“I fear his condition is beyond my skills,” she said softly. “I would feel more comfortable if a reputable surgeon examined him. He very well may have re-injured himself attempting to defend me.”
Niclas heard her. “I will ride to Grange-over-Sands,” he said, already moving for the door. “It is a large town. Surely there will be a surgeon of reputation to examine him. I will bring him back as soon as I am able.”
Both Braxton and Gray looked at him, varied degrees of surprise in their expressions.
“This is not your trouble,” Braxton told him. “I believe you were going to leave, anyway.”
Gray put her hand on Braxton in preparation for defending Niclas’s actions, but the knight beat her to it.
“This entire folly with d’Uberville is my fault,” he said. “As an honorable man, I would right my wrong. I know that you do not believe me to be the honorable type, my lord, but I would consider it a privilege to prove you wrong.”
Under normal circumstances, Braxton would have rejected the request. But Niclas was trying to make amends and Gray’s hand on his arm told him that he should allow such an attempt. If the man left and never returned, it was of little consequence other than Geoff would have to wait longer to be examined by a surgeon. But if the man did as he said he would, then it was a statement of his word. It would aid in restitution for his earlier behavior. As Braxton was preparing to reply, the tent flap moved and Dallas entered the tent.
The knight was in full battle armor, broadsword in hand and smaller weapons slung and secured about his body. His visor was up, his pale blue eyes scrutinizing the tent and its occupants. At the sight of de Aughton, he was inclined to raise his sword and go on the offensive, but he could see that no one in the tent seemed particularly upset. Puzzled, he nonetheless remained in a defensive posture.
“Is everything well, my lord?” he asked in an authoritative voice that Gray had never heard from him before. “I was told there were sounds of trouble here.”
Braxton’s eyes were on Niclas. “No trouble,” he said. “De Aughton was just leaving.”
Dallas moved away from the tent flap, his armored body between Geoff, Gray and Braxton. He watched de Aughton with the expression of one sighting prey. “Then leave, de Aughton,” he said to the big black knight.
Niclas put up his hands to show he was no threat. “I shall, as soon as my horse and possessions are returned to me,” he said, glancing at Braxton. “I can hardly walk to Grange-on-Sands, my lord.”
Braxton nodded at Dallas, who had focused on him for an affirmation. “Give him back his property,” he said. “He is riding for a surgeon for Geoff.”
Dallas instantly dropped his sword and quit the tent. They could hear him shouting orders outside, rousing the men and having Niclas’s property brought forth. Listening to the shouts outside, Niclas’s gaze lingered on Braxton a moment. It seemed that he wanted to say something more but ultimately held his tongue.
“I shall take my leave, my lord,” he dipped his head. Then his gaze moved to Gray. “My lady, I shall return as soon as I can.”
With that, the big black knight left the tent. Braxton and Gray stood there a moment as if still trying to absorb the events of the morning. After a small eternity of digesting their shock, they finally turned to each other. Blue-green fixed on amber and Braxton stroked his wife’s cheek. She smiled weakly in return.
“Are you really all right?” he asked softly.
She nodded, winding her arms around him just to draw strength from his embrace. “I am fine, truly,” she sighed as his arms tightened around her. “But it was rather frightening.”
“No doubt,” he murmured. “Will you be all right if I leave you a moment?”
“Of course. I am not a weakling.”
He laughed softly. “God’s Bones, you are most certainly not. I must speak with Dallas a moment.”
Dallas was standing outside, several feet away, with Brooke standing beside him. They were both watching something in the distance. As Braxton marched up on them, he noticed that they were watching Graehm issue de Aughton his possessions and horse. Brooke, her fair young face anxious, fixed on Braxton.
“Is my mother all right?” she demanded. “What happened?”
Braxton held up a hand. “She is well enough.”
“But what happened?”
“Sir Niclas paid us a visit, Lady Aston. Now he is riding for a surgeon for Sir Geoff”
Brooke’s pretty face darkened with confusion, with concern. “But… but a soldier told us he heard suspicious sounds coming from your tent and then Dallas dressed in his armor and ran over there with his sword and… are you sure my mother is all right?”
“Go and see for yourself.”
She did, without hesitation. As she bolted into the distant tent that contained her mother, Braxton turned to Dallas.
“What took you so long to come?” he asked quietly. “Gray was in peril for several moments until I diffused the situation. Where were you?”
Dallas shook his head. “In my tent, with Brooke. We are far enough away that I did not hear anything until a soldier came to me and said he had heard strange sounds coming from your tent. I wasn’t sure the strange sounds he heard were indicative of trouble, if you understand my meaning, so I took my time to investigate. But when I approached your tent and heard a strange voice, I suspected the worst and made haste to retrieve my armor and weapon.”
Braxton nodded, satisfied. “As I would have more than likely followed the same path of logic.”
“Your wife is uninjured?”
“Just frightened. And speaking of wives, have you carried out your obligation yet?”
Dallas wriggled his eyebrows. “I was preparing to broach the subject when I was interrupted by the soldier.”
“Then resume your plans. I will keep her mother away from your tent for the time being.”
Dallas sighed heavily. “Nothing like the screams of a child to incite the mother.”
“Exactly.”
They broke from their stance and walked back to the larger tent. As they were preparing to enter, Norman and Edgar exited, moving quickly out of the way. Braxton grabbed Norman by the arm, forcing the lad to stop so he could take a good look at his face. Dallas peered at the swollen nose over Braxton’s shoulder.
“You took a good hit,” Braxton said to the young man. “Is it broken?”
Norman’s eyes were already becoming dark-ringed as his nose swelled. “Lady de Nerra already looked at it and says she does not believe so.”
Dallas lifted his eyebrows, looking at Braxton. “Young Norman went on the offensive against de Aughton?”
“Indeed.”
“Most impressive.”
Dallas slapped the boy lightly on the head and continued past him, into the tent. Braxton lingered with the boy a moment longer, inspecting his face as if suddenly seeing something more mature in the youth. The lad was sixteen or seventeen years, after all. He was becoming a man. He let go of his arm with a satisfied nod.
“Most impressive indeed,” he said. “Norman, you and I will speak later on your training. Perhaps it is time you moved past the duties of a squire. Perhaps it is time for you to learn to serve as a warrior.”
Norman watched Braxton disappear into the tent. There was a somewhat dazed expression on his face. A few feet away, Edgar was struggling to light a cooking fire, scowling at his brother. He thought he had been rather brave, too, although he hadn’t gotten bloodied for his efforts.
“Maybe next time I’ll get an arm cut off,” Edgar sniffed. “Then Sir Braxton will appreciate my valor, too.”
Norman pursed his lips at his brother; leave it to Edgar to ruin a proud moment. “Don’t be such an idiot,” he said.
Edgar just made a face at him as he continued to try and light the stubborn fire. Norman watched for a minute or so before shoving his brother aside, adjusting the kindling, and lighting the blaze on the first try. Edgar’s spirits sank lower.
“Show off!�
� he yelled.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Both Gray and Brooke were bent over Geoff when their husbands arrived. Geoff was starting to cough up blood, never a good sign, and Gray was struggling to figure out where the bleeding was coming from. Braxton and Dallas watched with mounting concern as Geoff continued to spit up bright red blood. Braxton finally knelt beside his wife, his gaze fixed on his knight.
“De Aughton should be back before noon, Geoff,” he said quietly. “Lady de Nerra will do all she can until then. You must hold on.”
Geoff was conscious and miserable. He nodded his head, his eyes closed. “I would not want to despoil her efforts, my lord.”
Gray passed a sidelong glance at Braxton, letting him know that she was very concerned for the young knight. Brooke was mostly hovering aimlessly, not knowing what to do but wanting to help her mother just the same. When Geoff coughed up more blood and splattered it on her arm, she nearly had heart failure. Having never been exposed to battle or blood on a serious level, she was unused to the reality of gore.
But she made a brave attempt to wipe it off of Geoff’s mouth, mostly smearing red streaks down his chin. Then she wiped furiously at the blood on her arm, feeling nauseous at the sight. Above her concern for the knight, Gray noticed her daughter’s pale pallor.
“Dallas,” she said softly. “Would you mind taking Brooke to finish packing? Braxton would like to be on the road to Erith before noon and I am sure my daughter has yet to make preparation.”
It was just an excuse to remove Brooke from the tent but Dallas took it. He was deeply concerned for his friend’s health but reckoned there was nothing he could do about it. Moreover, he still had a directive from Braxton that he had yet to fulfill. If ever there was a time to complete his objective and make Brooke his wife in every sense of the word, the time was now while everyone was distracted. He grasped his young wife by the arm and gently escorted her from the tent.
The day was beginning to warm outside. The grass was cool, the trees green, and nary a cloud in the sky now that the morning mist had burned away. Dallas silently led Brooke over to their tent, holding back the flap as she went inside. He followed her and secured the ties that held closed the flap.
Reluctantly, he eyed her as she went straight for the pile of clothes on the ground that she had created when she had to dig through her satchel for something on the bottom. She began to wad up her meager possessions and shove them back inside. He moved up behind her.
“We shall make a shopping trip into town in the next few days to acquire more material for you,” he said quietly.
She looked up at him. “What for?”
“For clothing. I would like my wife to be well dressed.”
She looked down at what she was wearing; it was a surcoat made from a wool tartan fabric that Braxton had brought them. She had three new surcoats; she’d never had three new of anything in her entire life.
“But I already have this,” she told Dallas. “Do I need more clothing?”
The corners of his mouth twitched with a smile as he crouched beside her. “Wouldn’t you like some?”
She was gazing at him quite openly, her innocence obvious. “I do not know. I already have some new dresses that my mother made me. I am not sure I need more. She told me I was being selfish and petty, after all. If I have more new clothing, she will think I badgered you into it.”
He did laugh, then. “She will know the truth when I tell her I insisted.” His smile faded as he gazed into her big blue eyes. “As I said, I should like my lovely wife to be well dressed. It is a direct reflection on my ability to provide for you as a husband.”
She flushed around the ears at his compliment. Then she shrugged weakly. “If you think it is the right thing to do.”
“I do.”
She didn’t have anything more to say to that. Cheeks still warm, she returned to her packing as Dallas stood up and began removing pieces of armor. She could hear him setting the pieces down carefully. But she was focused on shoving the last of her possessions into her satchel and he startled her when he suddenly sat heavily on the bedroll next to her.
“Brooke?”
She looked at him, her fingers pausing as she tied up her bag. “Aye?”
For the first time since she had known him, Dallas looked uncomfortable. He sighed heavily, reaching out to take one of the hands that were lingering on the bag. He stared at her hand a moment and Brooke’s heart thumped loudly against her ribs at the warmth of his touch. Since last night, the sight or sound of him made her heart do strange things. His touch only increased the effect.
“I have debated how to deal with this situation and I have considered keeping it from you and simply doing as I see best,” he began. “But I feel strongly that if this marriage is to have any chance of surviving, we must be honest with one another. Do you agree?”
Brooke gazed at him. “I… I suppose so.”
“Good,” he said, wondering if he should, indeed, be open with her. She was so very young. “You are aware that you and I were married for a reason, correct?”
She nodded slowly. “Aye.”
“And that reason was to not only provide you with a suitable husband, but to prevent your grandmother from awarding you to the highest bidder. Are you with me so far?”
She nodded again, curiously, and he continued. “Even though we are married, this union will not be truly binding until we consummate it. I should have done it last night but I felt strongly that it was not the right time. However, with our party returning to Castle Erith, I cannot delay. We already know that de Clare is at Erith at your grandmother’s invitation. We must make sure that our marriage is secure.”
By this time, she was looking at him fearfully. “Then we… we must…”
He nodded faintly, looking into her wide blue eyes. “Aye, we must. And I swear to you that I will be as gentle as possible. But it must be done.”
Brooke blinked, averting her gaze as she thought about what was to come. She was naturally frightened, but she was also naturally curious. Last night, she had slept next to Dallas and had felt such comfort and security as she had never known. She was coming to feel comfortable with him as much as their short marriage would allow, but he was still a stranger. Hesitantly, she met his gaze again.
“My mother has explained to me the way of men and women,” she said quietly. “And I have seen animals couple. We had a dog once that had a litter of puppies twice a year. Every time I saw her, she was being mounted by another dog. But as for people coupling….”
He smiled at her innocence; he couldn’t help it. “It is different than dogs.”
She saw his grin and thought he was laughing at her. “I know that,” she snapped softly, immediately cooling when she realized that he was not mocking her. Dallas didn’t seem the type. “But… but I have never even had a suitor and the first time a man kissed me was last night when you did. I do not know what to do. What if I do the wrong thing? You will be sorry that you married me.”
His smile grew; fortunately, he had not taken offense to her snappish reply. “I would never be sorry, Brooke. And you cannot possibly do the wrong thing. Just listen to what I tell you and I promise you will gain some enjoyment from it.”
She regarded him carefully. “You have done this before.”
He cleared his throat and averted his gaze a moment, shifting his seat. “I have.”
“With whom?”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “It does not matter. Suffice it to say that I believe I can navigate my way through this.”
She cocked her head. “But why is it expected that I am a virgin and acceptable that you are not?”
His gaze was steady on her. “Because one of us must know something or both of us will be making fools of ourselves. Therefore, in preparation of this moment, I have had to learn so that I can teach you.”
She cast him a long glance, suggesting that she thought his answer was ridiculous. Then she actually laughed. “You are good
at thinking of answers that make sense. But I know it is a preposterous answer you give me.”
“Why?”
“Because it is,” she insisted. “I want to know why I must remain pure, yet you did not have the courtesy to remain pure for me. Well?”
She was a spitfire, spoiled and selfish, but she was also intelligent and quite pretty. He reached out and grasped her face gently with one hand.
“If it is any consolation to you, no one has marked my heart,” he said quietly, watching her fire cool. “That, my lady, I have indeed saved for my wife. For you.”
Her fire banked completely and she took on the wide-eyed innocent look again. “How do you know?”
“How do I know what?”
“That you will give me your heart?”
He wriggled his eyebrows and dropped his hand. But he was smiling. “I do not, for certain. But I can hope.”
Brooke simply nodded. There wasn’t much more to say on the subject. Now the reality of what they must do began to weigh heavily on her and her cheeks began to grow warm again. She kept her head down, looking at her bag. Without another word, Dallas reached over and put a hand on her neck, pulling her to him. He very gently kissed her cheek.
“Trust me, Brooke,” he murmured against her flesh. “I promise I will be gentle.”
She had no choice but to comply, her eyes closing as he kissed her cheek again. His mouth moved across her face, to her chin, before finally claiming her lips.
It was as he had remembered it the night before; she was sweet and warm and soft. Although he was performing a duty, it quickly became a genuine want. He knew he must go slowly with her, but he found that the feel and smell of her ignited a flame deep within him. Before he realized it, both arms were around her slender body and he was pulling her onto the pallet beside him.
Brooke’s heart was thumping so loudly that she was positive he could hear it. His mouth was warm and gentle, his touch strong and tender. Having never experienced an embrace of any kind, the newness was disorienting. But the disorientation quickly evaporated in favor of giddy warmth that bloomed deep in her belly. When his mouth clamped down over hers, the warmth grew in size and breadth and spread through her torso. Hesitantly, her arms went around his neck. It was all the encouragement Dallas needed to pull her fiercely against him.
Noble Line of de Nerra Complete Set: A Medieval Romance Bundle Page 73