Lord of the Blade (25 page)

"Godspeed," replied Ruford slipping out the
door.

Devon patiently waited for Corbett to
realize she was still standing where Ruford had left her. She had
begun to think she blended into the wall, for he acted as if she
didn't even exist. Finally, she cleared her throat, causing Corbett
to look up from his sword which he polished with vigor.

"Is there something you desire?" He turned
his attention back to his sword, not waiting for her answer.

Desire!
Just that word alone
triggered off her emotions until she could hold them back no
longer. She wondered if he had used the word purposely just to
spite her.

“Do not speak to me of desire,” she
spat.

"Is something troubling you?" he asked
without looking up. "You seem a bit disturbed tonight. Mayhap you
burned a meal in the monastery or slipped on a wet floor?"

If she could have found an object within
reach, she would have definitely flung it at him.

"Is your heart so impenetrable that you find
this situation nothing more than a bad jest?"

He stopped polishing the sword for a second
and she thought he was going to look up at her, but he didn't.

“I know not of what you speak.” His voice
sounded weary and tired.

“Why didn’t you come for me?” she asked,
trying to keep the tremble from her voice. “Did our coupling mean
so little to you that you had no desire to see me again?”

"I have had a lot on my mind since I've been
back."

She took that as an apology, for she knew he
would never be able to say the words
, I am
sorry.
She
went to him and gingerly reached out a trembling hand, running her
fingers through his hair and trailing her hand down his back. His
eyes closed tight and he held his breath. Then, he released it
slowly and faced her.

“I won’t make you leave, Devon, but neither
will I take you to my bed when I have to bring you to trial in two
day’s time.”

Her throat tightened and her stomach
clenched. The walls he’d rebuilt between them were higher than
before.

“Malcomn says you care naught for any woman,
but rather use seduction to get what you want. Is this true?”

The hurt in his eyes told her it wasn’t so.
But he did naught to deny it.

“I will choose a bride on the morrow. I will
have a titled woman to bear my heir.”

She held on to the spindle of the bed for
support, wanting to shout to the world that she was titled, but
couldn’t. Not without knowing his true feelings for her first.

“And what about love, my lord? Does that not
hold a place higher in your heart than status?”

He banged down his sword on the table and
stood beside her, his hand just above hers on the bedpost. His face
came close to hers when he spoke and the tension between them
increased.

“What is all this talk of love? I told you
warriors have no need for such a thing.”

“I think they do,” she challenged him. “I
think you need to be held and comforted more than anyone I
know.”

He pushed away from the bed, cursing under
his breath, and went to stand by the fire.

“What do you know of love?” He picked up the
poker and stabbed at the logs. “You are an infatuated young servant
girl with stars in her eyes, clinging to her lord who saved her
from the monastery and took her virginity finally making her a
woman.”

“How dare you!” she answered in contempt.
Hands in fists, teeth clenched, she joined him at the fire. “You
know naught about me and yet you condemn me because you are too
afraid to look into your own heart to find your true emotions.”

He threw down the poker and headed for the
door. “I’ve had enough of this nonsense.”

Devon couldn’t let him walk out on her. She
had to tell him how she felt before it was too late. If she could
reach inside and divulge her true feelings for him at a time like
this, than mayhap he would do the same. Throwing caution to the
wind, she said the words aloud.

“I love you, Corbett.” Tears welled in her
eyes and she trembled. He stopped with his hand on the door latch
and a flicker of anticipation surged through her. How she longed to
hear the endearment returned. Three simple words and she’d know he
loved her, no matter what her status

The longer he stood there without turning
around, the more her legs quaked beneath her. The deafening silence
was unnerving, and she longed for him to speak. She’d opened her
heart completely tonight, and she could only hope he’d do the same
for her.

Then, he turned his head slightly and
Devon’s knuckles whitened as she gripped the bedpost in
anticipation. She held her breath, waiting, wanting. Wondering if
there could ever be a future between them.

"I've missed you, Devon, I truly have,” he
finally answered. “But we both know we are only fooling ourselves
if we think we can have more together than we do right now.”

Devon’s heart cried out in wounded pain. He
wasn’t going to say it after all. Devastation flooded her senses,
drowning her in grief.

He never turned around, and she found
herself thankful for this small blessing. She didn’t want him to
see her like this. She’d bared her soul and he’d slammed a door in
her face. In one swift move he left, and Devon was alone once
again.

Corbett closed the door to his solar and
leaned against it. He raked a hand through his hair in frustration
and pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t bring himself to
tell her he loved her, even though it was true. It would have only
made matters worse. He would choose a titled bride on the morrow,
and Devon’s heart would be crushed. She didn’t deserve such
treatment. His admittance of love would only confuse her more.

How he wished things were different and he
could choose her as his bride. But he’d worked so hard his entire
life to bring respect back to the Blake name, that he had to follow
this through. He wouldn’t make the same mistake as his father. He
didn’t want his children living in the shadows of shame the way he
did. They wouldn’t live like peasants when they should really be
living as nobles. He would make sure they inherited his title and
lands when he passed on. Never again would the Blake family be
whispered about behind their backs or be the favorite topic of
wagging tongues. No Blake would ever want for anything again.

He rested his head back against the door,
able to hear Devon’s sobs from within. He cursed under his breath
and bit the inside of his cheek until it bled. He hated himself,
and only blamed God for his troubles. But he refused to lose what
he’d worked so hard to keep. He was a noble and would live by the
standards expected of him. He stood with feet planted firmly on the
ground and held his head high. Then he straightened his tunic and
headed to the great hall to choose the girl he would marry.

Chapter
18

Corbett's raven woke Devon the next morning
as it tapped its beak upon the headboard of Corbett's finely carved
bed. Devon was lost in the moment, almost forgetting where she was
as she lazily stretched out among the fine linens. The morning
light filtered through the partially opened shutters, and she could
hear the sounds of horse drawn carts upon the cobbled stones. The
voices of soldiers, servants, vendors and guests, dispersed
throughout the courtyard. The hustle and bustle was all in
preparation for the knighting and tournament that would take place
that day.

The vapors of squirrel stew, sugared
mackerel and freshly baked bread sifted into the window from the
kitchen, smelling almost as good as the venison she’d once shared
with Corbett. She opened her eyes, wondering if Corbett rested next
to her in bed, hoping last night was only a bad dream.

Her eyes scanned the bed but she was alone,
still atop the covers and fully dressed. She sighed in despair and
closed her eyes, rolling over. She tried to ignore the pesky raven
who still tapped away recklessly annoying her to no end, but to no
avail.

"Go away," she scolded the raven, hoping her
words would scare it so it would stop its infernal tapping.

"I don't take a fancy to being banished from
my own solar."

Her eyes popped open and she saw Corbett
standing by the partially opened door. He looked tired and drained,
and she knew now he'd spent the night somewhere other than his own
chamber. He closed the door and walked over to the wash stand
without looking at her. His hair was tousled and his tunic very
rumpled.

"I see you spent the night elsewhere."
Devon's statement was more of an accusation than a comment, her
emotions still shaken.

Corbett removed his tunic, his back still
toward her. She couldn't help but be affected by the sight of his
bare skin. His scar was healing nicely, and she wanted to place
kisses across his shoulders to make him feel better.

"I had…things…to attend to."

Now she was sure he probably sampled the
women before making his choice as to a wife. No doubt he'd coupled
with more than one in coming to his decision.

"So how did you choose the winning wife? Was
it by the biggest breasts or solely on how she performed in
bed?"

His head snapped around and she could see
the cloud of displeasure darkening his already dour
disposition.

"Why should it matter?" His blue eyes icy,
he turned and dunked his head in the basin of water. She could tell
by the sharp intake of his breath that the water was cold.

“You disgust me,” she retorted, turning on
her side so she wouldn’t have to watch him. His presence in the
room was disturbing since she couldn’t bring herself to hate him,
even though she’d tried.

"I'd like to repay the compliment by saying
you disgust me as well. I've never known a servant to sleep half
the day away."

She looked backed toward the window and
tried to calculate the time of day. She must have slept longer than
she intended. Her eyes felt sunken on her face from crying all
night, and her body felt weak and cold. The raven rapped on behind
her, and irritated, she turned toward it wanting to ring its
neck.

"Stop that noise, you feckless bird."

Corbett continued to wash in the basin. "My
bird is not feckless."

He dried his hair with a towel and came to
the bed. The water droplets ran in rivulets from his long wet hair
and Devon couldn't help but follow the drops' paths down his broad
chest and past his flat, dark nipples. She remembered how hard his
muscles felt beneath her fingers and how warm his chest was as she
lay against it all night long. But that was of the past now. Today
he’d be married, and she’d never feel his body against hers
again.

Corbett threw the towel at the foot of the
bed and grabbed a tunic from his trunk. He pulled it over his head
swiftly, and Devon was glad, as she was not able to trust herself
any longer with him walking around half naked. He sat on the edge
of the bed to change his boots, and Devon felt her pulse quicken
just to be so near him.

The rapping of the raven's beak kept pace
with her rapidly beating heart.

"Is that your amulet he's got again? ’Tis
almost as if he thinks it's his."

"My amulet?" Devon’s hand rushed to her
pocket only to find it empty.

"Aye, and from the possessive look in his
eye, I think he intends to keep it. Too bad, for I know how
important it is to you. I think only death itself could pry it from
your existence."

Devon crawled over the bed and grabbed the
amulet from the raven's beak. The bird didn't let go at first but
when it did, she went sprawling back upon the covers.

Corbett couldn't help but feel a stab to his
heart. Her hair drifted over his pillows, her green eyes shone in
the sunshine, sparkling like gems. He wanted her badly. So badly it
hurt. Last night after conversing with the potential brides into
wee hours of the morning, he realized he’d gotten more lightheaded
from the wine and ale than he did from any of the titled ladies.
One look at Devon lying upon his bed and his head was lighter than
a feather. She looked so natural. Like she belonged there. And it
was right where he wanted her to stay.

"When I see you like this," said Corbett,
"'tis hard to remember you are not a princess, but only a
maidservant. If things were different, I’d . . ."

"You’d what?" she asked, hope shining in her
sparkling eyes. The innocence was back, even though she was no
longer a maiden. He’d taken from her something that could never be
replaced. He couldn’t take her dreams as well by making her think
they could be together. He swallowed deeply and turned away.

"'Tis naught but idle thoughts. Now get
yourself ready as I've promised Ruford you could attend the
festivities and they'll be starting soon."

He was surprised to feel Devon's hold upon
his arm. He turned to her and her lips trembled as they faded in
and out of a slight smile.

"If only what?" she asked. "What was it you
were about to say?"

He reached out his hand and tilted her chin
upward, wanting one last kiss before he gave her up forever. He ran
his thumb across her satiny lower lip, remembering the way it
turned down into a seductive pout, and never wanting to forget
it.

"Who are you Devon?" he whispered. "Who are
you and why have you appeared in my life?" He pulled her into his
arms and she came willingly. Not trusting that he’d be able to stop
if he kissed her lips, he instead kissed her gently atop the
head.

"Why should it matter?" she asked. "Would it
make a difference about how you feel toward me?"

"Naught could ever change that," he said and
kissed her this time upon the forehead. She trembled slightly as he
kissed her cheek and lifted her hair, placing kisses down and
around to the back of her neck.

Devon pushed him away for some odd reason,
and smoothed her hair over her neck.