of the chamber, his breath literally catching in his throat. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. Quickly, his breeches came off and he smothered her with his massive form.
Instinct took hold. Tevin kissed her so passionately that Cantia’s head swam. She couldn’t breathe with the force of his lust. His big hands moved the length and breadth of her body, hot and gentle yet powerful. When he closed over a bare breast, she encouraged him. When his heated mouth finally descended on a taut nipple, she held his head fast against her. Her body was wracked with excitement as his lips moved over every inch of her sweet, round breasts.
Since she was not a maiden, there was no fear when he wedged his big body between her legs. They parted easily for him, inviting him into intimate places. Tevin accepted the invitation and plunged deeply into her, listening to her gasps of pleasure. Gathering her up in his arms to both hold her close and to support his enormous weight, he began his measured thrusts into her sweet body, overwhelmed by the smell and feel of her. She was slick and tight. Never in his life had he experienced anything so wonderful. Never in his life had he expected to. But the lady cradled in his arms was just this side of heaven. He savored every thrust, every withdrawal, feeling her body draw him in deeper and deeper.
His mouth reclaimed hers, kissing her deeply. He loved the taste of her. Cantia’s hands were on his hard buttocks, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks in his flesh. In the throes of her passion, she drew blood, causing Tevin to spill himself deep inside her. The frenzied pleasure-pain had been too much for him to take and it was a wicked enjoyment he experienced. Even after he savored his release, he continued to move in her. There was far too much fire and passion for him not to continue lingering over the deliciousness of their union. He continued to move in her, to kiss her, long into the evening. But at some point he did stop, and at some point, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
They slept soundly on the floor in a disarray of bed clothes that now smelled like Tevin.
*
The bottle prison was black but for the glow of a distant torch that filtered in through the opening in the ceiling. Charles could barely see his hand before his face, which is why he had taken to sleeping a great deal. There was nothing more to do. Moreover, sleep brought dreams, visions of Brac and he found comfort with his son. But then he would awaken, realize it had been but a dream, and close his eyes to beg for sleep once again. He had no idea how long he had been in the pit. Long enough, however, for his madness to grow.
Since the prison was so silent, the sounds of footsteps immediately roused him from his stupor. It was like hammer sounds in the deep. He leapt to his feet, unsteadily, straining to see who it was that approached from above. After a moment, he could see a face looming in the darkness but could not make out any features. His heart began to race.
“Who is it?” he demanded. “Announce yourself.”
“It is Dagan, my lord,” the knight lowered his face so that Charles could see clear his features. “I came to see how you are faring.”
Charles looked up at the knight in the hole, recognizing him as one of the knights who had imprisoned him.
“I am still in my own dungeon, fool. How would you be?”
Dagan lifted an eyebrow. “My lord, I suggested the last time I saw you that a display of good behavior could possibly see you released from your confinement.”
Charles put his hands on his hips. “Are you in charge of my dungeons now?”
“Lord Tevin has given assignments to his men. I hold the dungeons and the gatehouse.”
“Then let me out.”
“I cannot, my lord. Not without orders.”
A food basket came down to him, lowered by a rope. Charles ignored it for a few moments, thinking to make a statement, but reconsidered when he realized how hungry he was. He did not know when last he ate. He grabbed the bread and mutton and chewed noisily. The basket was reeled back up.
“Did you consider my offer?” he called up to Dagan.
The knight knelt beside the opening. “What offer is that, my lord?”
“My son’s wife for my freedom.”
Dagan’s attention lingered on the old man below. He was half-hoping to hear the question, half-hoping he would not. Truth be told, he was struggling. Dagan was an honorable knight, but he was also growing old and fewer opportunities were presenting themselves. Though the offer came from a madman, still, he could not completely discount it. He had actually allowed himself to entertain it and felt like a devil for doing so.
“I have not, my lord,” he lied.
“Why not?”
“Because it is n
ot reasonable, nor is it possible.”
“But it is. Rochester, and my son’s widow, belongs to me. They are mine to do with as I please, and I would offer Lady Cantia to you in exchange for my freedom.”
Dagan sighed heavily. “Though your offer is generous, I cannot seriously consider it. In the first place, to release you from this prison would be in direct violation of my liege’s order. Secondly, the lady and I would have nowhere to go. I do not have property and I would surely have to take her from this place.”
“But she has property,” Charles stopped chewing when he realized he might actually be able to bargain himself from this hell. “Her father left her two manors. They would belong to you if you married her.”
“And where are these magnificent homes?”
“Gillingham is a fortified home to the west and Darland is another home a few miles to the southwest. They are wealthy holdings with grain and sheep production.”
It was odd how Charles did not sound so much like a madman at all when discussing his daughter-in-law’s holdings. Still, Dagan was not convinced. He was filled with guilt for even listening to the offer, but there was selfishness in him. He was almost forty years old and had nothing to show for it. A beautiful widow and her lands would be a small price to pay for disobeying his liege. Moreover, he could declare himself an independent lord with such wealth through marriage to Penden’s widow. These were desperate times. He had to take what he could.
“Even if I were to accept your offer, my lord, were I to release you, Lord Tevin would simply capture you again,” he said. “You could not stay here.”
“Rochester is my home,” Charles rumbled. “I am the Steward.”
“But du Reims is your liege.”
Charles tossed aside the half-eaten mutton. “Surely you know that what he has done to me is not right,” his voice was low and pleading. “The man has imprisoned me in my own dungeon so that he may steal my fortress. Do you not see this?”
“He imprisoned you because you were a danger. Your grief has made you mad.”
Charles threw down the bread and lifted his hands, like claws, into the weak light that streamed down into his cell. “There is no madness in my observations. Tell me that he and my son’s wife are not conspiring against me as we speak. Tell me that du Reims has not taken over every aspect of Rochester. He wanted to be rid of me to confiscate my holding and has used any excuse he could think of to do so. Can you not see that?”
Dagan inevitably thought of the past few days. Lord Tevin had indeed spent a good deal of time with Lady Cantia and her young son. In fact, his attention had gone beyond mere concern, some thought. There was talk. Though Dagan wanted nothing more than to refute Charles’ assertions as the ravings on an old man, he could not entirely. Some thought there was truth to what he said.
Without another word, Dagan stood up and quit the vault. Surprisingly, Charles let him go without vehement protests. He continued to stand in the weak light, listening to the footfalls until they faded completely and wondered if he would, indeed, ever find freedom from this place.
*
Faint shouts could be heard in the bailey beyond the lancet window. Tevin was enjoying the best sleep he’d had in a long time with Cantia wrapped in his arms. There was warmth and peace there, a wondrous world of satisfaction he’d never before experienced. It was enough to make him forget everything else. But the shouts eventually woke him and he sat up, his massive shoulders silhouetted against the soft moonlight. Cantia, jostled by the movement and by the fact that he had moved his big warm body, stirred.
“What is it?” she asked sleepily.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, putting his hand on her head to comfort her. “I am not sure.” He bolted up from the floor and collected his breeches. Cantia sat up, clutching the coverlet to her nude chest. She watched Tevin pull on his breeches in the darkness. Silently, he pulled on his boots and marched to the door. As she sat there in confused silence, Tevin suddenly turned around, marched back to her, bent over and kissed her gently on the lips. He kissed her again because she tasted so good. Retracing his steps, he quit the room and shut the door softly behind him.
Legs hugged up against her chest, Cantia had a smile on her face. His kiss had brought back memories of a most passionate encounter. Then her eyes moved to the bed she was unable to sleep on and inevitable thoughts of Brac came back to her. She put a timid hand on the mattress, feeling the linen beneath her fingers. Her tender thoughts of Tevin began to turn to thoughts of Brac. Lying back down on the warm bedclothes, she gazed into the darkness, torn between thoughts of two very different men.
Was she betraying Brac? The man had been in his grave a month and already she was fornicating with someone else. She wondered what Brac would say to her, or if she had died, if he would have found comfort so soon after her passing. Though she would not have wanted him to mourn the rest of his life over her, surely there was an appropriate length of mourning for one so well loved.
Perhaps what she was doing was wrong. Perhaps she was being too selfish and not giving Brac the appropriate respect. Tevin was new, exciting, kind and intelligent. But he was also her liege and had been very kind to her in her time of need. No matter that she told him the feelings she held for him were different from those she held for Brac. The fact remained that the situation was one of convenience. He was here, he was kind to her, and in her weak state, she had responded. She was beginning to think she was a very weak and foolish woman.
More thoughts filled her head, those of longing and grief and what the future might hold. A lone tear trickled down her temple, tears for Brac, for herself, for Tevin. She should have never allowed herself the warmth of Tevin’s comfort. But she had needed it. She realized that she did not regret her actions for one moment, and perhaps that was her greatest guilt. She had wanted Tevin to touch her, to explore her, and she in turn had wanted to explore him. She did not think of Brac at all when Tevin was around. All she could think of was him.
Cantia didn’t know how long she lay there, staring at the ceiling and thinking of Tevin. She didn’t even know what time it was, though the room was a soft shade of gray so she imagined it was somewhere close to dawn. Suddenly, the door to the chamber opened and closed and she sat up quickly in time to see Tevin rounding the side of the bed.
His gaze fell on her, the nearly-black eyes intense. He was naked from the waist up and for the first time, she got a very good look at just how enormous the man’s chest and shoulders were. A soft matting of dark hair covered his chest, hair that had been fuzzy and wonderful against her skin. Gazing up at him, all of the passion and excitement from the night before washed over her and she shuddered.
“Did you discover what the herald was about?” she asked.
He nodded. “I did.”
She waited expectantly for him to continue, but he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed and looked at her. His gaze lingered and she smiled.
“Why do you stare at me?”
He lifted a dark eyebrow, a smile on the corner of his mouth. “Because you are so beautiful,” he reached out, taking a strand of her hair between his big fingers. “Honestly, Cantia, it seems that all I can do is stare at you.”
Her smile turned modest. “What is happening in the bailey?”
His eyes took on a hard cast. “Trouble, I’m afraid.”
“What trouble?”
He sighed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “It would seem that my cousin has arrived early,” he said. “Geoff and his entourage are filling the bailey as we speak.”
Her eyes widened. “So soon?”
“I’m afraid so. Unfortunately, he’s made very good time upon the road and arrived sooner than expected.”
“But… what do we do? Do I still go to Darland?”
Tevin was silent a moment, his gaze lingering on her lovely face. “Not right now,” he said quietly. “You and Hunt will stay put. I will have Val brought up to your room. She can stay
with you until I can figure out what’s to be done.”
“You intend to hide us?”
“For the time being.”
“I do not mean to cause problems, but I am not sure how long we can successfully hide Hunt,” she said. “He is a very active little boy. He will want to run and play.”
“Then we must explain to him that, for now, he cannot,” Tevin replied. “I’ll think of something to tell him. Perhaps if we make it into a game, he will willingly go along.”
“What kind of game?”
He shook his head. “I do not know. But we shall have to think of something.”
She nodded, her mind racing to encompass all of the possibilities that might coerce her son in to playing a restrictive game. But her thoughts also inevitably turned to Val, and in doing so, she spoke before she could stop herself.
“If Val stays with me, then you and I.…” she trailed off, unable to finish.
He looked at her. She looked so entirely beautiful in the early morning light. He was secretly glad that Geoff had come early, secretly glad that he would not have to send her away. He could not bear the thought of sending her away, not after last night. With his big hands, he reached out to take her face in his hands.
“Then perhaps I had better steal a kiss when I can,” he said softly, kissing her gently on the lips. When he pulled back, their eyes met and they grinned at each other. “And more.”
She smiled broadly as his mouth came down on her again, gently at first, then more insistently. He left the bed and ended up lying beside her on the floor, holding her in his arms and kissing her as if to never let her go. She was still nude, warm and cozy in the bedclothes, and in little time he pulled off his breeches and boots and joined her in that cozy warmth. His mouth moved across her shoulder, her chest, familiarizing himself with the taste of her. She most definitely had a taste, something between honey and silk. It was delicious, like food to a starving man, and he suckled deeply of her flesh.
The second time around, he was more familiar with her and it only served to intoxicate him. Her nipples were succulent and tender, the flesh of her belly delicious. He could hear Cantia’s moans of pleasure and it spurred him onward until he reached the soft mound of curls between her legs. Even then, he did not stop. He continued to taste her, to savor every movement, every flavor. She had him by the hair as he held her tender core to his mouth, her legs over his enormous shoulders and his tongue doing wicked things. When he felt her stiffen in his hands, her body convulsing, he abruptly lifted himself and drove into her, feeling her tender walls throb around his manhood, drawing him deeper and begging for his release. But he could not answer so swiftly. He thrust deeply into her, so deeply that in little time her body was convulsing again and this time, he joined her.