Page 105

Mercenaries and Maidens: A Medieval Romance bundle Page 105

by Kathryn Le Veque


“I was thinking about taking a trip into Shrewsbury to shop,” he gently lied.

“Shop? For what?”

“A wedding ring.”

She smiled with veiled excitement. “For me? I’ve never had one, you know.”

“I know,” he said. “I fancy buying you an obscenely large gold and garnet ring. What do you think?”

She thought a moment. “I rather like diamonds. They shine so prettily in the sun.”

“Fine. An obscenely large diamond, then.”

“What about you? Will you wear a wedding ring?”

His brow furrowed. “Men do not wear wedding rings.” She simply smiled, as if to graciously accept his refusal, and he abruptly changed his mind. “But if you want me to wear one, I will. I’ve never had one either.”

Her expression brightened. “Gold, I should think. I know pewter or silver is more popular, but I like the way gold shines.”

“Gold it shall be. But no diamonds for me. I must draw the line somewhere. Besides, the church frowns on anything garish.”

She giggled in agreement. Then she sobered, absently stroking the back of his neck. “Thank you, Kaspian.”

He found himself watching the way her lips moved when she talked. “For what?”

“For marrying me.”

His response to her, as it had been so often as of late, was to kiss her. It wasn’t long before Lady Hawys’ gown was a pile on the floor, with Kaspian’s clothes right beside it. His first instinct was to suckle her breasts, as usual, but she stopped him. He looked at her questioningly.

“I… I am thinking to let them dry up,” she said, almost apologetically. “You are well enough now that there is really no reason to keep my milk flowing. It can be most painful sometimes.”

He ran a finger down her cheek. “I will be gone for several days, maybe weeks. That will be time enough for you to dry up. But for now… as selfish as it sounds, I find it most comforting.”

Her reply was to push his mouth down on her nipple, and he drank deeply, sucking her so hard that the pleasure-pain of it made it almost too difficult to bear. Kaspian’s hands were on her shoulder blades, holding her fast to him, feeling more wild passion than he had ever known possible. When she was dry on both breasts, his mouth trailed down her torso, tasting her natural sweetness, suckling her hips, her thighs, her feet.

When he finally covered her small body with his large one, he did it with such gentleness that there was no weight involved at all, only an intimate closeness that covered her from head to toe. She welcomed him deep inside her, feeling her healed body stretch to accommodate him, savoring the sensation of his hardness. He thrust slowly but firmly at first, gaining in speed and power until Madelayne stopped him. Pushing him over onto his back, she slid atop him, riding him until an explosion of stars filled her eyes and delicious tremors overtook her body. Buried deep within her, Kaspian took his release with the greatest of pleasure.

He didn’t know how long they lay in each other’s arms, touching, feeling, exploring and caressing. All he knew was that he never wanted to leave her. The afternoon was cool and dreamy, perfect for languishing away the hours in the wonderful world of discovery. When a knock finally came at the door, however, he knew their stolen hours were over.

It was Reece. Since Ewan’s death, the young man had been lost. But with Thomas emotionally disabled and Nicholas on his death bed, Kaspian put the junior knight in charge of the preparation and restoration of Lavister’s remaining army and the activity seemed to help him a great deal. The death of his brother and the new responsibilities had matured him.

Kaspian answered the door fully clothed. Madelayne sat in the chair where her embroidery was laid, looking fully clothed but, in fact, the stays down the back of her dress remained undone from the hasty dressing. She smiled at Reece, who looked somewhat uncomfortable to have disturbed his liege.

“My lord,” he said. “Everything is prepared as ordered. We can be at Shrewsbury in a few hours.”

Kaspian nodded shortly. “I shall join you in a moment.”

Reece quit the room with a stiff bow in Madelayne’s direction. When he was gone, she laughed softly. “I think he is angry at you for marrying me. He can no longer flirt with me without incurring your wrath.”

Kaspian simply lifted an eyebrow in agreement as he sat down on the bed to pull on his heavy leather boots. His mail was down in the armory, having been cared for by the tradesmen of Kirk until it was almost new-looking. Madelayne went to stand beside him, waiting until he was done with his boots before motioning to the stays on her back. Before fastening each successive stay, he kissed the flesh on her back that it would cover until there were no more stays left. Then he playfully bit her neck and she yelped in delight.

“Now, I must go down to join Reece and don my armor,” he said. “I shall see you before I depart, have no fear.”

She had hold of his hand, firmly. “What of Thomas?” she asked. “Will he be going with you?”

Kaspian shook his head, sadly. “He will not,” he said. “Thomas has not been sober since Mavia’s death. I will have to depend on Reece, who is, so far, doing an excellent job.”

Madelayne was saddened about Thomas’ state, too. He was a great knight, now sucked into the quagmire of grief and alcohol in the turmoil of Mavia and Nicholas. “I will watch over him while you are away,” she said. “For now, however, I want to go with you to the armory.”

“That is no place for you.”

“Neither was the vault of Lavister, but I was there.”

He pursed his lips irritably. “Cheeky wench.”

She grinned. He didn’t want her around the dirt and earthiness of the soldiers in the armory, but he couldn’t resist a chance to squeeze in a last few stolen moments with her. Her hand in the crook of his elbow, Madelayne escorted her husband down to Kirk’s armory to spend a final few moments with the man before he departed.

The moments were precious and swift and, before she realized it, he was beyond Kirk’s big gates, heading off to the south and Shrewsbury.

*

Kaspian had only been gone a matter of hours and already Madelayne felt as if he’d been gone for years. The evening meal was finished for the most part, the only meal she had actually eaten in the great hall since her arrival to Kirk. Lady Hawys had been gracious and had seemingly forgotten about the turmoil the disruptive people from Lavister had caused the first few days of their arrival. In fact, Madelayne was enjoying tremendous respect and status as the wife of Kaspian St. Hèver. She’d never realized until now how highly the vassals of Edward thought of him until Lady Hawys began treating her as an equal. It was an elevation in social ranking she had never imagined.

But Lady Hawys’ socialization did not extend beyond the cursory. With Mavia gone, Madelayne’s closest companion was now Dolwyd. The old man looked older than he had only weeks earlier, his gray hair grayer and his walk more stooped. Mavia’s death had upset him, as had Ewan’s, and the situation between Thomas and Nicholas was still an explosion waiting to happen. Thomas had not gone with Kaspian, reluctantly, and Nicholas still lay in the knight’s quarters, ill with a poison that refused to leave him. As Dolwyd had said, the inhabitants of Lavister Crag had all gone stark raving mad and life wasn’t what it should be.

But he was a comfort to Madelayne nonetheless. He had spent most of his time with Nicholas, coaxing the knight from the brink of death, but tonight he had taken the time to sit with Madelayne at sup because Kaspian had asked him to. He didn’t want his wife to be alone in this strange place. Kaspian, in fact, had gone to visit Nicholas directly before he departed Kirk and had been greeted with a man gray and weak. In truth, he only wanted to convince himself that Nicholas was still too ill to wreak havoc with Madelayne while he was away. Satisfied of the man’s perilous condition, he went along his way.

Madelayne was enjoying the last of her mead, a drink that Kaspian and even Cairn had found most foul. They preferred the hard knocks of t
heir ale and wine to the soft, honeyed drink more suited to women. The hall of Kirk had quieted somewhat, some people finding a place in the corner to sleep off too much wine and the dogs going about looking for scraps. Lord and Lady de Kirk had long since retired, leaving few people still enjoying the evening and conversation. But Madelayne wasn’t conversing with anyone other than Dolwyd; she didn’t particularly want to return to the chamber she shared with Kaspian and face it alone. She missed him so badly that it hurt.

“Greetings, Lady St. Hèver.”

A voice from behind startled her. Looking up, she found herself gazing into healthy-looking blue eyes. Nicholas smiled back, looking nothing like the man she had been led to believe was dying. Shocked, Madelayne’s jaw dropped.

“Nicholas!” she exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing out of bed?”

He presumptuously took the seat next to her, demanding a trencher from the nearest serving wench. “I’m feeling much better, actually,” he said, his eyes drifting over her. “You, however, look marvelous. Marriage agrees with you.”

Dolwyd was up, his old body moving faster than it should have. “De Dalyn, you are a madman! Your wound is festering with poison!”

Nicholas waved the old man off. “It is doing no such thing. I feel much better, truly.”

Dolwyd eyed him with a great deal of suspicion. He knew immediately what he was up to. “I would wager to guess that this feeling of abundant health came over you the moment St. Hèver left the gates.”

Nicholas shrugged carelessly. “I wouldn’t know when, exactly, he left in order to correctly answer your assessment.”

“You pretended to be ill when he came to see you just before he left!”

“I have pretended nothing.”

“You wanted him to leave his wife here without protection, vulnerable to your advances!”

“You are imagining things, Dolwyd.”

The old man wasn’t fooled for a moment. “Whether or not I am, I’ll tell you what Kaspian told you; if you value your life, you’ll leave Lady Madelayne alone.”

Nicholas was quite innocent. “Dolwyd, your mind is running away with you. Have some more wine and calm yourself.”

The physic batted at the pitcher in Nicholas’ outstretched hand. “I’ll do no such thing!” He reached down and practically yanked Madelayne to her feet. “My lady, we will retreat to your chamber immediately.”

Nicholas watched the pair over the rim of his goblet. “By the Devil’s Beard, Dolwyd, I won’t bite. Sit and finish your drink, both of you.”

Dolwyd pulled Madelayne away, so she was lodged behind him. “Take your meal and return to bed, de Dalyn. You are not a well man.”

“I’m fine.”

“Then you should be on the road with St. Hèver and not lollygagging around here.”

Nicholas merely cocked an eyebrow at him, watching the old man practically yank Madelayne from the hall. Things hadn’t gone exactly as he had planned, but there was plenty of time now that Kaspian was away on a quest to regain his fortress. The thought occurred to him that Dolwyd might send word to Kaspian of Nicholas’ miraculous recovery, but he doubted the old man had the courage to do it. Still, something told him to be alert.

His instincts were correct; Nicholas captured the messenger the moment the man left the gates and tied him, exposed to the elements, to a tree on the outskirts of the castle. To be certain, it was necessary, as he had a plan to finally gain his wishes once and for all, a plan that involved separating Lady St. Hèver from her new husband.

Kaspian St Hèver stood in the way of all Nicholas wanted and he was tired of waiting. He had to rid himself of the man. Being very clever, and ambitiously evil, Nicholas knew what he had to do. He knew what would make the lady turn against her husband.

And Kaspian would not be here to defend himself.

Or her.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The next day

“I won’t take you, I say!” Dolwyd shouted. “You are mad! Kaspian will have my head if I allow you to do this… this folly!”

Madelayne was patient in the face of his tantrum. “It is not a folly,” she said patiently. “I merely wish to go into town and purchase a wedding band for him as a surprise. We talked about it right before he left. He said he would wear one and I intend to purchase one for him. You may escort me into town or you may stay here. It makes no difference to me.”

Dolwyd was about to have a stroke. His face was red and his veins bulged. “You’ll not go alone!” he croaked. “De Kirk will send an army with you if you go into town!”

“So be it.”

“And how do you intend to pay for these gains? You have no money!”

“I will promise that my husband will send them the money. Kaspian St. Hèver’s name should be good enough.”

Madelayne watched Dolwyd grumble and stomp. Clad in an emerald brocade gown that swished along the floor as she walked, she turned to the too-big slippers courtesy of her hostess. “And I must have some gowns made as well, considering we do not know how long we will be at Kirk and I have imposed on my hostess far too much already.”

“Not to mention she is taller and fatter than you are.”

“Dolwyd, how cruel.”

The physic knew there was no talking her out of her trip. It was a bright spring morning, and somewhat warm, which was rare in these parts, and Madelayne had awoken full of vinegar and fire. Perhaps it was the fact that her husband was gone and her anxiety was shadowing her manner, but Dolwyd thought perhaps she was unsteady from the knowledge that de Dalyn was up and about. Only last night they had seen him, but already, the tension was palpable. It seemed that Madelayne was determined to put distance between herself and the castle where Nicholas stalked.

Not that he could blame her. Sighing, the old man threw up his hands in resignation. “I’ll tell de Kirk, then. We’ll have an escort for you within the hour if you are determined to do this foolish thing.”

Madelayne smiled prettily for him, but he would have no part of it. He waved his hands at her as he headed for the door.

“Do not use your charms on me, Lady St. Hèver,” he scolded. “Your husband may succumb like a weakling to you, but I do not.”

She continued to smile at him, mocking him. “Thank you, Dolwyd, ever so much.”

He growled at her as he left the chamber. In precisely an hour, Madelayne was in the bailey, greeted by a twenty-man escort bearing the colors of Edward. All were Lavister men who had assumed their duty to their liege’s new wife. Lord de Kirk didn’t say much to her even though he was in the ward; she was coming to think that the man thought she and the people from Lavister were a load of trouble. He was right. She was almost embarrassed to look him in the eye for all of the nuisance they had caused. Mounting a small, gray palfrey, she took her place amongst the escort and followed them from the great ward.

The landscape outside of the castle walls was starting to come to life with various shades of green. The rain that had pounded the area for the past several weeks had ended and now the land was beginning to show signs of growth. The day was bright and the sun gave off a slight amount of warmth, making travel pleasant.

Dolwyd plodded along behind her on his old horse, a beast that she was sure was as old as Dolwyd himself. She could feel his angry stare on her back but she ignored him soundly; the old man hated any inconvenience, any stir from the routine of the ordinary, and she would not indulge his displeasure. Truth be told, she was eager to pass the time in any way possible until Kaspian’s return. And Nicholas’ presence at Kirk was as good a reason as any for her to put distance between her and the castle.

The town of Kirk was rather large, butting up against the castle and filled with streets and structures. But it was a dirty town with dirty streets, too many people wandering about their business. As the sun warmed the air, the gutters stank and homeless dogs huddled under wagons and in doorways.

Oddly enough, the bright day only seemed to emphasize the drearine
ss of the town. As the troop from the castle entered the berg, the peasants looked at them as if they were straight from the bowels of hell. It was like a town full of ignorants and Madelayne was the slightest bit uncomfortable. She could hear Dolwyd behind her, cursing her stubbornness.

Deeper into town was a wider street with several merchant shops. These people seemed friendlier and Madelayne immediately found a shop with bolts of fabric from France and beyond. With pleasure, she examined the satins and brocades, and the yards of damask that were both heavy and fragile at the same time. The man who ran the shop had a wife who sewed and, after much haggling, Madelayne commissioned the woman to make her four gowns, promising her a more than fair price should she deliver the gowns within the next couple of days.

Proceeding to the rear of the shop, the woman and her daughter-in-law took Madelayne’s measurements and made a great fuss over her beautiful figure. But it was painful for her when they measure her bust line, engorged and bound in an attempt to dry up her milk. Standing there with her arms raised as they worked was a surreal experience; Madelayne thought that her dead child and life with Cairn seemed like it had happened a lifetime ago. This new life she was experiencing was something overwhelming and fantastic, but something wonderful and rich with a man she loved as opposed to a comfortable life with a man she was simply fond of. Love, she discovered, made all of the difference in the world.

Perhaps the queen of the lost stars, and lost souls, wasn’t so lost anymore.

Perhaps she had finally found her way, after all.

When the measurements were finished and the deal made, Madelayne thanked the merchant and moved on. There were several farmers selling early spring produce, a baker with great loaves of brown currant bread, and a woman selling dried flowers. Cruising the entire street with her escort in tow, she was disappointed to realize there was no jeweler, only a metalworker. Upon discussions with the man, however, she discovered that he could work steel into a thick, lovely band for Kaspian and add semi-precious stones to it. But Madelayne didn’t think stones suited him at all, so she asked the man to work two rings, identical, one for her and one for him. She wanted something for her husband, even if it was a steel ring, to announce to the world their bond of marriage. She began to think it was rather like branding him.