Winter of Solace (The Executioner Knights Book 5)

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “What is that?”

  “Richmond,” she said. “Will you tell me about your life there? I could see pride when you spoke of it. Where is it?”

  “It is north of here,” he said. “Richmond is a big town, much bigger than Whitchurch and Richmond Castle is larger than anything you’ve ever seen. Winterhold is impressive, to be sure, but the sheer size of Richmond dwarfs it.”

  Her eyes widened. “Truly?” she said. “It is that big?”

  He nodded. “It is,” he said. “My hall is enormous and there is a massive tower as well, and many kinds of buildings and apartments. You must remember that Richmond has changed hands many times over the years, and it seems that everyone who owns it adds something new.”

  “Oh?” she said. “Why does it not simply belong to one family?”

  He shrugged. “It is large and strategic,” he said. “It has belonged to the Crown and to various nobles over the years. It is a very popular place.”

  “But why?”

  “When you see it, you’ll know. One of the reasons is because legend says that Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon, sleeps in the caves beneath the castle, waiting to be awakened to serve once again.”

  She eyed him, a smile of disbelief on her lips. “Is that true?”

  He grinned, putting his enormous arm around her shoulders and pulling her just a little closer. “It is possible,” he said. “There are many tunnels and caves beneath the castle, in the cliffs overlooking the River Swale.”

  “But Arthur?”

  “Anything is possible.”

  His dark eyes twinkled and she giggled, shaking her head at him as he leaned forward and kissed her sweetly on the cheek. It was the first real kiss between them, in a crowded common room of all places, and her smile vanished in an instant. Her hand flew to the spot he kissed, her cheeks suddenly flushed. His smile grew.

  “What’s amiss?” he asked. “Did I break something on your face?”

  After a moment’s surprise, she smiled. “Nay,” she said. “I was just thinking… it is the second time you have kissed me, but the first time on my face.”

  “It will not be the last, I promise.”

  “Do it again.”

  Now, it was his turn to be surprised. “Here?”

  She nodded. “Please.”

  He didn’t hesitate. Leaning forward, he captured her lips in his, a sweet, warm, and thoroughly titillating kiss that had Emelisse audibly gasping. When she went to grab his face, to hold him against her, they both heard a voice next to the table.

  “Excuse me, my lord.” The innkeeper had returned. “I’ve brought your drink.”

  Caius wasn’t at all pleased to see the man, but on the other hand, perhaps it was for the best. Even that short taste of Emelisse had lit him up like a lightning storm and he was beginning to lose himself. He sat back in his chair, his arm still around her, as the innkeeper set a tray down in front of them that contained more than drink.

  Emelisse gasped with delight as she looked over the tray. The man had brought a pitcher of wine for Caius, but for her, he’d brought delicacies. He explained to her the soft oatcakes with raisins and nuts, chunks of bread with cinnamon and honey, and cider that had been boiled with spices like cinnamon and cloves.

  In all, it was an absolute delight and Emelisse down the cakes and bread, sharing them with Caius, and sipped happily on her cider. It was hot and delicious, and they sat together and ate, speaking more about Richmond Castle and the land around it. Caius spoke of the land he’d purchased from the Crown east of Scarborough, which had a primitive castle on it. He intended to rebuild and fortify the castle, which had been around since the time of the Duke of Normandy.

  In speaking of it, he viewed it as a possession and nothing more. Nothing like the love of the land that Emelisse had once spoken to him about. She had tried to explain to him her love for Hawkstone, for the castle as well as the lands, but that was something he could not seem to relate to. Even as he spoke of the land and castle he owned, named Pickering, there was no love for it as his home.

  She wondered if he would ever feel for their home, Hawkstone in particular, as she did.

  In fact, Emelisse learned quite a bit about her new husband in that short conversation in the crowded, smoky common room. She was coming to see a man who, when he wasn’t being a serious and duty-bound knight, was humorous and animated at times. He flashed that adorable grin quite often, mostly at his own cleverness. Those few short minutes of conversation were the most normal moments they had ever spent together even though they were surrounded by strangers. There was no blood, no death, and no Covington to ruin their moods.

  Just them, learning about one another.

  Caius, too, learned something about his new wife in those few brief moments. She was very interested in places outside of Hawkstone and Winterhold, as he found out, because she had never traveled anywhere. Other locations fascinated her, and she spoke of stories she had heard about lands across the sea. Evidently, she had been afraid to voice such things to her father, because Rupert felt that one should be satisfied with what he or she had. It seemed that his daughter was a bit of a dreamer, but those dreams had been quashed in the battle between Hawkstone and Winterhold.

  Caius hoped he would be able to nurture those dreams.

  When her cider was nearly gone and all of the food was eaten, a serving wench came to summon them. Collecting their possessions, they followed the woman up a narrow stairwell to the second floor of the establishment. She took them to the chamber at the corner of the building, overlooking both the church and the intersection of the main road. It had an elevated alcove next to a window overlooking the street that contained a table, two chairs, with all manner of steaming food sitting upon the tabletop.

  Emelisse looked at the room with awe as she stepped in. Since she was the first one into the chamber after the wench, Caius had to squeeze around her to get into the room as she stood there, dumbfounded at the size of the chamber. It was big, warm, and very well-appointed for an inn in a small village. Caius set his saddlebags down and began unstrapping his broadsword, grinning at her as she still stood by the door and gaped.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked. “Have you never seen a chamber before?”

  When she realized she was standing there like a fool, Emelisse smiled sheepishly and headed in his direction. “It’s quite large,” she said. “And the bed…”

  She trailed off and he looked over to see her cheeks were flushing. That bed was where they intended to do their marital duty and she was too embarrassed to speak of it, which had him fighting off laughter.

  “It looks warm and comfortable,” he said, looking at the bed with its heavy curtains and embroidered coverlet. “We shall be quite cozy.”

  Emelisse merely nodded, setting her satchel down next to his saddlebags, as the wench finished stirring up what had become a roaring blaze in the hearth.

  “Would m’lady like a bath?” she asked.

  Before Emelisse could answer, Caius spoke up.

  “She would,” he said. “Bring her a bath and all of the accoutrements, but bring it in about an hour. We will eat now.”

  Emelisse didn’t argue with him. He was a man accustomed to giving orders, so she let him. She had a feeling this was going to be her life from now on, with a man who was used to being in command, but it didn’t bother her. Her father and brother had been the same way. She liked that Caius thought enough of her to do it, but she also knew that she was quite capable of asserting herself when necessary.

  She had a feeling he would be more than willing to submit.

  Fighting off a smile at the future battle of wills of Lord and Lady d’Avignon, Emelisse removed the gloves Lady de Wrenville had loaned her, and the cloak, and placed them on a stool. Meanwhile, Caius already had his sword off and placed it near the bed, and had pulled off the Richmond tunic he wore – though it was usual for knights to wear the standards of those they served, Richmond had its own special standard an
d Caius wore the red and blue colors proudly.

  After the tunic and sword, Caius nearly bent himself in half and shimmied off the mail coat. It slid off and he lay it on the floor, removing another padded tunic underneath it until he was stripped down to a thin under tunic, breeches, and boots. As Emelisse watched, he went over to the table, sat down, and began pouring the wine.

  Emelisse made her way to the table, pulling out a chair to sit down. Caius glanced up, looked at her, and an expression of horror crossed his face.

  “Forgive me,” he said, quickly standing up and helping her with her chair. “I should have waited until you… Christ, this is going to take some getting used to. I’ve never had a wife before. I will try to be more considerate.”

  She laughed softly as she sat down. “And I’ve never had a husband before,” she said. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

  Caius put wine in front of her but remembered what she’d said about wine, so he went to the door and summoned a wench to bring them more cider. With the door shut and bolted, he returned to the table where Emelisse was putting butter on her bread. He sat down, looking over the food.

  There was a big, iron pot with chicken stew in it, lots of fresh bread and butter, and stewed apples with cloves. In spite of having eaten meatballs when they arrived, and bread down in the common room, they cleared the entire table of the stew and bread and apples. True to his word, Caius stuffed Emelisse until she could eat no more, and as she wallowed in gluttonous misery, he cleaned up every last scrap. When that was all finished, he looked at her from across the table.

  Now that the meal was over, it came down to the very reason they were in this chamber.

  They had both known this minute would come, perhaps him more than her. The food, the conversation, had all been leading up to the inevitable and he could see the anxious look in her eyes because she knew there would be no more delays.

  The time had come.

  He cleared his throat softly.

  “I wish we had all the time in the world to consummate this marriage, but it must be done before we leave here,” he said. “We must ensure that de Wrenville can never dispute the union. You do understand, don’t you?”

  She nodded quickly. “I do,” she said. “We must do what husbands and wives have done throughout history.”

  “That is true.”

  “I do have a question, though.”

  “What is that?”

  “Do you know how to do this?”

  He had been in the process of draining the last wine from his cup, and suddenly, he was coughing it out all over the place. Do you know how to do this? Was she really so naïve that she thought he never had? He coughed his last, wiping at his mouth, eyeing the woman as he figured out how, exactly, to tell her that he knew everything about it. He’d done it, or had it done to him, so he was well-versed on the art of lovemaking.

  Odd how he didn’t really want to boast about it.

  “I do,” he said simply.

  Emelisse looked as if she were trying to be quite rational, even clinical, about the whole thing. “Then someone has told you how?”

  Caius wasn’t entirely sure how to explain it to. Surely she couldn’t believe he was so – inexperienced? Him? He was almost insulted by the mere idea, as if it were a slight to his manhood. It was almost laughable.

  “Emelisse,” he said patiently. “Someone has, indeed, told me how. In fact, someone has shown me how. I have done this more than once.”

  She looked at him as his words settled before lowering her gaze. She ended up looking at her lap.

  “I see,” she said quietly. “I suppose it is foolish of me to think that a man your age… what I mean so say is that a man as handsome as you are would have surely had… forgive me. I am rambling on. Shall we move to the bed, then?”

  She seemed… hurt. Caius watched her, thinking he could do one of two things – he could ignore her behavior or he could talk to her about it. He’d never been one to discuss feelings, as he’d told her, but somehow, he just couldn’t let it go. He didn’t want her to feel badly, about anything that had to do with him or their marriage.

  He didn’t want her to think badly about him.

  “Not yet,” he said, reaching across the table and collecting her hand. “And you were not rambling on, sweetheart. Clearly, you had expectations about this moment in your life, so I do not want you to feel badly or hurt about anything.”

  She wouldn’t look at him. “I am not hurt.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  She shook her head. “You are a seasoned, virile man,” she said. “Of course you would not have remained celibate for the moment when you married. And you did not know you were going to marry me, nor I you, so this conversation is foolish.”

  “It is not,” he said. “I am a man of honesty and this is an honest conversation, so let us explore it. I realize that it is a strange society that expects women to remain pure, but that same expectation is not placed on men. And you are correct; I am seasoned. I have seen forty-three years this past summer, meaning I have been to many places and known many people in my lifetime. I’ve known many women, too, but given that I was unmarried and had no marital contract, I would say that there would be something wrong with me had I not shown any interest towards women in all that time. Wouldn’t you?”

  She nodded reluctantly. “Aye, I would say so.”

  “Then do not be surprised nor hurt that I have known women before you,” he said. “Before you ask, I have bedded women before you. I will not lie to you about it. But I have never had a wife before, and once you became my wife, you shall be the last, and only, woman I shall ever bed. I swear upon my oath that you shall be the only woman I ever touch for the rest of my life.”

  She looked at him, a timid smile on her lips at his sweet declaration. “I never asked that you should swear your loyalty to me.”

  “I know you did not ask,” he said. “But the moment I married you, my loyalty became yours. I know some men do not treat marriage that way, but I swore I always would. It is a bond I will not break and I promise it will be you, and only you, until I die.”

  Her smile turned genuine. “Thank you,” she said softly. “And I shall swear the same. Only you, until I die.”

  He grinned at her, lifting her hand to his lips. “Thank you.”

  With that, he pulled her out of the chair and took her hand, leading her to the fanciful bed. Pulling back the curtains, he also began to throw back the bedclothes. Emelisse saw what he was doing and went around to the other side of the bed, pulling back the other side to reveal a surprisingly clean mattress. There were two fluffy pillows which, she discovered, were stuffed with feathers.

  Caius begin to remove his clothing and because he was, Emelisse began to remove hers as well. The traveling dress was designed to be easily worn, so it was simply a matter of untying the ribbons that trussed up the bodice. She fumbled with them, finally managing to loosen them up enough so that she could slide the dress down her body. It landed in a puddle of woolen fabric at her feet and she picked it up, carefully laying it over the end of the bed.

  Now, she was left in the heavy woolen shift that Lady de Wrenville had loaned her with a lighter shift underneath. She wiggled out of the heavier shift and laid it out with the traveling dress, leaving her clad only in the thin linen shift. She was so involved in removing her clothing that she failed to realize that Caius was already nude and under the coverlet.

  When the mattress gave way as she was laying the heavy shift on the end of the bed, she looked up to see him lying in the bed on his side, head propped up on his hand and the coverlet pulled up to his waist. Startled, she found herself staring at that magnificent form of a man with arms as big around as her waist. It was enough to set her heart racing. But the first thing she saw was that vicious viper tattoo on his right bicep.

  She pointed to it.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  He had been looking at her with a smile on his
face, rather alluringly, but was forced to stop looking at her as he followed her pointing finger. Realizing she meant his tattoo, he rolled onto his back so she could see it better.

  “The mark of The Britannia Viper,” he said.

  “The moniker the savages in The Levant gave you?”

  He nodded, inspecting the gorgeously detailed engraving. “They did indeed call me that,” he said. “But they are not savages. They were some of the most intelligent, cultured people I have ever met. In fact, they put this stigmata on my arm. They considered it an honor to do so.”

  She cocked her head. “Your enemy put that on your arm?”

  He lay back on the pillow, tucking a big arm in behind his head as he watched her. “Understand that they were not all my enemy,” he said. “There is a brotherhood with men who have fought against each other, and that brotherhood is built on mutual respect. The men who put this on my arm were Muslim, but our respect for one another was great. They were part of the spy assemblage that I was part of, and we greatly admired one another.”

  Emelisse leaned forward, inspecting what she could see of the tattoo. “It is truly beautiful,” she said. “Whoever drew it is a great artist. I have never seen anything like it.”

  He grunted. “And you never will again,” he said. “Christians consider marking the body like this to be a great sin, but to me… it was a great honor because it was put there by men considered my enemy. You can touch it, you know. It will not bite you.”

  Considering the image was of a snake with large fangs, she laughed softly. She was also still in her thin shift, standing there awkwardly. Caius finally crooked a finger at her, beckoning her into the bed.

  “Come to me, Lady d’Avignon.”

  The way he said it, a purring deep voice, made her respond without thought. She was in the bed and up against him before she realized it as he pulled the coverlet over them both.

  The discovery began.

  Caius didn’t wait. He leaned forward, gently kissing her forehead, her cheeks, until finally descending on her tender lips. His reaction to her was the same as it had been in the common room. The moment he tasted her mouth, he felt as if he’d been struck by lightning. Perhaps he had kissed other women before, but it hadn’t felt like this.