The Heat of the Knight (2 page)

“Your dogs!” Christiana placed her hands on her hips. “Damn you, Beckett de Sax…” She stopped short her tirade, remembering that she was no longer addressing the boy she grew up with. “My lord,” she said through gritted teeth, “had you granted Wilson's or Gilbert's or that tradesman John's…,” there were more names, but by the annoyed expression on his face, she felt it best not to continue to rattle off her suitors, “petition to marry me, I wouldn't be in this pitiful state.”

“And which of those buffoons are you in love with?” He lifted a corner of the linen cloth covering the window and stared at her meager garden. “Hadn't you insisted you would only marry for love? You repeated it as though it were an incantation. You even told me of a woman who'd paid a fee to the king so that she might remain unwed until the right man wooed her.”

The sooty air of the hovel made it hard to draw a breath. She yanked off the floppy hat that held the netting secure, and then unwound the mesh scarf from her face. “Do not shame me by repeating my silly, childish prattle. Love is nonsense, as you and I both know.”

His shoulders drew into a tense line. “Utter nonsense,” he agreed, his tone harsh.

“Had your men not trampled through my garden, I would have had a nice little crop of vegetables.”

He turned around to face her. The way he was looking at her made a lump form in her throat. “Tiana, you've become so fragile.”

It seemed a lifetime since she'd heard that intimate nickname. She was soon watching him through a glistening of tears.

“They spoke of your beauty, but the bastards failed to mention how thin you'd become.”

“Then you do not deny you sent those guardsmen?” she asked, dropping her gaze from his relentless scrutiny.

“Of course I sent them. A woman alone with only an elderly neighbor is not safe. You are my ward, my responsibility.”

“You make it sound as if I were a stone around your neck.” Discreetly, she wiped the tears from her eyes before lifting her gaze. As a knight in training, his sweet, dark, good looks had attracted many a bawdy comment from the women of the village. Now the sweetness was gone, replaced by a hard, unforgiving masculinity. Even through the starfilled gaze of youth, she had not envisioned how incredibly handsome he would become.

“Tiana, you will not survive another winter.”

“And yet, I have survived this long without your help—or any man's for that matter.”

Because of the rude way he'd stormed through her little cottage, she felt compelled to goad him. “Has Colin returned from court?” She wondered if the cousins' rivalry had lessened any as they'd matured.

He flinched at her question. “Forgive my thick skull. I hadn't thought to use Colin's presence as bait.”

Her cheeks flamed hot. “That would indeed have been a lure. 'Twould have been even better if you had sent him in the golden flesh. Then, without doubt, I would have thrown myself at his feet, begging to be delivered from this life.” The angry twitch in his jaw made her realize that the rivalry was still fierce. Unnerved, she slid past him. “Now, if you'll pardon me, I have much to do before the daylight dims.”

Thunderous noise greeted her as she opened the door. A pack of horses was coming over the hillock. Hysterical laughter pierced the air.

Beckett followed her outside.

One rider parted from the group and spurred his reluctant mount through the brambles. Bound by his wrists, a youth was being dragged behind the balking horse.

Christiana stifled a cry with her knuckles.

A couple of the men, spotting their lord, shifted directions and pulled up beside the cottage. “We've finally caught the culprit who's been poaching your salmon,” one of the men boasted to Beckett.

Writhing in pain, the boy was bleeding through his coarse wool tunic. His blond, wiry hair was studded with leaves and twigs.
Thomas.
Christiana had seen him only this morning, trying to tame his stubborn hair with spittle.

“My lord…” Christiana grabbed Beckett's sleeve, “Please let him go. He takes care of his mother and sisters.”

He studied her hand, which still gripped his sleeve. She felt a tremor run through his arm. “I will order his release.”

She smiled.

“On one condition,” he added.

Knowing exactly what was coming, she slumped her shoulders in surrender. “I will work within the castle walls,” she said with a sigh, taking her hand from his arm.

Beckett summoned a group of his men. “Does Grut have knowledge of this?”

“Aye. He encouraged it, my lord,” one of the men responded.

“Then the new forester has just found himself without woods to patrol. Untie the boy and take him back to his home. Send the physician to tend his wounds. And tell Hatton if I see him treating his horse like that again, he'll be finding himself prancing naked through thorny hedges.” His demands were met with a few howls of protest, but his scowl instantly silenced the dissent.

Christiana found it impossible to pull her gaze from Beckett as he hauled himself into the saddle. “You would have let him go without my promise.”

He dipped his head in silent affirmation. “Telling, isn't it,” he said with a grim smile, “how quickly you assumed the worst of me.”

* * * *

“My lord, everything has been arranged. We are ready to leave at dawn.”

“Efficient as always, Arnulph.” Beckett set his falcon onto its perch.

“In addition, my lord, I've made arrangements for your
personal
entertainment tonight.” Arnulph cleared his throat with vigor and rubbed his good eye, a habit he had when a topic embarrassed him. A ferocious warrior with a booming voice, yet he was as bashful as a maiden when matters of an erotic nature were mentioned.

“And, Christiana, has she received instructions?” Beckett peeled off his leather glove.

“Not as yet. Poor, underfed lass. I wager the trays of food and ale weigh more than she. Mayhap in a week or two she will be ready to serve.”

“Arnulph, you've grown soft. Have her carry something lighter. I want her in the dining hall tonight.”

Arnulph raised his brows, and the eyelid seared closed over the empty socket drew taut. “Surely allowing her a day or two to get situated won't hurt. After all, her father was the late Lord's most devoted servant.”

“Do I look like a priest? Alms can be gotten at the church gates. In my household, everyone earns their keep,” Beckett retorted, making a miserable attempt to sound like an earl rather than a love-stricken fool. She still had the most profound effect on him.

Having her so near would probably prove his undoing. The poison of rivalry threatened to choke him again. He was already dreading Colin's return. It pained him to recall how her wan cheeks had pinkened as she'd taunted him with mention of his cousin.

He could have saved himself all that was to come, if he'd only allowed Tiana to marry. There had been many a decent man asking for her hand, and he'd contemptuously refused them all. It was through his own selfishness that she had become his responsibility.

An unsmiling Arnulph regarded him warily. “I will make certain the girl is present in the hall. I'd advise you get some rest. Tomorrow's expedition could be hazardous.”

Beckett gave Arnulph a loud clap on the shoulder. “'Tis all in hand, or should I say pussy. I always sleep soundly after a thorough fucking. I recommend it.”

Arnulph's already ruddy complexion turned even redder. Beckett felt a twinge of guilt for bedeviling the man, but it passed quickly. The sorry bastard did not know what he was missing.

“Let's head in, Arnulph. I believe I'll start my night of debauchery in the bathing room. Send in my favorite bather. You know the one I'm speaking of. The one with the lush pair of lips and the cavernous throat.” He snapped his fingers as her name came to him. “Alice.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Arnulph replied, pursing his mouth in disapproval.

* * * *

Beckett entered the chill, stone room, annoyed to find that there was no one there to help him disrobe. He piled his clothing on the floor. Steam was rising off the bath water as he stepped in. He took a seat on the bathing stool, his cock throbbing with need. 'Twas Tiana's fault. The desire she stirred in him was without equal. It wouldn't matter how many women he bedded between now and sunrise; he would still not feel satisfied. And the one female who could satiate this carnal appetite wished him to hell.

“My lord.” Alice knocked lightly before entering.

“You're late,” he barked, then rested his head back against the mosaic tiled wall and watched her through slitted eyes.

“You may punish me later if you wish to, my lord,” she said, her plump lips pouting seductively. Dropping to her knees beside the tub, she immediately began lathering her hands with the soap. She smoothed her way down his chest, making certain to splash her tunic as she worked so that the fabric clung to her pert breasts. Beckett tugged the loose garment from her shoulders so her hardened nipples would be exposed. As he leaned forward so she could wash his back, he provided a similar service for her. His mouth clamped on one of her nipples, and he laved it with his eager tongue. It was not long before she was plunging her skillful fingers into the water in search of his straining cock.

After giving equal attention to her other nipple, he lifted his head. Alice's nostrils were flaring with each breath. She swept her tongue over her full bottom lip. “If my lord will stand, I shall pour water to rinse the soap away. Then I can be sure that every part is well tended.”

Beckett pushed himself out of the water. Standing on tiptoes, her breasts still naked, Alice poured hot water over his shoulders. With every rinse, her fingers followed a trickle of water to the coarse black hair at the base of his cock. She was soon in a kneeling position again. Her mouth opened like a greedy bird's, her tongue smoothing over every inch of his balls and from the base to the tip of his erection. As she took him fully into her mouth, he dug his fingers into her hair. She moved her mouth rapidly as she held tightly to the base of his shaft. Closing his eyes, Beckett spent himself in her mouth.

He helped her to her feet. His hot seed had trickled down the side of her plush lips, and she wiped it demurely with her finger.

She straightened her hair and pulled her tunic up over her breasts and onto her rounded shoulders. “Shall I attend you tonight, my lord?”

“If you'd like.” Just as he had assumed, the relief he'd found was only momentary.

His demons still plagued him. What pleasure, he wondered, must this woman find with a man whose body was present, but his mind very far away?

Christiana was reluctant to open her eyes, but the strong hand shaking her arm grew more insistent. Her sleep had been thick and dreamless, due, she was certain, to having a belly full of warm pottage. Blinking into the candlelight, she could see a stout figure leaning over her straw mattress.

“Rouse yourself, lass. You will be helping tonight after all.”

“I will?” Familiar weakness overtaking her, she slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

“The master has requested it. What is your name, lass?”

“Christiana.”

“I'm Agnes,” the gray-haired woman said as she walked over to the rack of green woolen dresses and sized one up for Christiana. “You're terribly skinny, but this should do.” She tossed the garment onto the mattress. “Christiana—that name is familiar. Have you worked in the castle before?”

“My father did. He was the late earl's manservant.”

“Your father? Do you mean you are Geoffrey's daughter?”

“Indeed.”

Agnes brought the candle closer to the bed. “I do remember a pretty young thing running around with the two cousins.” Her faded blue eyes inspected Christiana. “Of course, I'd never seen hair that color before or since.” Her gnarled fingers snagged in Christiana's sleep-snarled hair. “It shimmers like silver. You're a right beauty.”

Christiana laughed. “'Tis dark in here.”

“Nonsense. I can see very well. Mayhap, a little too well.” She made a clucking sound with her tongue. “The master will have his way,” she muttered under her breath, as she plucked the dress from the bed. She tossed it onto Christiana's lap. “Here, put this on. It is the smallest I have, so it will have to do. And then come to the kitchen to have a bite to eat. You won't do me much good in your half-starved state.”

The lure of food gave her a burst of energy. Christiana yanked the wooden comb through her hair and changed into the green kirtle. It was loose everywhere but on top.

She sighed. No matter the clothing, her ample breasts always jutted provocatively.

Following the sounds and smells, Christiana made her way to the kitchen. The huge stone hearth alive with flames, the giant black cauldron strung over the fire, and the familiar hiss as the contents occasionally boiled over all brought back many memories.

Every bustling corner had a different, pungent odor, some appealing and some quite wretched. One cook stood at a large oaken table rubbing a mixture of herbs and salt into the naked gooseflesh of plump birds.

The sight of roasting mutton made Christiana nearly dizzy with pleasure. The spitturner favored her with a leering smile as he wiped his sleeve across his sweat-beaded forehead. Agnes gave the youth a good thump on the shoulder as she waddled past him.

“Burn the master's roast and you won't have teeth for smiling,” she chided him.

Agnes shoved a small bowl filled with hot oatmeal and a horn mug with ale foaming over its sides into Christiana's hands.

“I put a dab of molasses in the oats,” she said with a wink. “We'll have you fat and round in no time.”

Christiana sipped the frothy head of the ale and searched for a quiet niche in which to eat. A young woman with a braid as thick as a horse's tail and a rather sullen expression on her face stalked across the room. Christiana's sleeve brushed the woman's.

“You're in the way,” she scolded and delivered a sharp jab with her elbow.

Christiana stumbled and winced as her hip caught on the butcher table. The ale sloshed out of her mug soaking the front of her garment. The kitchen workers were beginning to stare in her direction. Christiana shuffled over to a dark recessed wall and leaned against it, attempting to balance her bowl and mug while she quickly downed the contents of both.