Aislinn nodded. Even the beautiful, roguish curve of his mouth made her yearn for him. Need him.
Water dripped from the ends of her hair and soaked the front of her robe. At the chill, her nipples tightened. As if he sensed the sensual tension in her body, his stare sharpened. He turned to the bed, picked up the towel, and closed the distance between them.
A sweet, heavy ache rooted in her lower belly.
He halted in front of her, surrounding her with his scent, the warmth of his nearness. Reaching out, he caught a handful of her damp hair and dried the ends with the towel. “Tsk,” he said huskily. “You did not do a very good job here.”
“I was hurrying to answer the door.”
His fingers dried more of her hair. He worked with such tenderness, she bit down on her lower lip to keep from swaying against him and wrapping her arms around his neck. Still, she couldn’t keep the little moan from breaking past her lips.
His hands stilled. His gaze flicked to her mouth.
“Aislinn?”
“Oh, Hugh,” she whispered. “Today, in the alley, I was so afraid…”
“Shh,” he whispered back.
She shook her head, tugging strands out of his hands. “I must say what I feel. If either of us had been killed, if we never got a second chance—”
The towel dropped from his hands and landed by her feet. His fingers buried in her hair and with his thumbs, he gently eased her face up. His mouth, hot and hungry, pressed to hers.
Her lips opened to his, took the comfort offered, and gave all of the angst and love she’d pent up inside. With his mouth and tongue, he assured her, over and over, that she had no more reason to worry, that he was here, safe.
“Hugh,” she whispered, tears slipping from her eyes.
His kiss deepened, turned slow and tender, and then he eased away, holding her at arm’s length. She no longer clutched her robe, she realized; her hands were clinging to his tunic. Her robe gaped, revealing her breasts and the curve of her belly.
“God above,” he groaned, his gaze on her naked skin.
His fingers dropped to ease the edges of the robe farther apart to reveal her hardened nipples. Desire etched his face.
“Aislinn,” he whispered. “You are magnificent.”
She smiled, sudden shyness making her draw away from him. As she moved, he followed, his fingers sliding inside the robe to push it off her shoulders. He whisked it down her back to gather at her waist, the fabric pinning her arms at her sides.
He held her there for a breathless, smoldering moment, his gaze devouring every bit of her bared flesh. His attention lingered on the healing wound at her ribs, and then he shoved the robe down. The garment pooled on the floor, and she was naked before him—as naked as he’d been the day she’d found him in the forest.
His gaze prowled over her, from her face to her toes. “Now,” he said with a lusty wink, “we are even.”
She laughed against his lips that were kissing her again. He slid his muscled arm around her, pulled her flush against his body, and her mirth fled, consumed by the hunger coursing through her. While he kissed her, his free hand wandered, sliding up to cup her right breast. She shivered, and as he brushed his thumb over her nipple, she moaned against his mouth. “Love me, Hugh.”
“Always.” His breath fanned against her neck, and he pressed little kisses against her collarbone. Then she was in his arms, and he carried her to her bed and gently laid her on her back on the coverlet. Her arms around his neck, she kissed him, her fevered body arching against him, yearning so intensely for him she could barely lie still.
He kissed her urgently and pulled off his tunic. His boots thumped as they fell to the floor. One of his hands worked at the fastenings of his clothing, and then he settled over her, the hard, pulsing heat of him between her thighs.
“Please,” she whimpered. She couldn’t wait another moment. Not one more…
“Mine,” he whispered against her mouth. He plunged inside her in one swift surge. A groan broke from him, a sound of pleasure and awe.
She gasped. The wondrous fullness, the sensation of being as intimately close as a man and woman could be, made her breath shudder from her lips. Her hips flexed, taking him in deeper, and with ragged sighs, he thrust again and again, matching the hungry rhythm of her hips. With each stroke, each masterful glide of his body, he heightened every delicious sensation racing through her.
Closing her eyes, she clung to him. She rode the maelstrom of pleasure, higher and higher. Her nails bit into his sweat-slicked skin. Her body flushed, her heels dug into the bed, and then the pleasure bloomed, sharp and fierce. She cried out, and a moment later, his cry followed, his body stiffening against her.
“I love you,” she whispered against his damp neck, while the spasms inside her slowly subsided. “I love you.”
He kissed her gently. “As I love you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Aislinn woke to morning light beyond her closed shutters. Smiling, she stretched languidly. Her body ached, but she didn’t regret a single reason for such discomfort. She rolled onto her back, her hand instinctively moving to the cool bedding beside her. Hugh might have gone, but his presence lingered in his scent on the sheets and in her memories of his lovemaking last evening. They’d explored each other, loved each other, long into the night. She only just remembered him pressing a kiss to her lips before he left her.
Sitting up, Aislinn pushed hair from her eyes to see that Gilly had left a plate of bread and cheese for her to break her fast. She rose, pulled on her robe, and padded to the window to open the shutters. Sunshine flooded in, and her smile widened, for she felt warm and light inside, her soul brimming with happiness—a feeling she hadn’t known for months.
She walked back to the bedside table to take the beautiful emerald out of its bag and admire it once again.
The bag was gone.
Frowning, she searched the floor. The bag wasn’t to be found.
The emerald couldn’t have been stolen, not with Hugh in her bed most of the night. He must have taken the emerald, but why hadn’t he told her he planned to do that? She must find him and ask him, once she was dressed.
As she nibbled on the bread and cheese, a soft rap sounded on the door. Hugh? She hurried to the door and opened it. Gilly stood outside, holding a large earthenware pitcher.
“Good morning, milady. I brought you fresh water to wash.” Humming a merry tune, she hurried into the chamber. “’Tis a lovely day.”
Aislinn shut the door. For some reason, Gilly glowed with happiness.
“Shall I help you dress, milady? Then I will summon servants to take away the bath.”
“Thank you. I would like the yellow gown today, I think.” Aislinn finished eating and washed, while Gilly took a clean chemise and a buttercup-yellow dress with embroidered gold flowers at the neck, cuffs, and hemline from the linen chest.
Setting aside the towel she’d used to dry her face, Aislinn asked, “Have you seen Hugh today?”
“I have.” The older woman’s eyes sparkled before she averted her gaze, shook creases out of the chemise, and helped Aislinn into it. “He and Philippa rode out of the castle gates earlier.”
A sickly feeling stirred within Aislinn. Had he returned to Hallingstow Castle? During the night, while they’d lain together, he’d mentioned needing to go home soon, but she hadn’t imagined he’d leave today without a single parting word. “They left?”
“Aye.”
“Did he say when he and Philippa would be back?”
“He did not.”
“Did he say where they were going?”
“Nay, milady.”
Aislinn swallowed the foul taste in her mouth. The sickly feeling spread, became an aching emptiness. ’Twas similar to what she’d experienced when Hugh had left her in Drandwick’s garden years ago. Surely, after the passion they’d shared last night, he hadn’t abandoned her once again?
Nay. She would not dwell on such thoug
hts. Still, she couldn’t dislodge the unease squeezing her innards like a fist.
Once dressed, she walked to the wooden stool and sat so Gilly could do her hair. With deft hands, the older woman combed and braided Aislinn’s tresses, humming while she worked.
“Gilly, have you seen a small leather bag? ’Twas on that side table yesterday. Now ’tis gone.”
The older woman stopped humming, and her hands stilled. “I did not see it today.”
Aislinn sighed. This morning was becoming more and more puzzling, for ’twas clear Gilly was keeping a secret.
“Do you vow, upon your honor, that you do not know where the bag is or where Hugh has gone?”
In silence, Gilly finished the braid. Then, facing Aislinn, she wagged a plump finger. “You cannot ask that of me.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” The older woman looked flustered. “I vowed, upon my honor, that I would not say a word.”
“Did you make such a vow to Hugh?”
Gilly’s brows cinched into a scowl. Her lips pressed together, she gathered up Aislinn’s damp towel and washcloth from yesterday.
Shaking her head, Aislinn quit the solar. Whatever was afoot, she’d keep herself busy, her mind distracted. However, as the morning wore on, ’twas impossible for her to focus on aught else.
At last, she strolled out to the garden with a basket and a pair of shears. Trimming the dead leaves and old stems from her rose bushes was at least moderately useful.
She hadn’t worked long when she heard footfalls. She glanced over her shoulder. Hugh approached, Philippa at his side. Both were grinning.
Her spirits soared to see him. His handsome smile… His beautiful mouth that had kissed her so thoroughly last night…
Aislinn smiled back. “I was wondering where you two had gone.”
“We rode to the village to see how the sheriff’s investigation was progressing,” Hugh said. “I was wondering if he had located the farmhouse where Philippa was held.”
“And?” Aislinn asked, curious herself about such news.
“Karr told the sheriff of the farm. ’Tis owned by his cousin. The sheriff and his men were going to search it today. Also, after a night in gaol, Riverwell has started talking.”
“Good,” Aislinn said.
“Father also bought something for you.” Philippa grinned behind her hand.
Hugh looked uneasy.
His hands went to the bag at his belt, and then the emerald gleamed in his grasp. Aislinn sighed with relief to see the precious jewel. Yet, it looked different.
Closing the last few steps between them, he pressed the emerald into her hands. “Look,” he murmured.
On the back of the stone, three words had been engraved:
Fortitudo
Fidelitas
Fortuna.
In the bright sunlight, the words seemed to glow. She blinked hard, the beauty of what he’d done so overwhelming, she couldn’t speak.
“Those words have come to mean a great deal to me,” he said softly. “I intend to honor them for the rest of my life: strength, in cherishing you each and every day; fidelity, in my true love for you; and luck, in that our life together will be filled with happiness.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Hugh.”
He slipped the gold chain around her neck, and the weight of the pendant again settled between her breasts. It felt as though it belonged there.
Hugh reached into his bag again and took out a plain gold ring. As she sucked in a shaky breath, he took her hand in his and slipped the ring onto her finger. “I love you, Aislinn.”
“Hugh—”
“I should have asked you years ago, but…will you marry me?”
A sob broke from her. To finally, finally have him forever… ’Twas her most heartfelt dream come true.
“I will.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, deeply, passionately.
More footsteps sounded, along with wheezed breaths. Aislinn drew her lips from Hugh’s to see Gilly hurrying across the garden. “Did she say aye?” Gilly asked. “Did she?”
Hugh chuckled. “She did.”
“Oh, I could kiss someone!” Gilly cried. She swept Philippa up in her arms and planted a noisy kiss on the girl’s flushed cheek. Philippa giggled.
Aislinn’s gaze returned to Hugh to find him studying her, his dark eyes warm with adoration.
“I love you, husband-to-be,” Aislinn whispered against his mouth.
He winked. “As I love you. I promise, my beautiful wife-to-be, I will never stop loving you. ’Tis a vow this knight will never, ever forget.”
Want to know more about Aislinn’s friend Magdalen? Read Catherine Kean’s One Knight in the Forest.
About Catherine Kean
Catherine Kean is an award-winning, Kindle Unlimited All-Star author of medieval romances. Her love of history began with visits to England during summer vacations, when her British father took her to crumbling medieval castles, dusty museums filled with fascinating artifacts, and historic churches. Her love of the awe-inspiring past stuck with her as she completed a B.A. (Double Major, First Class) in English and History. She completed a year-long Post Graduate course with Sotheby’s auctioneers in London, England, and worked for several years in Canada as an antiques and fine art appraiser.
After she moved to Florida, she started writing novels, her lifelong dream. She wrote her first medieval romance, A Knight’s Vengeance, while her baby daughter was napping. Catherine’s books were originally published in paperback and several were released in Czech, German, and Thai foreign editions. She has won numerous awards for her stories, including the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence. Her novels also finaled in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards, the National Readers’ Choice Awards, and the International Digital Awards.
When not working on her next book, Catherine enjoys cooking, baking, browsing antique shops, shopping with her daughter, and gardening. She lives in Central Florida with two spoiled rescue cats.
Connect with Catherine Kean
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Books by Catherine Kean
A Knight and His Rose (Novella)
A Knight to Remember (Novella)
A Knight’s Desire
A Legendary Love (Novella)
Bound by His Kiss (Novella)
Dance of Desire
Her Gallant Knight (Novella)
My Lady’s Treasure
One Knight in the Forest (Novella)
One Knight Under the Mistletoe (Novella)
One Knight’s Kiss (Novella)
That Knight by the Sea (Novella)
Knight’s Series Novels
A Knight’s Vengeance (Knight’s Series Book 1)
A Knight’s Reward (Knight’s Series Book 2)
A Knight’s Temptation (Knight’s Series Book 3)
A Knight’s Persuasion (Knight’s Series Book 4)
A Knight’s Seduction (Knight’s Series Book 5)
A Knight’s Redemption (Knight’s Series Book 6)
Boxed Sets
The Knight’s Series: Books 1-5
Table of Contents
A Knight to Remember
Dedication
Copyright Details
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About Catherine Kean
Connect with Catherine Kean
Books by Catherine Kean
Thank you for reading books on Archive.
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