Warrior's Deception (29 page)
Read Warrior's Deception Online
Authors: Diana Hall
She closed her mouth and sat up straight in the chair. Her eyes brightened, like a fire on a cold winter day. When she rose, a soft gold light burned deep within them. Her finger poked him in the chest. “Roen de Galliard, are you refusing to free me?”
“By the saints, you are daft!” Roen yelled back. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“Why?” Lenora demanded. “A few days ago you accused me of adultery. Why don’t you want your freedom? Why now do you claim this child? Do you say these words so that Father may relent and renegotiate our marriage prenuptial? If I lose my babe, will you still lay the claim that I am yours?”
Sir Edmund raised his eyebrows and asked, “Aye, I’d like to know the same myself.”
“I’d like to know, too.” Hamlin gave him a big grin and nodded toward Beatrice. “She wants to know, too.”
Roen stood surrounded by expectant faces. Only one consumed his vision. Her mouth parted and she licked her lips. He wanted to reach out and taste the sweetness and fire they offered. The want warmed to a longing, then flamed to hot desire.
“I realize that our marriage was arranged under somewhat unusual circumstances, but still I think that, all in all, ‘tis been an acceptable situation….”
Her mouth screwed up into a disappointed pucker. Her head wagged back and forth. She didn’t believe him. Hamlin crossed his arms and shook his head.
A trickle of sweat worked its way down his shoulder blades. No breeze eased the stifling heat of the hall. Lenora began to turn from him. He caught her around the waist with his free hand.
She lifted her head. A curl fell over one amber eye. He released her to comb it back from her face. The palm of his hand cradled her cheek. The rest of the room faded away and he lost himself in the beauty of her features. He didn’t feel the stares of the others; only she mattered.
“I’m sorry, Nora. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you and believe in you. I’m sorry that I deceived you. Sorry I was afraid of being a father like my own.”
A serene smile graced her lips and her stance relaxed. Roen heard his heart crashing through the armor surrounding it. He could not deny his true desires any longer. “But, God forgive me, I’m not sorry we’re married. Whatever happens with the child, I can’t let you go. I won’t let you go.”
His lips sealed against hers tenderly. He caressed her mouth with his own, rediscovering its sweet nectar. The tip of her tongue flicked across his lower lip. His body flared with need.
Her arms wound around his neck and he felt her breath against his ear. He buried his head in the gentle crook of her neck and felt tears come to his eyes. A burst of incredible joy overcame him. In this woman’s arms, he felt secure and content.
The sounds of people milling about brought him back to reality. He wanted to be alone with his wife. Lifting his head, Roen pulled her toward the stairs. She dug in her heels.
“Nora?” Why was she hesitating? What more did she want?
“Say it.” With soft pressure she pulled her hands from his. “You’ve said you’re sorry, now say the rest. I’m not moving from this spot until you do.”
The heat returned to Roen’s face, though passion did not inspire it. “Lenora…” He stretched out her name in controlled frustration.
She tilted her chin, hugged her elbows and began to tap her foot. “You know, you’re in sad need of a bath, Galliard.” Then she winked!
The heat in his body ignited. Erotic memories of their last steamy bath erased all his trepidation.
“I love you. Don’t count on hearing it again. Now stop this foolishness and come to…” He couldn’t finish because she jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck. She covered his face in kisses.
“About damn time.” Sir Edmund’s hand slapped him on the back. A cheer came from Hamlin and the troops. Falke and his group tipped their goblets to him and drained them. When had the room filled with people? Roen realized he didn’t care, as long as his wife’s soft and loving body nestled in the crook of his arm.
“I’ve loved you since that day in the loft,” Lenora said in a soft voice.
“Then why the hell didn’t you tell me? ‘Twould have saved a lot of trouble on all our parts.” Roen wrapped his favorite curl around his finger.
“Because you were being such an insufferable, uncouth barbarian.” She pretended to snap at his hand.
Roen opened his mouth to argue but caressed the nape of her neck instead. “What a little deceiver you are.”
Lenora rested her head against his chest. “Me? ‘Twas I who was deceived.”
He kissed the top of her hair, and the smell of wildflowers scented the air. The silky strands tickled his nose. “Nay, of us all, you are the one who created the greatest deception.” She tilted her head and wrinkled her brows together. “’Twas you who tricked this hardened warrior. You pulled the armor from my heart and made me believe in love. I pray this veil of love will never be lifted.”
On tiptoe she reached up and pressed her lips to his own. Her voice quivered with emotion when she spoke. “I intend, warrior, to keep you deep within its folds.”
Loud cheers and goblets rose in the air to toast Roen and the future. But the words were unnecessary. All of his deepest wishes existed in the beauty and love of the woman he called his wife. He thanked his Creator for the precious gift bestowed on him and vowed that he would never again be part of a deception against his Nora.
Except, perhaps, when it came to Nine Man Morris—the prize was just too good to give up.
L
enora moved her stone to the next square and captured one of Roen’s black markers. Her foot moved under the table to her husband’s leg. Slipping off her shoe, she walked her toes up the inside of her opponent’s calf. She got the desired response. His eyes left the board and gazed into hers. A coy shake of her head, a slow wetting of her lips, and Roen’s concentration no longer resided with the game. He made a wrong move. The win would be hers.
“’Tis not fair, wife.” Roen shooed her foot from his thigh. She kicked off her other shoe and started the whole process over again.
Hamlin slapped his knee. “So, she wins again.”
Beatrice, seated in a chair nearby, called to her husband. “Hamlin, quit teasing the poor man.” She rested her hands on her swollen stomach. “Do you think you could reach that pillow for me?”
He jumped to place the pillow behind her back, then rested his hand on his wife’s womb. A proud smile came to his face. “I feel Rupert jumping around in there. I know ‘twill be a son.”
“That’s what Roen said, too,” Lenora warned.
“More, Grandda. Play more.” She turned to see her father on the floor with his two-year-old granddaughter. Maeve’s black curls bounced up and down while she squirmed to escape her grandfather’s tickling fingers. Goliath stood guard to ensure the roughhousing did not go too far.
“Child, let your grandfather rest,” Lenora admonished with a gentle voice. “Father, you should not tax your heart so much playing with her.”
“I’m fine.” Her father reached for a cup on the table, finished off his drink and smacked his lips. “This tea Alyse has brewed for me from her foxglove plants has eased the pain in my chest considerably.”
“Still, I think ‘tis enough for tonight. Come, Maeve, ‘tis time for bed.”
The child’s wide blue eyes twinkled with mischief. She turned to run away from her mother’s outstretched hand. The rushesparted, her foot lost traction and she fell to the floor. The wail that erupted from her little mouth deafened the entire room.
“Maeve!” Roen called from his seat. “Stop that racket!”
Her father’s voice silenced Maeve to a loud sob.
“Come here and let me see.” Roen backed his chair from the table and held out his arms. His daughter pulled herself up and hurtled into his protective embrace.
“Show me where it hurts.” Roen looked at the tiny hands Maeve displayed to him. He gave Lenora a wink above the tiny ebony-haired girl.
“Here, Papa.” She bent her arm back and presented him with her elbow
Roen examined the joint and brushed it with gentle fingers. Lenora peered over from her seat. Aside from a slight redness, the delicate baby skin showed no injury.
“Hurt.” Their daughter looked from one parent to the next for a remedy for her nonexistent ailment.
“I can see that,” Roen agreed. “What do you think we should do, Mother?”
He knows his daughter so well,
Lenora thought. Playing along, she pursed her lips and looked again. “Well, if ‘tis as bad as she made it out, I think Maeve may need to stay in bed for the next few days.” Lenora covered her mouth with her hand to hide the grin on her lips.
Her husband nodded his head. “Aye. I agree. ‘Tis a shame, too. Spring has finally arrived and I thought to take her out on that new pony tomorrow.”
Maeve’s eyes turned from joy to disappointment. “You fix me, Papa.” She pushed her elbow under her father’s nose. “Kiss. Make it all better.”
A loving smile slanted across his lips. Roen tapped his finger on her arm. “I think that might work. Should I kiss it right here?”
Her chubby finger moved his just a shade to the left. “Here.”
Roen bent and made a loud smack with his lips. Maeve broke into delighted giggles. “All better, Papa.” She threw her arms around her father’s neck and gave him a big kiss in his ear.
He patted her backside and whisked her to the floor. “Now, off to bed with you, and no dallying.” Quick hugs and slobbery kisses for her mother and father were all the stalling the child could accomplish.
Turning her daughter over to the capable hands of the nurse, Lenora promised, “I’ll be in to check on you later.” The dark head already drooped against the shoulder of her nanny.
Lenora watched them climb the stairs to the nursery above. In a few months, Beatrice’s child would add another bed. And by late fall, her second child would join the group.
“Rupert is the name I’ve chosen. I picked it two years ago. Hamlin, you can’t use it,” Roen argued.
“But you didn’t use it.” Hamlin’s eyes twinkled but he kept his face stern.
The man loved to tease her too serious husband. For seven months now he had threatened to name his child Rupert just to antagonize Roen.
“Well, you didn’t expect me to name a girl Rupert, did you?” Roen countered. “Lenora’s expecting another baby in the fall. That one may be a son. We can’t have two Ruperts running around. ‘Twould be too confusing.”
“I’ve always thought Edmund was a fine name,” her father interjected.
Roen’s eyes rolled upward, his usual response to his father-inlaw. “Aye, so you’ve told me. Time and time and time again.”
“Edward. Edwina. Edmund.” Sir Edmund sat near the hearth and ruffled Goliath’s ears. “Aye. All fine names for a boy or a girl.”
Lenora decided that her husband had endured enough ribbing for one night. She rose and took his hand. “’Tis late, husband. Let us retire for the night.”
“But, Lenora, this issue with the name.”
“Will wait, Roen. Come, I want to claim my prize for winning.” With no more argument, he bade his friends good-night and followed her to their chamber.
She heard the door of the room close and his order to her ladies to leave. The light touch of his fingers lifted her heavy braid. With practiced movements, he removed the strip of lace that held her tresses. His fingers traveled the length of her hair and fanned it out across her shoulders. His touch sent quivers of arousal down her neck. Gooseflesh prickled her skin where his breath touched it.
The tie of her laces came undone and her tunic fell in a heap on the floor. Spring air swirled about her chemise-clad body. A breeze, scented with rain and new green plants, flittered across the room. Roen’s lips nibbled at her mouth. The strength of his hands enveloped her.
He broke from the kiss and lifted her from the floor. She embraced his neck and tilted her head to get a better look at him. Years slipped from his face when this gentle smile played across his lips.
She sighed when he headed for the balcony. For some reason, he enjoyed holding her in his lap for hours on their terrace. One more way that he had changed since their declaration of love. He still made her angry, she still lost her temper, but always love softened the words.
Roen settled on a pallet of furs he had placed on the balcony. The soothing circle of his arms, the caress of his fingers through her hair made her whole being glow with happiness and contentment. Faint beams of moonlight glided down from the star-filled night. Her lips brushed against his like the caress of the breeze. “Husband, I don’t know why you like this spot so much, but I’m glad you do. ‘Tis a place I feel very cherished in.”
Roen’s lips against her ear sent delicious sensations pouring through her blood. “Aye, wife. This place is special indeed. For ‘tis here that first I realized how much I truly treasured you.”
The circle of his arms loosened and she turned toward him. Flames of love deepened his eyes to teal. His hand dipped into the opening of her chemise to cup her breast. His lips touched the hollow of her neck like a whisper. Passion flared like the spring, new and exciting time and time again. A moan of
pleasure drifted from her lips. The chemise fell from her shoulders. He slid his hand under her and lifted her from his lap. Her covering floated free. Her naked skin tingled from the air and contact with his hard body.
He eased her down onto the furs. With reverence, his fingers traced the features of her face. “’Twas here I held you and prayed you had not died. ‘Twas here I thought my heart might break if you did not open your eyes.” The words came out choked and strained.
“Hush, love.” Lenora kissed the corners of his mouth. “That time is over now. Well put behind us.” She guided his hand to her still-flat abdomen. “Soon another sign of our love will be visible to all.”
His fingers rested on her stomach, sending flashes of arousal through her. He bent down and kissed her navel, then trailed his tongue lower. Her body arched of its own accord, eager for the pleasure it would soon receive.
“Roen.” His name became a caress on her lips. He moved lower still, his fingers exploring her body.