WolfeShield, page 16
“You do realize that you are already my mistress,” he said. “You are already part of me. Dyce asked me to accept responsibility for you and I did, though in a way I had not intended. I do not think he would be displeased to know that I love you and will undoubtedly take care of you for the rest of your life.”
Isabeth smoothed her surcoat. No matter what she wore these days, it was clear that she was pregnant. Maxwell was sitting high in her belly, under her ribcage, where he liked to roll and punch and kick. Considering this was the furthest into a pregnancy she had ever gotten, Isabeth was thrilled with her healthy, thriving child. But Ronan consumed so much of her thoughts and heart these days that the babe in her belly seemed to come in second behind Ronan at times. She felt guilty for that, one of the many things she felt guilty for, but she did not regret falling in love with the most handsome, kind man she’d ever known, one who encouraged her to learn and thrive and to be true to herself. That was something Dyce had never done. He was so busy building a glass wall around her that he never stopped to ask her what she wanted.
But Ronan did.
As she had said… what’s not to love?
But, God… it had all been such a whirlwind.
“You must know how much I appreciate you and everything you wish to do for me,” she said after a moment. “But tell me this – if I go with you to Halliden, how will you introduce me to others? How will you introduce me to your father and his wife, and your mother and her husband? Will you introduce me as your mistress, the woman who warms your bed, or will you simply keep me hidden away? Do you think they will respect my position with you and look upon me kindly?”
He looked at her with a somewhat pained expression, desperately trying to keep up the confidence in his decisions. “I will introduce you as the woman I love,” he said simply. “Everyone knows I do not love Marian and she certainly does not love me. Esa, I have spent the past ten years being faithful to a woman who has absolutely no loyalty to me. I’ve had to stand by and watch her bear other men’s children, children who bear the de Wolfe name. I have accepted this as the way of my life and have never complained about it because I was instructed not to. My marriage to Marian secures a great alliance and I understand that. But am I not allowed to find happiness on my own?”
Isabeth went to him, reaching out to grasp his enormous arms and force him to look at her. “I do not have the answers you seek because I would be biased,” she said. “You are a man of great honor and compassion, and if it were up to me, I would say that you deserve all of the happiness in the world. If I could live with you in love and harmony and raise Maxwell as Dyce’s son, and as yours, I would do so happily. But you have a position in life, one that will protect you from judgment. I do not have that luxury. I will be judged, and judged poorly, as your mistress. And so will my son.”
Ronan knew she was right but he refused to admit it. Still, her words hurt him. “Then what do you want me to do?” he asked softly. “Do you want me to go away and leave you forever?”
She snorted softly. “I have tried to tell you to do just that, but you will not.”
“Nay, I will not.”
She grinned. “Then we have a dilemma, you and I.”
“I will ask you again – what do you want to do?”
She shrugged. “I do not know,” she said honestly. “Much like you, I know I cannot walk away from you.”
“You will not leave me?”
“Not ever.”
“But you do not want to live at Halliden.”
She hesitated a moment before shaking her head. “I do not think it would be a good idea,” she said. “If my relationship with you will never be proper, I prefer we not make it obvious for all to see. I prefer to be more… discreet.”
He sighed unhappily, but he understood. He pulled her into his arms, gazing down into that magnificent face. “If I were to buy a home elsewhere for you to live, would that be acceptable?” he said. “Mayhap a townhome in Berwick or even Wooler. A small place where you could live as part of the community and I would see you as often as I could.”
She smiled wryly. “People would figure it out sooner or later.”
“Then I’ll build you a castle in the middle of the moors where no one lives,” he said with some sarcasm. “You’ll be completely alone, but at least you would not be the fodder for gossip.”
“I will consider that.”
He laughed softly. “Good,” he said. “But I want to be clear with you. The most important thing is that we always speak on our feeling and fears so that we can work through them. You will not keep anything from me and I will not keep anything from you. Mayhap… mayhap this isn’t the most proper and desirable of circumstances, but nothing can take away from the fact that we love one another. What has happened between us was meant to happen. I do not take it lightly and I know you do not, either.”
Isabeth nodded, accepting his sweet kiss and then falling against him when she lost all self-control. The man had the ability to suck that right out of her. Ronan’s kiss was powerful yet passionate and Isabeth finally had to pull away so she could catch her breath. When he grabbed at her again, she pulled away completely, out of his reach.
He frowned.
“Why are you over there?” he asked. “You should be here.”
He had his arms in a circle, as he did when he was embracing her, but she giggled. “Because if I am there and not over here, I shall never get any work done,” she said. “Truthfully, I only came up here to rest for a few minutes before returning to my task, so I think I have rested long enough. If I stay here any longer, I will rest all afternoon, if you get my meaning.”
He grinned wolfishly. “I get your meaning all too clearly,” he said. “I am willing if you are.”
She laughed softly as she moved for the door. “Tonight, my love,” she said. “And mind you be careful next time. The maids almost saw you last night on the stairs. They no sooner left than you were at my door.”
He shrugged as he sat down to pull on the boots he’d yanked off and tossed aside. “I am always eager to see you,” he said. “I will not apologize for that.”
She lifted the latch. “Be careful next time,” she said again, lifting her eyebrows for emphasis. “I will see you tonight at sup.”
He had one boot on but paused to blow her a kiss. “Until tonight.”
She smiled at him, giving him a wink as she quit the chamber.
Leaving Ronan to finish dressing, Isabeth made her way down the stairs, a smile on her lips as she thought on the powerful, handsome knight she’d fallen so madly in love with. She’d wrestled with it since she realized her feelings for him, but more and more, she was overcoming the guilt in lieu of being completely selfish. Selfish that she was feeling something she’d never felt for Dyce. She was still fond of the man, as she had always been, and her feelings for Ronan did not affect that. What she felt for Ronan was entirely something of its own, delight and adoration so powerful that she could no longer resist it.
Every day that passed proved that.
Emerging from the manse, Isabeth crossed the courtyard, now busy with men and women going about their duties. It was just after midday on this warm summer day, but to Isabeth, it seemed like the most beautiful day in the history of the world. She’d never seen the sky so blue or the sun so bright. Clouds skittered across the sky, pushed by the sea breeze, and every cloud had Ronan’s name on it.
But as she was watching the clouds, someone else was watching her.
*
“There she goes. He’s not come out of the keep yet.”
“He will. He always does.”
Two soldiers stood over near the postern gate that led towards the path down to the sandy beach below. They were older men, one with a milky right eye and the other with a scar that ran from the corner of his mouth down his chin. They were seasoned soldiers, having come from the House of de Grey ten years ago when Marian de Grey married Ronan de Wolfe. They may have worn de Wolfe tunics, but their loyalties were purely de Grey.
“She’s with child,” the man with the milky eye said. “Anyone can see that, though she tries to hide it.”
The man with the scar nodded. “I know,” he said. “The men know. Soldiers gossip like a gaggle of fishwives, so everyone knows. It’s all they can speak of.”
The milky-eyed soldier watched Lady de Brito cross the courtyard. He may have been blind in one eye, but his remaining eye was quite good. He watched the lady make her way to the kitchens next to the great hall until she disappeared from sight.
He grunted ironically.
“How many years have we been in service of de Wolfe?” he asked.
The scar-faced man cocked his head in thought. “Ten years,” he said. “Ever since he married de Grey’s daughter.”
The man with the milky eye shook his head. “A marriage that should have never happened,” he muttered. “I remember de Grey’s daughter bedding the squires when she was young. She liked men before she met de Wolfe and she liked them after. A man deserves a faithful wife.”
The man with the scar looked at him. “What do you want to do about this?” he said. “De Grey told us when we came with his daughter that we were to watch de Wolfe. We were to tell him if anything was amiss. We’ve served the man for ten years and nothing has been amiss until now.”
The milky-eyed solider nodded slowly. “But this will get around,” he said. “Men will say that the child she carries is a de Wolfe. Her husband has been dead these few months and only now she is showing signs of a pregnancy? Of course de Wolfe is the father. He sent his wife away and bedded the widow.”
“You think so?”
“I do,” the milky-eyed one said. “That’s what I told de Grey in the missive I sent him.”
The soldier with the scar looked at him sharply. “You’ve already sent the man word?”
The man with the white eye nodded slowly. “Back when we realized the de Brito woman was with child,” he said. “We’ve not had anything to tell de Grey in all these years, but now… now, we do. He’ll not think us useless now.”
The soldier with the scar scratched his chin. “And the daughter?” he said. “She told us to keep an eye on him, too. We’ve never had anything to tell her, either.”
“She wants to know if her husband is doing exactly as she has been doing all of these years,” the milky-eyed man said. “That’s all she cares about – catching him at what she has been doing so she can hold it over him.”
“Do we send word to her, too?”
“I did when I sent word to her father.” He looked at his companion, the remaining eye glittering dully. “We’ve done our duty, Euan. Let de Grey do as he pleases with the information. Let his whore of a daughter choke when she is told what her husband is doing. It matters not to me what she does.”
Euan leaned against the wall that separated the courtyard from the troop yard to the north, a contemplative gesture.
“’Tis a pity you had to tell her at all,” he said. “De Wolfe is a good man.”
The milky-eyed soldier slapped him on the shoulder. “Good man or not, Edmund de Grey would hunt us down and punish us if he heard about de Wolfe’s bastard from someone else,” he said. Then he waved an arm to him as he headed back towards the troop yard. “Come along. Sir Christian will make an example of us if he sees us standing around. Let’s see the sergeant and find something to do.”
Euan pushed himself off the wall and followed. In truth, they had a fairly easy job of it with Ronan de Wolfe these days, far from the Scottish border and Roxburgh Castle where something was always happening. Ever since they were gifted to the House of de Wolfe as part of Marian’s dowry, they’d seen quite a bit of action. It was good, for once, to know a little peace. But he secretly wondered how much peace Ronan was going to have once Edmund de Grey caught wind of his affair.
He had a feeling that life, for them all, was going to change in the near future.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Portepool Manor, London
Three weeks later
His body was creating a raging fire within her loins.
Marian could feel Gaspard’s manroot moving in and out, a primal rhythm that she eagerly mimicked. Her hips began to grind against his, lightning bursting every time their bodies would come together. The bursts of lightning grew stronger and brighter. Marian cried out in passion, living for the stroke that finally brought about the roll of thunder and ecstasy rippled through her body. Gaspard thrust into her a few more times, his strokes so hard that her teeth rattled, before spilling himself deep into her beautiful body.
The roll of thunder eventually faded but did not die completely. Marian lay beneath her lover, feeling his sweaty body atop her with great satisfaction. But her body was still so highly aroused that when he stroked her gently one last time, out of the sheer pleasure of being inside her, the thunder clapped again and she experienced the thrill of another climax. Gaspard felt her tremor bursts and he clutched her buttocks against him, thrusting in and out of her sensually and feeling at least two more releases until they faded away completely.
When the panting died down and the only sound filling the room was the soft crackle of the fire, Gaspard just lay there and stared at her. Marian’s eyes were closed, her lips softly parted as she dozed in exhausted bliss. This was a peaceful moment, something that was few and far between for the both of them. Ever since they arrived in London, it seemed like all they did was rush about. But at this moment… it was still.
Until her eyes flew open.
“Go,” Marian hissed, slapping his bare arse. “Go before my cousin sees you. You know she comes around at the most inopportune times before supper and I do not want her to find you in my bed.”
Gaspard frowned as he propped himself up on one elbow. “She would have to be a fool not to already realize I am in your bed nightly,” he said. “Somehow, I think she knows.”
It was Marian’s turn to frown. “That does not mean I have to be obvious about it,” she said, displeased that he had the audacity to speak his mind. “Go back to your quarters and I will send for you later.”
Gaspard sighed heavily, running a hand over his dark locks before pushing himself up and climbing out of the bed. He collected his breeches from the end of the bed, turning to look at Marian as she lay there with the coverlet down around her ankles. Her full, ripe body and gently rounded belly was softly illuminated in the firelight.
He looked back to his breeches as he pulled them on.
“Has she asked about the child yet?” he said. “Surely she knows.”
Marian’s hand immediately moved to her swollen belly. “Of course it is my husband’s child,” she said. “Why should she care?”
“Because the child is mine.”
Marian glared at him. “You will never speak those words again,” she said. “I have told you that this child, male or female, will be born a de Wolfe, which is a far better family than yours. You should be pleased that your child will have such advantages. Rather than being the offspring of a lowly knight, the child will be part of a great empire. That’s much better than anything you could ever do for it.”
She’d said those words before, something that stabbed right into the heart of Gaspard’s pride. Over the past three months, Marian had become more and more condescending with him, treating him no better than a servant at times, but he hung on because of the coinage she gave him when her mood was good. He tried to keep it good on a daily basis, bedding the woman whenever there was opportunity and catering to her every whim.
As far as her cousin knew, Gaspard was simply another de Wolfe knight who was Lady de Wolfe’s protector, but the rumor mill at Portepool Manor knew the truth. As in any big house, there was gossip – and much of it – but no one was willing to tell Millicent de Haydon that her young cousin was a married woman carrying on an affair.
But the truth was much more than that.
Now, Marian was pregnant with her lover’s child.
Sadly enough, Gaspard had been pleased with the pregnancy. He didn’t have any children and he had been delighted with Marian’s news, but this was her fourth illegitimate child, from four different lovers, and she had no intention of letting Gaspard claim the child in any fashion. It was a de Wolfe and it belonged to her husband and she laughed bitterly at any sentiment from Gaspard about it. So, he suffered in silence.
But the money was good.
Still…
“Marian,” he said, focusing on the ties of his breeches. “I must ask you something.”
She grunted as she pulled the coverlet over her and rolled onto her side. “What is it?”
He finished with his breeches. “Have you thought any further on what we discussed when you were sent away from Ravenscar?”
“What do you mean?”
“About your husband.”
Marian’s eyes opened when she realized what he meant. “About ridding me of him?”
“Aye.”
She fell silent for a moment. “I have,” she said. “And I am not entirely sure what advantage it would be to do that.”
“You could do whatever you want. His wealth would be yours.”
“I already do what I want and his wealth is mine.”
Gaspard looked at her. “Then listen to what I have to say,” he said somewhat pleadingly. “If he is gone, you will marry me. We shall raise this child as our son and we shall live the life you wish to live. We can travel and drink and feast and do anything you wish to do, only we will do it with each other. I will be at your side, always. Is that not better than being married to a man who is cruel to you?”
Marian rolled away from him. “He is cruel to me,” she said. “But our marriage forms an alliance between two powerful families, Gaspard. Ronan is an important man in his family and he is an elite knight. You make it sound as if doing away with him will be an easy thing but I can assure you it will not be. The man isn’t going to stand still while you drive your sword through his belly.”
