Love Beyond Time (22 page)

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Authors: Flora Speer

Tags: #romance historical

BOOK: Love Beyond Time
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“You are the most amazing woman.” He put an
arm around her waist, pulling her closer still. With his other hand
he moved her legs apart until she was straddling his thighs and her
bare breasts were rubbing against the hair on his chest. With her
eyes closed and Michel’s mouth on hers, she became intensely aware
of the way he was holding her. She could feel the hard part of him
caught between her belly and his. He loosened his hold on her and
drew back a bit to watch her face as she wriggled around, not quite
sure what it was she was searching for. Michel gave her time to
find her own way. She knew he was observing her, knew he knew what
it was she wanted. There was a hot burning between her thighs. She
needed something to press against it, to ease her growing
discomfort.

She found it. The tip of his hardness slid
into hot wetness. Never had Danise known such a sensation. She
closed her eyes more tightly and threw back her head, the better to
relish this new experience. Michel’s mouth seared across her
throat. Every bit of her body came vibrantly alive. She pushed more
firmly against his hardness, wanting more of him inside her. She
felt a faint stretching sensation and winced. Abruptly, Michel
withdrew from her.

“No,” she protested. “Don’t go away. Come
back to me.”

“I couldn’t leave you now.” Though his
movements were gentle, his voice was harsh with tension. He eased
her down onto the blanket. His hands were on her thighs, separating
them. He was pushing himself into her, pushing farther than he had
been just a moment or two before, and she felt the stretching begin
once more. He went slowly, and she helped him, she lifted herself
to meet him. She wanted him inside of her, all of him deep and hot
inside her, but still the stretching was uncomfortable. Just when
it threatened to become outright pain her body gave way and
accommodated him so that he was buried in her.

At that very instant there was an explosion
of thunder above them so loud and terrifying that Danise cried out
and jumped, wrapping her arms around Michel and holding on tight to
him. She heard his gasp and then his low laugh in her ear.

“That was for dramatic effect,” he whispered,
kissing her. “Are you all right?”

“How can you speak? How can you think? I can
only – only – oh, Michel, what are you doing?”

“Loving you.” He was moving inside her,
carrying her to a state of ecstasy beyond anything she had ever
dared to dream. And she, without thought or will of her own, was
moving with him, wanting everything he cared to give her, moaning
and calling out his name until his mouth silenced her wild cries
and she could scarcely breathe and there was nothing in the world
but his strong, demanding body and her eager, receptive one.

 

* * *

 

Only gradually did she become aware once more
of the drumming rain on the roof, or the rattle of thunder or, most
important, Michel’s form sprawled atop her. She held him in her
arms, loving the weight of him, loving everything they had done
together.

“If I am made yours by this,” she whispered,
“then you are made mine as well.”

“Always and forever,” he murmured.

She had not been sure he would hear her. She
had thought he was asleep. He moved to one side, taking his weight
off her and she regretted the loss. He reached out an arm to pull
the blue cloak over them, tucking it in around her. She lay
contentedly in his arms while he kissed her face and her hair and
told her how wonderful she was and how happy she made him.

“It did not hurt,” she whispered in answer to
his concerned question. “It was beautiful.”

“I’m glad.” His lips brushed hers. “You are
beautiful, Danise. You are all any man could ever want.”

She fell asleep with his voice in her ears
and the sound of the rain in the background.

Danise woke to the crash of the door swinging
open at a blast of wind. Rain blew into the hut, dampening the
lovers upon the floor. Michel leapt up to close and relatch the
door. Danise turned her head to watch him.

As he reached the door there came a
near-blinding flash of lightning. In that long, sustained burst of
blue-white light, Danise saw Michel clearly outlined – and saw,
superimposed upon his being, Hugo’s face and form. The apparition
lasted for only the blink of an eye, until the lightning was gone
and darkness came again. The sight shook Danise to her very
soul.

In a blaze of comprehension akin to that
lightning bolt she understood the meaning of what she had seen.
Michel was not Hugo; they were two very different men, but some
portion of Hugo’s spirit dwelt in Michel. It was what had drawn her
to him, the reason she had been unable to resist Michel since their
first meeting. It was also the reason for Michel’s immediate and
unwavering desire for her.

It was beyond understanding. Still, Danise
was certain that Hugo’s boundless love for her had survived the
centuries and had found a way to join with her so that, in Michel,
she could discover the happiness she had for so many long, lonely
months believed must be denied to her because of Hugo’s death.

Very little time had passed since Michel had
risen to close the door. He lay down beside her again. At some time
in the future she would tell him about her astounding discovery.
But not now, not just yet. For this moment it was enough that she
loved him and was certain of his love. She opened her arms to him
and drew him closer, holding him while he rested his head on her
bosom and drifted into sleep once more.

“My love,” she whispered softly, her heart
filled to overflowing with peace and joy. “My dear, dear love.”

Chapter 11

 

 

Danise wakened to a morning of dazzling
sunshine, to tree leaves glittering with the last, lingering
droplets left by the previous night’s storm. The air was cool and
dry, the breeze gentle. Clad only in Michel’s linen undershirt and
his blue cloak, she stood in the door of the hut, looking out upon
the sparkling day and recalling the events of the night. All of
those events.

The slight tenderness between her thighs
reminded her of the momentous change in her body, and the man who
lay still sleeping within the hut provided proof of that other
amazing discovery of her mind and heart. In loving Michel, she did
not have to forsake Hugo’s memory or be disloyal to him. In the one
man, she could love both. A smile curved her lips, happiness filled
her being.

Michel stirred, stretching, and turned over.
A tiny spot of blood upon the blanket next to him was evidence of
their first joining. A second loving, near dawn, had caused Danise
only the faintest twinge before passion overtook her. Michel had
promised her that never again would there be discomfort.
Henceforth, only pleasure would attend their lovemaking.

He was looking at her, his eyes shining with
love. Danise went to him and knelt, holding out her arms with the
cloak caught in her hands. When she dropped over him, his arms went
around her and the cloak covered both of them.

“What a way to wake up,” he said,
laughing.

“I do perceive that you are entirely roused
from sleep and eager for the morning’s first activity,” she
murmured.

“I am, but I’m going to restrain myself.
After last night you ought to be sore and I don’t want to make
matters worse for you.”

“You are much too considerate.”

“Don’t complain or I’ll forget my good
intentions,” he teased. Then, sobering, he asked, “I hope you have
no regrets about what we did?”

“I am too happy for regrets.”

“So am I. You are the woman I have wanted all
my life and never found until now.”

“I know it. And you are the man for me. The
only man.”

He looked a little puzzled by her words, but
he did not mention Hugo. She was glad of his silence. She wanted
more time to consider her new knowledge before she tried to explain
it to him.

“Will we be able to reach Duren today?” she
asked. “It is our duty to warn Charles as soon as we can about the
scheme Clodion and Autichar have devised.”

“Not to mention relieving your father’s mind
about your safety,” he added. “Or discovering what has happened to
Redmond and Guntram and the rest of the men. We ought to leave here
at once, but I hate to go. I will always think of this as a special
place.” His arms tightened around her briefly, before he released
her.

“There is just one problem,” Michel confessed
later, after they were finished eating and dressing. “I’m not sure
exactly where we are. So, let’s follow the stream and hope it
spills into the Rur. If it does, we can use the river to guide us
back to Duren.”

“How clever of you,” she said, and added,
smiling at him, “I would have suggested the same course
myself.”

“Imp.” He was laughing when he lined her onto
his horse. “Ill have you know I learned that bit of wilderness lore
in the Boy Scouts.” Seeing her raised eyebrows, he laughed again.
Mounting the horse, he took up the reins and put a steadying arm
around Danise. “Ill tell you all about the Boy Scouts some day,” he
promised.

“There are surprising things for me to tell
you, too,” she murmured.

“I look forward to it.” He paused to kiss her
before urging his horse away from the charcoal makers’
settlement.

With a well-rested mount and weather that
made action a delight instead of an overheated trial, they made
good time, reaching Duren shortly after midday. Michel rode past
the sentries, right through the camp, and up to the royal tents.
Their passage created an outcry of relief and curiosity, so that by
the time Michel let Danise down into Savarec’s waiting arms, the
open space at the center of the Frankish camp was filled with
people.

“My little girl, my dear daughter,” Savarec
cried, embracing Danise over and over.

“In the name of heaven, Savarec,” said Sister
Gertrude, “let the girl catch her breath before she faints from
lack of air.”

“Michel.” Charles drew him aside. “Where are
the others who were with you?”

“Redmond ordered me to carry Danise to
safety,” Michel said. “I thought it best to obey him. I left him
and the other men in combat with Autichar, who I believe had less
than a dozen warriors to Redmond’s twenty or so. I would expect
them to arrive with their prisoners before this day’s end. We
agreed they would try to keep Autichar alive so he can talk to you,
but Danise was clever enough to coax much of Autichar’s plan from
him, and she’ll be happy to tell you about it.”

“Then I will see both of you in private at
once. It would be well for me to have as much information as I can
before I meet Autichar.” Raising his voice to be heard over the
excited conversation of the Franks, Charles called out, “Savarec,
will you bring your daughter and join me in my tent?”

“After such an ordeal, Danise needs to rest,”
Sister Gertrude objected. Charles fixed her with a wise and knowing
eye.

“You may come with us,” he said, “so Danise
will need to tell the tale but once. Alcuin, you come, too.” He led
the way into his tent, Alcuin close behind him, Savarec following
with a protective arm around Danise. When Michel would have gone
with them, Sister Gertrude stopped him, placing a hand on his
shoulder.

“Is she truly unharmed?” the nun asked. “I
want to have the right words prepared to say to her if Clodion – if
he -”

“Save for the abduction itself, Clodion did
not hurt her. Nor did Autichar.” Michel’s eyes were on Danise’s
back as her father escorted her into the royal tent.

“And you?” Sister Gertrude’s voice was
sharper than usual. She moved in front of Michel, thus forcing him
to take his gaze from Danise and look at her. Sister Gertrude
regarded him in silence for a while, her expression gradually
changing to one of disgust. When she spoke again her voice matched
her face. “So, after all, you are like every other man.”

“I love her with all my heart,” he said.
“It’s as though I have loved her since the beginning of time.”

“Which is what every man says to an innocent
young woman when he is at the promising stage. Later, he forgets
those promises and leaves her, as you will do.”

“I did not force her,” he said, beginning to
be angry, “and I will not leave her.” He would have added that what
he and Danise did in private was none of her business. Sister
Gertrude did not give him the chance. She turned her back on him
and stalked into Charles’s tent. Michel could only follow.

While Savarec interrupted frequently with
exclamations of rage and dire threats against Clodion and Autichar,
Charles listened in ominous silence to Danise’s story and to
Michel’s report of the search for Danise and how they had found
her.

“I do not know which angers me more,” Charles
said when the tale was finished, “the treachery of a man I trusted
for years, or the use of a maiden as a pawn in the plot. Danise, I
commend your courage. Michel, I thank you, as I am sure Savarec
also does, for your part in rescuing Danise. I do promise, you will
be well rewarded for what you have done.”

“I didn’t do it for reward,” Michel said. “I
did it for Danise. And for Savarec, who has been my friend since my
first day at Duren.”

Sister Gertrude greeted these remarks with a
derisive snort, and for a moment Michel feared she would announce
that he had proven himself no true friend to Savarec when he made
love to Savarec’s innocent daughter. It was Alcuin who prevented
Sister Gertrude from saying anything.

“It seems to me that Danise is weary and
would like to rest,” Alcuin said. “Perhaps our good Sister Gertrude
would carry these happy tidings to Hildegarde. Later, Danise may
wait upon the queen to recount her adventures.”

“An excellent idea,” said Charles, whose
sharp eyes did not miss the way Sister Gertrude was looking at
Michel. “Sister Gertrude, you are the one person who could speak to
Hildegarde without overly distressing her for Danise’s sake.”

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