The Viking Takes a Knight (13 page)

“What?” he asked.

“'Tis naught. A draft of cold air.”

“There is no cold air. What happened?”

“Do not make a fuss over nothing.”

Refusing to accept her words, he took her hand
and led her into a solar, where he undid her apron brooches and released the laces at the neckline of her
gunna
, tugging it down to the elbows. There were two black and blue rings on her upper arms, which would soon turn yellow, as well. Loncaster had almost broken her bones, so hard had he gripped her.

“I will kill the man,” John seethed after he'd taken her down to his honey shed and put warm honey poultice on both bruises. He kissed one, then the other arm.

Not if he kills you first
, she thought. Even if John wanted her now for more than a quick romp, she couldn't stay and jeopardize his life. Henry and Loncaster were her problems, not his.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, he didn't try to make love to her now. Or make lust, she corrected herself. Either way, he had more important things to do back inside the keep. Even if he had taken her in his arms now, it wouldn't have made any difference.

First thing on the morrow, she was leaving Hawk's Lair.

 

She was worth the risk, after all…

At least a dozen of his men complained about the meal that night. Not that it was bad, but prepared by the new cook, it was just regular fare.

Where was Ingrith?

That's when he discovered the horrible truth. She was planning to leave Hawk's Lair.

The orphan children were weeping, the cook was complaining that the job was too hard, Bolthor and Katherine were giving him dirty looks. And Hamr just grinned as if he knew something John did not.

He would have gone for her immediately, but Bolthor insisted he stay for his latest creation: “The Lesson of Danger.”

As far as Bolthor's poems went, this one was not so bad, and John told him so. To which Bolthor replied, “Then heed the message, fool, afore your love is gone.”

“What love?”

Bolthor just shook his head at him.

It was only later, as one person after another turned away when he got near, that he finally found out the reason for the shunning. The reason the new cook had prepared the meal…the reason why Ingrith was missing from the dinner table…wasn't due to her head megrim, which she'd claimed to have earlier. She was packing up to leave in the morning.

“Where is she?” he demanded of Ubbi after finding both his and her bedchambers empty.

The little man, who was eating in the kitchen, did not even look up.

“I asked you, gnome, where is your mistress?” he gritted out.

“Go away. My mistress has no need fer a troll.”

What if I need her?
He picked Ubbi up by the scruff of the neck and shook him. “Tell me where she is or you will be turning on yon spit, and all in my keep will dine on roast gnome come morning.”

Ubbi spat out a series of foul words, but the new cook, Ardith, interceded for him. “She is in the stable packing the wagons. She plans to sleep there tonight to be ready for a dawn departure.”

“Oh, she does, does she?” He stomped toward the back door and turned at the last moment to point a finger at Ubbi, who was rubbing the back of his neck. “Stay here if you value your life.”

Wearing the tunic and
braies
she had arrived
in—
Was it only a sennight ago?
—she was indeed up on the wagon, arranging various leather bags and blankets, along with stacks of bread and various other foodstuffs to carry on the road to wherever she planned to go. The wagon bed was covered with straw, no doubt to make beds for children on which to sleep along the way.

By the light of two wall torches, he could see her every action in the dark barn. He paused, relishing the sight. Right now, she was bending over, exposing to him one of her best body parts as the fabric of her
braies
stretched over her rump. She was wrapping a sword in protective cloth. God only knew how she planned to use the weapon.

“Going somewhere, Ingrith?” he inquired as calmly as he could when fury boiled his blood.

“Uh.” Guilt bloomed like fire on her cheeks.

He reached up and lifted her to the ground.

She was too surprised by his arrival to protest.

“You were leaving without my permission?” He stepped closer to her…in a menacing manner, he had to admit.

She bristled and moved back from his close proximity.

As if he would let her escape!

“I do not need your permission. You are not my husband.”

“Let me rephrase that. You were leaving without even saying good-bye.” He moved closer again.

She backed up more. “'Tis better that way.”

“Better for whom?” He saw an empty stall behind her with fresh straw and a blanket. Her bed for the night, he supposed. It would be a bed all right, but not for sleeping.

This time when she backed up, she realized where she was and panic filled her blue eyes.

Why the panic?
“You need not fear me, Ingrith, lest you consider being naked and being stroked to screaming ecstasy a danger to fear. I intend to punish you for this transgression, but in a way you will ultimately enjoy.” That had not been his original intent when seeking her out. Leastways, not that he'd been aware.

“I don't want this.”

“Liar!”

Tears filled her eyes. “I want this too much, then.”

I do not need tears now. Tears dampen enthusiasm.
“And that is why you leave?”

She nodded, watching intently as he removed his long surcoat, tunic, and belt, hanging them over the stall gate, which he had closed behind them. As he toed off one boot, then another, she began to speak. “I can't stay here, John. It's too dangerous.”

I'll tell you what is dangerous, m'lady. Trying to talk down a raging enthusiasm.
“And you think traveling on an open road with only a gnome to guard you is not dangerous?” He inhaled sharply for patience. “Where were you going, by the by?”

“Jorvik. To find your stepfather's longship and go to Stoneheim.”

“Jorvik!” He cursed under his breath. “And Loncaster? Didst not imagine he is watching the road from here to Jorvik?”

“I planned to camp in the woods a few hours from here, and then travel by night.”

“God above!” He shrugged out of his
braies
and yanked off his hose.

“God above!” she exclaimed, but she was not remarking on the idiocy of her plans, as he had. She was staring at the cockstand that pointed at her like an accusing finger. A giant accusing finger, if he did say so himself.

It was only when he began to remove her apron and loosen the neck ties of her tunic that Ingrith struggled, then put her hands on his shoulders to stop him. “Wait,” she said. “I really must go. Opening my thighs to you will only make things hard when I go.”

“Things are already hard, if you must know,” he muttered, and he didn't mean difficult. Aloud, he said, “Your mention of opening your thighs doesn't help your cause.”

“Tsk-tsk-tsk!” Apparently she knew good and well what he'd meant. “Loncaster will kill you if I stay. He told me so.”

He paused in his attempts to undress her squirming body and tilted his head to the side. “He cannot kill me when I have an army behind
me, and, believe me, the combined forces of Hawk's Lair and Gravely are an army.”

She shook her head in dispute and ducked under his arm, which had been raised to loosen the braid arranged atop her head and to finger comb it over her shoulders. He grabbed her by the neck of her tunic when she attempted to open the gate. The tunic ripped right down the center of her back, as much to his surprise as hers.

Turning, she blinked at him in dismay and leaned against the stall to hold the back of her tunic in place. Useless effort, that. He merely yanked on the sleeves and had the garment off and lying in the straw before she could speak. And speak she did. The woman did like to talk. Which would be fine under other circumstances, but right now he had other plans for her mouth.

“Loncaster would not use obvious means to wield his evil. He would find a way to stab you in the back when you least expect it.”

For a moment, he did not understand, his brain having gone blank at the sight of her perfectly round breasts with their palest rose nipples. He wanted to taste them and touch them and bring her to ecstasy when he finally suckled. But wait. What had she said about Loncaster? John rubbed a hand across his mouth, studying her. It was true concern he saw in her eyes. Concern and, yea,
mayhap even love, which he did not want. Did he? Not unless it meant she would give him her body freely and without inhibition.

“You were going to risk your life for me?” His heart was beating so fast he could scarce breathe.

“Yea, but not just you. Loncaster would go after others I lo…care about, too. Like Ubbi. Or the orphans. Look what he did to the orphanage for spite. A man like that would stop at nothing.”

The woman risked all for me. Does not matter what she says. To protect me, she was going to expose herself and the children to Loncaster's threat.
“How could you think I would want to hide behind a woman's shield? What honor is that? Methinks death would be better than a loss of manhood.”

“That is lackwit talk. Dead is dead. Pride need not be your downfall.”

“You are my downfall, Ingrith, but not because of some miscreant military commander.” He touched the tips of her breasts with his fingertips only, but they bloomed into hard points of arousal.

“What…what do you mean?”

“You and I have unfinished business.”

As he removed the rest of her clothing, she gave up on shoving his hands away with a groan of surrender. “Why are you doing this, John? You know it's best for all of us if I'm gone. You've said as much more than once.”

“Can a man not change his mind? Can a man
not say lackwit things without being reminded of them forever and ever?”

“Huh?”

He smiled at her and saw the way her lips parted on a sigh. She'd told him more than once that his smile melted her. He could only pray that it did so now. With that in mind, he smiled some more, besotted lackwit that he was.

“We're going to make love, Ingrith.”

“Really make love?”

He could tell she was skeptical. “We are.”

“Do you mean…oh, my! But why now? What is different now than it was…let's say, yesterday?”

Blather, blather, blather. If I am not careful, we are going to talk our arousals to death.
“It was inevitable, but Bolthor brought home to me tonight how fleeting life can be. Danger lurks everywhere. Best we cherish each day as it comes.”
That was good! I did not realize I could be so poetic.

“You are taking advice from Bolthor now?”

He grinned. “Amazing, isn't it?”

He was lowering his mouth to hers when she stopped him again. “Will you be doing that honey thing?”

“Honey thing?”
I wonder if my eyes are crossed with frustration.

“The things you make the people do in your birthing-control experiments?”

That stopped him short.
She knows about that.
Truly, my people cannot keep a secret worth a damn.
“Nay. One of the females in the experiment is breeding, which means the honey paste is not foolproof. Plus, methinks breeching a maidenhead would be more than hardened honey could withstand.” He flicked her woman-fleece with his fingertips and chuckled. “After having touched you here, I know how hot you are. Your woman-heat would melt a stone, let alone a honey cap.”

She blushed and attempted to cover her breasts with one arm and her nether parts with the other, but he took both hands and placed them on either side of her on the stall's rail, a position that made her breasts present themselves in the most tempting manner.

“And afore you get offended, woman-heat is a good thing.”

He kissed her bare shoulder and licked first one nipple, then the other, pleased at the moan it produced. “I will withdraw afore spilling my seed. There is still a risk, but not as great.”

“Is that a risk you really want to take? We can do…you know…what we did before. Oh, my gods! Do
that
again.”

He had just rubbed his chest hairs back and forth across her breasts.

“Happy to oblige.” And he did. But to answer her question: “Heartling”—it was the first time
he'd seriously used that most precious endearment to her, and she knew it, he could tell by the softening of her expression—“you were willing to risk your life for me. How can I do anything less?”

“I don't want payment. Can't you see—”

“Shhhh!” He was exploring the inner whorls of her ear now with the tip of his tongue, an activity she seemed to enjoy immensely. He did, too. “Our making love was going to happen eventually. We both know that. This way, I can at least take a modicum of caution.”