BindingPassion (6 page)

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When she’d left, Philip lay back on the bed. His mind
replayed the scene with Mary over and over, keeping him from sleep. His cock
grew harder and throbbed as he remembered. She would be his e’er long. Though
she knew it not, hers was a sensual and responsive nature. Soon enough she’d be
begging to have his shaft inside her. She’d be hot and tight and slick.

The thought made his cock harden even further until it ached
unbearably. He reach down and wrapped his hand around it. With thoughts of
Mary’s shapely lips, lovely breasts, and rounded derriere in mind, he pumped
himself. Liquid precursor dripped from the end, lubricating the slide of his
fingers. He gasped as the pleasure and tension grew. One of these days she’d
put her lips and tongue on his cock, touch its head, run it down the length…

The tension tightened to that glorious point of unbearable
heat, poised at the brink of a precipice. He imagined her holding his balls, touching
them with her tongue, and he pitched over the brink, spurting his seed over his
hand and belly. He soaked in the pleasure of it and at last fell asleep with
thoughts of Mary a sweet guide.

The day got off to a somewhat sluggish beginning the next
morning. Mary had to drag an unwilling body out of bed, so she sympathized with
the workers who had to rise even earlier, although she was grateful to find
enough of the kitchen staff had showed up to provide food.

She fortified herself with a cup of warmed, spiced cider and
a slice of bread smeared with the head cook’s special multi-fruit preserves
before she headed toward the kitchen to check on how badly the previous day’s
festivities had depleted supplies.

Sounds echoed around the enclosed hall between the main part
of the manor and the kitchens. Before she entered the cavernous main cooking
area, she knew there were problems. She could hear the shouts of the head cook
and several other voices arguing from a good distance away. The cacophony of
raised voices grew louder as she got closer, with more voices entering the
fray.

Mary stopped at the entrance, surveying the scene in the
main room of the kitchen for a moment.

Six people stood in the middle of the space, the head cook,
the head baker, three of the kitchen girls and a younger boy. All except the
boy were talking at once, each one arguing their own point of view with fierce
intensity. Even after listening for a couple of minutes, Mary couldn’t get the
entire gist of the argument, though she did pick up that each of the girls
tried to pass off guilt for some lapse onto the others or onto persons not
present.

The head cook looked up and noticed her presence. The others
followed her line of sight, and all of them fell silent when they saw her.

“What is the problem here?” Mary asked.

All of them started talking at once. Mary held up a hand to
quiet them.

She looked at the head cook and said, “Eadwynne, if you
would start?”

The woman, older, gray-haired, tall and thin, said, “I told
Arice and Jehane to be sure the stew for this evening’s dinner was begun first
thing this morning so the meat would be tender. But when I arrived, they hadn’t
started it.”

“We had no meat,” Arice, a girl of no more than fourteen or
fifteen answered. “Joseph should have brought us a haunch this morning, but he
didn’t.”

“You could have started preparing the vegetables instead of
standing around complaining about the meat,” Eadwynne scolded.

“Did anyone try to find Joseph to ask about the meat?” Mary
asked.

Arice and Jehane stared at each other. “I told her to go,”
Jehane said. “I had to get the fire stoked and get the potatoes.”

“I was supposed to do that,” Arice complained. “You just
said you’d do it instead, so you wouldn’t have to go outside in the cold to
find him.”

“Neither one of you wanted to go out,” Mary said, cutting
across their revived argument. “We’ll deal with that later. Has anyone seen
Joseph?”

“Nay, my lady,” each said in turn.

“I’ll go find him,” she said. “In the meantime, you’ll do as
Eadwynne directs.”

“Aye,” they agreed.

Mary left the kitchen and headed for the barn. Some of the
young men who shared quarters in the men’s barracks should be there.

Initially no one admitted to knowing where the missing
Joseph could be found. One of the stable boys said he’d seen him get up and go
out that morning and another confirmed he wasn’t in his bed. She sent a couple
to search the men’s’ quarters.

While she waited for their return, she talked to the stable
hands about the horses. A couple of the younger boys were more than happy to
share their affection for their charges and a great deal of information about
them. Though the youngsters weren’t allowed to handle the battle-trained horses
used by Sir Philip and his company, the animals were much admired. They took her
to look at them, showing them off with a peculiar, possessive pride.

Her messengers returned with the word that no one had found
Joseph. She dismissed them back to their work, but Ross, her partner in some of
her efforts to harass Sir Philip, stopped her outside.

“My lady,” he said, “I believe I know where ye’ll find
Joseph. He likes to nap in a corner of the cheese-house.”

She thanked him and set out for the cheese-house. It was
just a large room off the dairy, but had its own entrance. The area was unoccupied
and quiet, pungent with the aroma of ripening cheeses.

Joseph was curled up behind a shelf stacked with bowls and
other implements. She shook his shoulder until he woke. For a moment he just
stared, then the reality of his circumstances penetrated and he stood quickly,
a flash of panic showing in his eyes.

“My lady,” he said. “I must have fallen and hit my head.” He
swiped a hand over his head as though searching for lumps or bruises. “What
time is it?”

“Well past the time you were supposed to bring a haunch to
the kitchen for tonight’s dinner.”

“Oh, my lord,” he moaned. “I’m so sorry, my lady. I’ll bring
it right now.”

“Do so,” she suggested, “Right now.”

The boy nodded and raced to get the meat.

Mary went back to the kitchen to tell Eadwynne the meat was
coming and to ask about the boy bringing it. The head cook was vehement on the
subject.

“He’s a lazy, good-for-naught. He does as little work as he
can manage and sleeps most of the day away.”

By the time Joseph arrived with the haunch of meat, Mary had
fetched the butler and steward. She beckoned the boy aside once he’d dropped
his burden.

“I’ve heard this morning was not the first time you’ve
failed in your responsibilities,” she told him. “As a result, you’ll be
confined in a cell for a day with naught but bread and water. I hope it will
give you time to meditate on your failings and resolve to execute your duties
more faithfully in the future.”

Joseph’s face went tight with rebellion and anger. She
beckoned the steward and the butler toward her to take charge of the boy.

“If you don’t mend your ways, the next time I hear of your
sleeping while you should be working, you’ll be whipped.”

His eyes widened and skin blanched at that. Mary hoped it
meant she’d scared him into taking his duties more seriously.

The cook had already chided the two kitchen maids, and Mary
was content to leave it at that.

She went back to the manor proper and to the office. Philip
was there, consulting with Sir Thomas and Sir Peter over which of the walls
should be repaired first. The three of them were bent over a large sheet of
parchment, showing a rough layout of the manor and lands around.

“The south face is in the worst condition,” Sir Thomas
argued, pointing with a large finger at a stretch of the outer wall. “I’ve near
to lost my balance on the crumbling stone twice when I’ve been up there. The
parapet’s in no better condition. Should I have fallen against it, no doubt I’d
have gone right through and off the side.”

“Aye,” Sir Peter agreed, “but the odds are any attack is
more likely to come from the east. ‘Tis more urgent we fortify that side.”

Philip studied the areas they indicated for a minute, then
said, “In this I have to agree with Peter. The south face is in worse
condition, but the risk of attack from that side is small since any company
would have to come at it from over the hills. The east wall must be repaired
first.”

He looked up and saw Mary standing in the doorway. All three
straightened up when they noticed her. “Will you see to getting it started?”
Philip asked the men. “Lady Mary, are there some men available to get work
underway? And a stonecutter nearby?”

“The harvest is nearly done,” she answered. “There will be
men available for the job. And some can be hired from town to work for their
meals and ale. Walter Stonecutter hasn’t had any work in some time, and he’s
too old to resume now, but he has still his wits about him and could teach a
couple of the younger men the art. There is a place on the east wall, near the
north tower that urgently needs repair as well.”

Philip nodded and turned to Sir Thomas. “Will you go see the
stonecutter and make the arrangements?”

Mary gave Sir Thomas directions to the stonecutter’s cottage
and suggested names of young men who might be trained in the craft. She added
Joseph’s name to the list. The boy certainly wasn’t happy at what he was
currently doing. Perhaps a different job might better suit him.

Philip finished his discussion with Sir Peter about the same
time she concluded her suggestions to Sir Thomas. The two men departed then,
leaving her alone with Sir Philip.

When she met his very blue eyes, she couldn’t help but
remember the previous evening, the intimate way he’d touched her and how she’d
responded. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks.

He saw it and gave her a wickedly knowing smile, but he only
asked, “Slept you well, my lady?”

“Aye, my lord,” she answered. “Though I feared it might not
be so, with so many new sensations crowded into my mind. And did you so?”

“With the images of such beauty fresh in my mind, how could
I do aught but rest blissfully,” he answered.

“You’re a wicked charmer, Sir Philip.”

“How can it be wicked when I speak only the truth?”

“You turn the truth so it reflects only the light you wish
it to.”

“But is that not true of everything we say? All our words
come through the sieve of whatever schemes our mind designs.”

“Aye,” she admitted, “But many have minds that can do naught
more than sift for whatever truth is most obvious.”

“But, you, Lady Mary, have a mind clever enough to seek the
meanings below the meanings and sort truth from falsehood in any pretty guise.”

“Whereas, you, Sir Philip, can take truth and wring it into
forms so twisted and devious, it serves whatever purpose you desire.”

“I’m a knight, a warrior, trained to use whatever weapons
are at hand.”

“Then in truth, my lord, you’ll never be disarmed.”

“I know not whether you intend to flatter, but I’ll take it
in that spirit.” He paused, studying her face, and said, “But come, Lady Mary,
you looked troubled when you entered. Is something amiss?”

“Nothing of great importance. A minor annoyance in the job
of running the household.” She told him about Joseph and his neglect of his
duty.

He drew a deep breath and his expression grew serious. When
she finished, he paused for a minute, then said, “Mary, please keep in mind
that I’m now the lord here. If there are issues of discipline and trouble with
the staff, it should be brought to me. The welfare of everyone who lives here,
works here, and depends on this manor, is my responsibility. Except in very
minor matters, decisions about discipline should be made by me.”

He looked at her and read her expression. “The king has
entrusted this estate to me. You’ve entrusted your body to me. Have I not told
you I mean to settle here? These people are
mine
. Their welfare is now
my primary concern. Matters of discipline are in my authority. I must insist
that in the future you bring such issues to me for
my
decision.”

His insistence troubled her, though she couldn’t just then
discern the reason for it. “What would you have done differently, my lord?” she
asked.

“In truth, I know not,” he admitted. “But I must learn how
to handle those situations. And all who dwell here must recognize that I am
lord. They know you as their lady, you having been here from birth and the
daughter of their former lord. I’m a newcomer and they know naught of me. They
must acknowledge me and come to trust me. If you would demonstrate to all that
you recognize me as lord here, it would lead the way for them to do likewise.”

“Aye, I see,” Mary admitted. Her example would help win the
trust of her people. But did she trust him enough to put their care so
completely in his hands? Or was her hesitation based on something else
entirely. Honesty compelled her to admit, to herself alone, that she enjoyed
the power and authority she’d wielded when no lord her people could trust ruled
the manor. A small, selfish part of her didn’t wish to share the regard they
had for her or the mastery of all things that concerned the running of the place.

“I understand your feelings in this, my lord,” she said.
“And I’ll try to honor your request and support your lordship here to the best
of my ability.”

She wondered if he heard some reluctance in her
capitulation. His austere expression softened only slightly when he said, “I
thank you, my lady. And I’ll depend on your actions suiting your words.”

“And should I forget?”

“Then I’ll have to remind you.” His expression abruptly
darkened again. “I hope I’ll not have to make any further public displays of
discipline, but I’ll brook no challenges to my authority as lord here. Even
from you, my lady. I recognize the authority you have as a birthright here, but
mine is the greater claim and I cannot allow yours to undermine it.” He drew a
deep breath and expelled it slowly. “I have no wish to argue with you.”

“Nor I with you, my lord,” she agreed. But an odd, sneaky
part of her did want to argue, even felt a strange curl of mixed fear and
excitement tightening her loins at the thought of challenging him.

“Enough of that for now,” he said. “I trust my will is
clear. There’s another thing I’d ask you about.” He went to a cabinet in one
corner of the room and extracted a rough wooden box with a hinged cover, which
he brought to his work table. “This morning as I lay in bed trying to force
myself to abandon the warmth and comfort, I cast my gaze around the room and
noted a few stones that appeared out of line beside the fireplace. When I
investigated, I found the stones could be removed and a goodly sized
compartment lay behind them. This was inside. Know you anything about these?”

He lifted the cover. Mary gasped at the contents. “Aye, my
lord,” she said. “These were my mother’s.” She reached out to touch the deep
red gem hung from a chain of fine silver links, one of several pieces in the
box. “I thought these long gone to feed Sir Benwyck’s appetites.”