Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01 (12 page)

After several tankards of ale, Gervase and Guy began
arguing in hushed tones.

Raising an eyebrow, Albin chuckled. “By the Saints,
what are you two dolts fighting about now?
 
I see no available women about.” Seeing Hylda glare his way, he mumbled
into his tankard.

“Tell us what the quarrel is about lads,” Fulke
called.

Scowling at Gervase, Guy reluctantly stood. “With your
permission my liege, I have composed a sonnet for your lady.”

“Pray, let us hear it,” Fulke replied with a grin.

Holding Reina’s gaze, Guy began to recite.

Mistress
Reina of Kenwick

A
maiden so fair

This
poor lonely knight

Willing
to lay his heart bare

No
equal for her beauty

Across
the land

On
bended knee I would

Seek
her hand

Without
so much as a glance

The
mistress left me to sulk

When
she up and married

My Lord
and Liege, Fulke

Dipping his head to Reina, he reseated himself beside
Gervase.

She caught Fulke’s eye.
“Please
extend my heartfelt gratitude, my lord.”

Pulling her tight against him, he called, “Well done,
Guy. Your lady thanks you.”

Gervase leaned into him. “I told you she would
approve. You must use your pretty words to woo the ladies, Guy.
 
Not all of us can get by on our fine looks.”

“That is true for now, Gervase,” he responded
wryly.
 
“Tell me. What will happen when
your fair looks fade, and you have no pretty words to fall back on?”

Gervase frowned, lost in thought.

Seeing him struggle for a rejoinder, Talan called,
“Have no fear, Gervase. I am sure your manly parts will fail you, long before
your looks do.”

Gervase brightened instantly. “As if that will ever
happen.”

Shaking his head, Talan rolled his eyes as the others
laughed.

It grew late when a circle of yawns started winding
around the fire. Standing, Fulke reached down to assist Reina.

She smiled at the men in parting, before linking her
arm through Fulke’s.
 

Reaching the cart, Fulke swept the blanket aside for
her to enter first.
 
She crawled under to
curl up on the cushioning blankets. Amazed Hylda had once again made things
cozy for them.

Fulke climbed under, stretching out beside her in the
tight space. Cuddling into his side, she reached up to find his lips.
 
At the light touch, she felt a ripple of
desire snake its way through her.
 
Seeking more, she slid her hand along his chest, rising slightly above
him.
 

She sensed his reticence, knowing concern for her gave
him pause.
 
A little discomfort would not
keep her from finding the joy of the night before.
 
Doubling her efforts, she wrapped a leg
around his thighs. Running her hands down the front of his tunic, she began to
caress the hard length of his shaft through his hose.

Moving her hands towards the lacings, she felt the
sudden intake of his breath. Finished untying his hose, she slipped her hand
inside his braies.
 

Stilling her hand, he rolled her beneath him to
capture her lips.

Hiking her gown up to her waist, he trailed hot kisses
down her neck and throat, caressing his way down her writhing body. Nearing her
woman’s center, her eyes widened in alarm.
 
Pulling frantically at his shoulders, she attempted to pull him back up
to her lips.

Fulke captured her hands, holding them to her sides as
he exposed her slick center to the chill night air. She gasped in surprise as
he latched on to caress the hidden nub of her core. Tendrils of pleasure wound
their way through her.
 
Closing her eyes,
she pressed herself against him, wanting more.
 

She was unaware when he released her hands, until she
found herself wrapping them in his hair to hold him close. Throwing her head
back, she gasped in pleasure.

When his fingers entered her, sliding in and out to
the rhythm of his questing tongue, her release screamed through her as a loud
gasp.

Struggling for breath, she guided him to her waiting
lips as he kissed his way back up to her. Tasting her essence on him, she met
his questing tongue with a rhythm of her own.

Reaching down between them, she hiked up his tunic.
Shoving his hose and braies down with her feet, she felt his groan of desire
against her mouth.

She splayed her knees to open herself for him.
 
Wrapping her fingers around the velvet steel
of his shaft, she began to slide her hand up and down. Feeling a drop of
moisture on its broad tip, she caressed it down the length of him as she felt
his breathing spike. Stroking faster, he began to move against her hand,
seeking more.

Guiding him to her silken sheath, she lifted her hips,
urging him to take her.

Sensing his resistance, she gripped his hips, pulling
him forward until with a vibrating groan, he seated himself to the hilt within
her.

Caressing the ridges of muscle on his abdomen, she ran
her hands around him, pleading in silence for him to take her.

With a fiery kiss, he gave in, driving his tongue into
her welcoming mouth as he thrust into her.

He muffled his release against her lips as he exploded
within her, sweeping them both to the heights of ecstasy.

* * * *

Reina woke in the early light to find Fulke staring
down at her, worry etching his smooth brow. “Did I hurt you last night, Reina?”

She smiled at his concern. Lightly touching his
shoulders where she had scored him with her nails.
“No my lord,
did I hurt you?”

“Aye,” he grinned.
 
“Yet, it was the best pain I have ever felt.” He bent to claim her lips
in a searing kiss.

Cupping his face, she gazed intently into his eyes.
“I want to see what you do to me, my lord.”
Her innocent
request nearly drove him wild as he helped her undress.

He briefly leaned away, struggling to remove his own
clothing in the cramped quarters.
 
Watching her eyes as he slid his hand along her bare thigh.

Lightly teasing her slick woman’s center, she bowed
her back, her lids heavy with desire. He worked his fingers on her, until he
could wait no longer. Running his hands slowly up the length of her waist, he
paused to tease her nipples.

Rising above her, he cupped her face between his
palms.

Staring into her eyes, he slowly entered her, losing
himself to the desire reflected in her eyes.

Kissing her until they were both breathless, he
withdrew to thrust into her warmth repeatedly.

About to climax, she closed her eyes, when he abruptly
pulled away from her.

She grabbed his hips to pull him back as he remained
unmoving, forcing her to look at him. “You are mine, Reina.” He kissed her possessively
until he felt her moan. “Say it, say that you are mine,” he said urgently.

With tears coursing down her cheeks, she answered him.
“Aye Fulke, I am yours. I love you.”

Once she mouthed the words he so desperately needed,
he claimed her lips.
 
Thrusting forward
into her.

Turning his face away from the love reflected in her
eyes, he drove into her until she reached her shattering release, followed
shortly thereafter by his own.

They lay content, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the
light outside their haven grew brighter.

Bending for a kiss, Fulke eased away when Reina
attempted to wrap her arms around him. Caressing her cheek, he said softly,
“The men are about my lady. I shall send Hylda to you.”

Straightening, he cracked the back of his head on the
underside of the wagon.
 
Rubbing the
smarting spot with his hand, he smiled at Reina’s concern. “It was well worth
it, my lady.”
 

Kissing her, he carefully backed out from under the
wagon.
 

After a quick visit to the stream, Fulke approached
the fire.
 
Talking amongst themselves,
the men looked up to greet him.
 

Staring at him with ill-concealed amused expressions,
they began to behave oddly.
  

With a lop-sided grin, Warin excused himself to summon
Hylda.
 

Osbert stood with a smirk.
 
“I shall break camp, my liege.”
 

Guy hid behind a mouthful of food.
 
Choking it down when Gervase inquired what
was so amusing.
 
Standing, he tossed the
core of his apple into the fire.
 
“I need
your assist with the horses, Gervase.”
 

Walking away, Guy leaned close to Gervase to murmur in
low-tones.
 

Stopping mid-step, Gervase looked back to study
Fulke.
 
Guy yanked on his tunic before he
could speak.
 
Striding away, Fulke could
see their shoulders shaking with ill-concealed mirth.

Catching Albin’s gloating expression, he exhaled
heavily. “Have it out, Albin.
 
What is it
you wish to say?”

Standing, Albin brushed the dirt from the back of his
tunic. “Remind me never to wager on you in a test of restraint, my liege.”
 
Laughing, he walked off.

Hanging his head, Fulke swore under his breath.
 
He would have to speak to them before their
teasing embarrassed Reina.
 

Glancing up, he met Talan’s calm regard.
 
“I take it I was overly vocal last night,
Talan?”

Talan cracked a smile. “We heard not a thing, my
liege.”

“Then why?”

“You are wearing your hose inside out.”
 
Standing, Talan turned away with a suspicious
cough.

Lifting the hem of his tunic, Fulke cursed.

* * * *

The day turned wet and cold as they slowly made their
way home to Castell Maen. Shivering, Reina snuggled against Fulke for warmth as
he tried to shield her from the worst of the rain.

An hour’s ride from the castle, he instructed Osbert
and Warin to ride ahead to announce their approach.
  

By the time the castle came into view, the ominous
clouds above spoke of worse things to come. The relentless drizzle changed into
an icy torrential downpour, drenching the weary riders.

Pulling Reina tightly against him, Fulke spurred his
horse to a faster pace, leaving the cart to follow slowly behind.

Riding through the deserted village, he could see
little through the unrelenting downpour.
 
Clattering across the drawbridge, serfs came running from the stables as
they rode into the inner courtyard.

Guy waited at the base of the steps to assist Reina.
Before her feet touched the ground, Fulke was sweeping her back into his
embrace.

He rushed with her through two immense ironbound doors
before entering a cavernous Great Hall.

Without pause, he rushed past his startled castellan.
“Introductions will have to wait for a later time, Rowan.”
 

Carrying Reina up one flight of steps, he hurried to
the end of a long passage lit by large iron candle stands, spaced at intervals
along its length.

Reaching the end door, he stepped into a large solar.

Several young boys were finishing their task of
filling the wooden tub hidden behind a carved wood paneled screen in the
corner.

Carrying Reina directly to the fire, he set her down
before its flickering warmth.

Emptying the last of the buckets, a small boy returned
Reina’s grateful smile on the way out.
 
Dipping his head towards Fulke, he closed the door behind him.

Before the door swung closed, Fulke had Reina’s cloak
unclasped.
 
He flung it aside as he
stripped off the rest of her sodden garments.
 

Sweeping her up in his arms, she smiled.
“I assure you, I can walk, my lord.”

“That would mean I could not carry you, my lady.”
 

Gently easing her into the tub’s welcoming warmth, he
stepped back to remove his cloak. “The water will warm you soon enough.”

Savoring the warmth of the water, Reina glanced up at
him.
“Will you not join me to warm yourself, my lord?”

Needing no further convincing, Fulke stripped off his
remaining wet garments.
 
Easing into the
tub behind her. He propped his legs on either side of her, drawing her back
against him.

Wrapping her arms around his knees, he heard her sigh
as he unwound the plait from her wet hair.

Grabbing a bar of his sandalwood soap, he lathered her
tresses as she leaned forward. Massaging her scalp, his hands slid down her
shoulders to cup her full breasts.
 

Raising her arms back to wrap around his neck, Reina
turned her face up for his kiss.
 

Lightly claiming her lips, Fulke immediately pulled
back, squinting as soap stung his eyes.
 
Splashing water to rinse them, he bent to kiss her nose. “You are in
need of a rinse, my lady.”

Reaching over the side of the tub, he grabbed a bucket
of warm water to rinse the shining tresses, before easing her back against him
once more.

He closed his eyes, resting his chin on the top of her
head as he enjoyed the peace of the moment.

By the time Fulke stepped from the tub to wrap a linen
towel around his waist, the water had cooled.

Holding a linen cloth up for Reina, he assisted her
over the lip of the tub.
 
Wrapping her in
its warmth, he drew her close.

She leaned into him, reaching up for his kiss.

He knew he would never be able to leave if he answered
her unspoken invitation. Caressing her lips with a finger, he kissed her brow.
“Later, my lady. A warm bed awaits us and I fully intend to explore you at my
leisure.”

“I shall look forward to it, my
lord.”

Finished dressing, he stood a moment watching
Reina.
 
Sitting before the fire with her
legs tucked beneath her, she combed her hair dry.
 
Dressed in one of his black silk dressing
gowns, he swallowed the lump of emotion the tranquil scene evoked.
  

Determined to keep his promise earlier than expected,
he was crossing to her when he heard a commotion in the passage. Recognizing
Hylda’s voice, he reluctantly changed course.

Seeing Reina look up in question, he rolled his eyes,
gesturing towards the door. “Hylda has arrived, my lady.”

Without pausing in her task, she smiled.

Flinging the door open, he found a wet, bedraggled
Hylda in the midst of giving a blistering set-down to his flustered castellan.

“What seems to be the trouble, Rowan?”

The reed-thin elder man stammered, “Your lordship,
this,” giving Hylda a withering glance, “woman, refuses to listen after I have
repeatedly informed her that you are not to be disturbed.”

Hylda poked a finger into Rowan’s lanky chest. “And I
have repeatedly told you, that I will see my lady settled you thick-headed
dolt.”

Seeing Rowan puff up in outrage, Fulke stepped into
the hall as Hylda slipped inside behind him. “All is well, Rowan.
 
Return to the hall with me, whilst Hylda
tends to her ladyship.”

Rowan scowled at Hylda in the doorway, only to bluster
at the smug smile she cast his way, before slamming the door in his face.
 

Taken aback, he stammered, “Your lordship, that
woman’s impertinence should be addressed at once.”

Fulke clapped him on the shoulder. “It has been.” He
grinned. “I released her from servitude.”

* * * *

Dining on sliced apples and pears, Reina waited for
Fulke’s return. Peering around the chamber, she was determined to learn
everything she could about her new husband. After the starkness of Kenwick
Keep, she reveled in the plush comforts of Castell Maen.

The lord’s chamber was large, boasting a hearth that
took up most of one wall. Placed before it were two oak-hewn chairs, cushioned
in garnet wool to match the bench in the window-niche.

Deep blue damask which matched the coverlet, hung from
a suspended frame, forming a curtained canopy around the bed.
 

Three bench-sized coffers lined the wall where the
screen concealed the wooden tub.

Flemish tapestries covered the drafts that seeped
between the thick stone of the castle walls. Standing before them, Reina
marveled at the intricacy of the stitching. Reflecting mostly scenes of battle,
she recognized a few representing King William. The largest of the four
symbolized the conqueror’s victory over King Harold on Senlac Hill during the
Battle of Hastings.

Taking in every detail of the chamber, she decided the
best part were the carpets covering the rough wood-planked flooring. Forced to
walk on rush-strewn floors for so long, she was tempted to take her slippers
off and go barefoot.

Weary from the journey, she climbed into the
comfortable window-niche. Snuggling beneath the blanket Hylda had stitched for
her, she closed her eyes to rest a bit.

* * * *

Fulke half-listened as Rowan rattled on, waiting for
him to arrive at the end of his long, detailed account. The tenants were
generally content except for a few minor disputes.

With his extended absence, Fulke was overdue to hold
manor court to resolve the complaints of his people.

Locking his hands behind his head, he absently stared
at the ceiling as Rowan slowly went over suitable times.

His patience came to an end when Rowan began to list
the livestock birthed in his absence. Droning on, he faltered when Fulke stood
to interrupt him. “As always, you have done a commendable job, Rowan.”

He left the flustered man babbling as he reviewed his
recording plank.

Crossing through the hall, Fulke headed for the steps
with a look that dared anyone to stop him. Serfs scurried from his path, afraid
to be on the receiving end of one of his blistering tongue-lashings.

His foot posed above the first step, he was not
surprised to hear Hylda’s low voice behind him. “Will you be supping in the
hall this eve, your lordship?”

Withholding a snarl, he faced her. It was impossible
to get mad at the irritating woman when she took such exceptional care of them.
“Send up a tray Hylda, your lady looked weary.”

Before she could say anything else, he whirled around
to dash up the steps.

Expecting the tantalizing vision of Reina in his bed
waiting for him, he swung the door open.
 
With a smile of anticipation on his face, he looked towards the bed, and
frowned.
  
It was empty.
 
Glancing around the room, he spied Reina
curled up by the window, fast asleep.

Disappointed, he pulled back the coverlet on the bed.
Crossing to his sleeping wife, he gently cradled her in his arms.