Emerald Knight

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “I’m sorry. I guess my mother was right,” Ginevra said quietly when he refused to speak. Even as she said them, the words contradicted the pleasure sliding in her veins. “Noblewomen can’t please a man like a maidservant.”

  The words were so quiet that he almost didn’t hear them.

  Not please me, Wolfe thought in bewilderment. How can you not think I am pleased? Never have I been more so.

  With Ginevra, her response was so natural. There was no practiced coyness to her looks, no measured glances from her direct emerald gaze, no trained movement of her body’s response. Wolfe felt his heart squeeze painfully with an emotion he was ill equipped to discover in his half drunk, half remorseful state.

  “No wonder you sought out a servant.” The words were not accusing, only accepting. Ginevra took a step away from him. “Tell me, before tonight, were you with her again since we have been home. Were you with her today while we were parted?”

  “Nay Gin. I haven’t been with her since the night we wed,” Wolfe answered, seeing that he needed to ease her. She shook her head in understanding, automatically believing his word. It amazed him that she could be so trusting even after what she had witnessed.

  “Gin,” he whispered. “Naught happened betwixt Sarra and me. I thought I saw you and so I followed her up here. I know it sounds unbelievable, but you have to know. I didn’t seek her out. I was about to banish her from the roof when you saw us. I didn’t touch her.”

  “I just wish,” she faltered. Turning her tortured orbs heavenward, she sighed.

  His tunic brushed the tops of her thighs, tickling her skin with the soft fold of thick linen. Her hair floated about her shoulders. She took Wolfe’s breath away. Sadly, she tried again.

  “I wish that I made you feel the way I do,” she admitted, forcing herself to continue through her embarrassment. Her cheeks pinkened with a maidenly blush. Turning around to hide her features from his probing gaze, she said, “I wish I could give you half the pleasure you give me. I know I don’t, couldn’t possibly. But I can learn. If you would but teach me what you like.”

  Wolfe stood transfixed by her blushing admission.

  Turning back to him, she put forth, “I will take your mead baths. I will tie you up or let you bind me. I’ll do whatever you tell me to. Please, just give me a chance to please you. Did you think I couldn’t be taught? Or did you not want to bother? Is that why you didn’t want to try them with me?”

  “Gin,” he began. Pausing, he tried to go to her to comfort her. But his feet stubbornly refused to move. “You’re a lady--”

  “And one does not do such things with ladies,” she concluded before he could finish. “Even if the lady is most willing?”

  “Nay, it’s only because I respected you too much to--” he frowned when she interrupted again.

  “Respect me?” Ginevra sighed. Without thinking, she blurted, “Well that is something I suppose, for I love--”

  Her eyes grew round, their sparkling green depths staring at him in fright. Suddenly, she shook her head and backed away.

  “What did you say?” Wolfe demanded sharply. His heart tightened in disbelief.

  “Nothing,” she whispered. “I’m tired--I don’t--it just slipped.”

  “Then you don’t love me,” Wolfe concluded. His heart sank into the pit of his stomach. His knees weakened slightly, but he didn’t let it show.

  “I didn’t say that,” Ginevra shook in desperation. “I do, but I don’t want to talk about it. Forget I said aught...”

  Wolfe took a slow step forward, sobering completely at her words. A tentative pleasure started in his chest. His hand lifted as if to go to her.

  Ginevra took a step back with an insecure moan of embarrassment. Her words might have been on love, but her look was one of complete terror.

  “Nay, you can’t say such a thing and then leave,” Wolfe interjected to stop her retreat. “I demand that you tell me what you were going to say.”

  “It’s just,” Ginevra moaned again. But, seeing his piercing gaze, she couldn’t deny answering him. With a delicate lift of her fingers, she whispered feebly, “I think I am in love with you.”

  Her words were a hush, but he heard them as clearly as if she screamed them into his ear. A smile of pleasure curled on his lips. He took another step, closing the distance. His arms ached to hold her, to wipe the insecure light from her face.

  “And I know that you are drunk, m’lord. My only wish is that on the morrow you will have forgotten all of this. I wish you didn’t know and I curse myself for ever saying it,” Ginevra uttered, stopping his advance once more. “So go to your bed, m’lord. Go rest alone in your chamber. When sleep sobers your mind, hopefully this will all seem like a dream.”

  “Come with me,” he urged softly holding out his hand. A hesitant small smile alighted on his lips.

  “Nay, I can’t. I,” she paused and turned away. “I’m too embarrassed.”

  Rushing forward, she went to the stairwell. Instantly, Wolfe was behind her. He placed a hand on her upper arm and swung her around to face him. Seeing the tears lining her gaze, he pulled her into his chest. Stroking her hair, he ran his hand down her back.

  “Don’t say anything,” she whispered against his chest. “Don’t mention it. I couldn’t bear it if you did.”

  “Then come with me tonight,” he urged in a whisper.

  He didn’t give her a chance to refuse. Swinging her lightly into his arms, his hand pressed under her bare thighs. He felt her tremble as she ducked her head by his neck. Her arms wrapped around him, her fingers working desperately.

  Wolfe slowly carried her down the stairwell, stopping as they came to her bedchamber door. He respected her wishes and said nothing as he laid her down on the softness of her bed. He didn’t know what he would say if he were to speak.

  He made love to her slowly, worshiping her body with gentle kisses and tender caresses. As she slept, Wolfe stayed awake, watching her face as she nestled into him in sweet repose. His heart was heavy, unable to tell her how he felt for her.

  Robert had been right. He needed to leave her so she could learn her own mind. He didn’t want her bewitched by the passion of their bodies. He wanted her to be sure, as he was sure. The moment he turned to see her on the stairwell, he knew his own heart. He loved her. As dawn crept over the horizon, he left her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ginevra, Ginevra read the tightly scrawled form of her name, instantly recognizing the penmanship. Her heart leapt, automatically knowing Wolfe was gone before she even read a word. Jumping from the bed, she ignored the wrapped package he’d left underneath the parchment. She tugged the nearest gown she could find over her body. Not bothering to check her appearance, she tore down the stairwell, missive in hand.

  Skidding to a stop, her eyes found her brother and Helena at the head table. Helena looked proper and beautiful, though her face shone with gentle tears. Throwing back her shoulders, Ginevra hurried to the head table. Robert’s eyes found her at once. A frown marred his face as her eyes met his. Ginevra’s hand trembled. Without a word, she ran toward the courtyard.

  “Wolfe!” she shouted, never feeling Robert’s presence behind her.

  Ginevra tore down the stairs toward the gatehouse. Robert chased after her. Catching her before she made the inner gate, he grabbed her by the arm.

  “Gin, wait,” Robert asserted with quiet forcefulness.

  Ginevra froze. She didn’t turn to him. Softly, she asked, “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

  “Yea, early this morn,” Robert answered. “He left with the dawn. You won’t be able to see him.”

  “Where?” she inquired weakly. The pain inside her was unbearable. Her shoulders rose and fell with each deep breath. She refused to look at her brother as her eyes searched the small opening afforded her by the slatted gate. All she detected was the soft rolling of grasses that stretched for miles.

  “King Richard bid Wolfe to join him.” Robert took her gently by t
he elbow. She didn’t protest as he led her back to the stairwell. Lifting his hand, he pulled her hair from the inside back of her tunic gown so that it fell over her back. It swept over her shoulders in a mass of tangled curls.

  “When is he coming back?” she asked faintly. Her eyes were wide with trepidation.

  “Gin, he leaves to campaign for the Holy Land soon. They prepare for it even now.” Robert tried to hide his frown.

  Ginevra looked at him. A numb feeling unfurled in her chest, taking over her limbs. “So far away?”

  It wasn’t really a question. Robert didn’t answer.

  “You knew this day was coming. We have talked of it since we were children. Now that Richard is king, we will finally go.” Robert’s voice grew strong, sure in their cause.

  “Why didn’t he tell me?” Ginevra forced her brother to stop. Her expression was haunted. “Did he say aught to you? Was he angered with me? Was he displeased?”

  Robert couldn’t meet the desperation in her gaze. Guilt, as powerful as he had ever known, swept through him. He could feel the torture pouring over him as his sister looked at him with her trusting eyes.

  “He had to leave was all,” Robert finally returned when he could take no more of his guilt. “I’m sure he’s very pleased with you.”

  “But did he say that?” Ginevra persisted. “Did he say aught?”

  Robert watched her expression carefully. Only then did he know the true extent of his sister’s heart. He had spoken with Wolfe before he left. His friend’s eyes held the same tortured light in them that reflected from Ginevra’s. That morn, he knew duty was the only thing keeping Wolfe from staying home. Lord Wolfram, future Earl of Whetshire, wouldn’t dishonor his family by casting aside his duties.

  Robert cursed himself bitterly. One word from him, releasing Wolfe from his promise, would have given the couple more time together. Mayhap his friend’s feelings were pure. Mayhap he would’ve found happiness with Ginevra. But now it was too late. Wolfe was off to war and many things could happen in the fierce battle ahead. It could be years until King Richard released them to come back home. Until that time, they would fight.

  “Nay,” Robert shook his head. Swallowing over the lump in his throat, he said, “But I’ll be leaving to join him if you wish to send him a missive.”

  Ginevra nodded weakly. An accumulation of embarrassment, rage and fear threatened her sanity. Stiffing her shoulders, she let Robert lead her into the main hall. Once inside, Helena rushed forward to Ginevra. Ginevra eyed the woman wearily and then her brother in turn.

  “Is aught--” Helena began, seeing Ginevra’s face. She swallowed visibly.

  “Helena,” Robert turned to his wife. Giving her a tender smile, he inquired, “Can you take Gin back to her chamber?”

  “Nay, Rob, I’m fine,” Ginevra broke in with a mild, distracted frown. Without force she walked away. Robert let her arm go so that it fell listlessly to her side. Watching his sister’s stiff back, he nodded to his wife to follow her.

  Helena took up Ginevra’s arm. The wide emerald gaze filled with tears as she led the noblewoman up the steps. Suddenly, Ginevra paused by Wolfe’s bedchamber. Helena tried to urge her to continue. Ginevra softly touched the door but didn’t go in.

  “Leave me,” she told Helena. Her tone was sharp but neither woman noticed.

  “Gin, I don’t think,” Helena’s words faltered. Seeing the stricken light to her sister-by-marriage’s eyes, she nodded. Helena turned, only to stop. “He did tell you he was going, didn’t he?”

  Ginevra’s saddened gaze was her only answer. She glanced helplessly at the unopened missive clutched in her fingers.

  “I’m sure he meant to tell you,” Helena began.

  Ginevra’s scowl deepened in disbelief. She gave a small snort.

  “Oh, well,” Helena tried to think of a way to defend her brother, but she couldn’t. Rubbing her temple, she pushed her heavy red locks back from her face. If her husband left her without a word, she too would be angry and hurt. Thankfully, she knew Robert would never do such a thing. He already told her he was leaving to join her brothers at war.

  Taking a deep breath, Helena reached out a hand to lie on Ginevra’s arm. The woman’s eyes turned from Wolfe’s door to her. Softly, Helena inquired, “What happened? Wolfe seemed upset this morn when he came to get Robert. Did you quarrel with him?”

  “I told him I love him,” Ginevra whispered painfully. She would never know why she admitted it to the woman. Helena was the last person she ever imagined talking so intimately to. But something in the soft brown depths of her eyes drew the words from her, “and he left me.”

  Ginevra’s eyes dulled even more as she thought of it. Wolfe had spoken to his sister but not her? Turning, she made her way up the stairwell, leaving her sister-by-marriage to watch speechlessly from behind.

  Ginevra,

  King Richard bids me to join him on a crusade to reclaim the Holy Land. There is much to prepare if we are to meet with success. I know not how long we will be gone. One can only pray victory will come swiftly and with little loss. I wish that I didn’t have to leave you thus, but it can’t be helped. Robert will join us soon. I promise to look after him with my life, knowing how dear your brother is to you as he is to me. Please, keep this gift I leave you. It’s old and has been in the family for a long time. Don’t regret aught that is betwixt us. I did sober, but I couldn’t forget your words. I carry them with me, Wolfe.

  Ginevra nodded into the empty chamber. The letter was polite, but said nothing of his feelings for her. Abandonment was hard enough to bear, without the added pain of not having some tender sentiment to carry in her heart in the time to come. Her lips trembled, but she refused to cry. Picking up the parcel, she pulled the ribbon off the material. She tossed the ribbon aside and shakily drew a deep breath. The glittering necklace of diamonds that William had delivered to her on the morning after her wedding fell onto her lap. Wolfe had given it back to her. Suddenly, grief overwhelmed her. Crushing the gift to her heart, she fell against her pillow and wept.

  Robert left the following morn to join Wolfe. Behind him, he led an army of Whetshire knights. Ginevra watched the first line of men file out on horseback, carrying with them satchels, swords and a melee of other weaponry. Behind the first wave walked the lesser knights on foot, marching solemnly after the horses. Two carts soon followed behind the men.

  Watching out over the land from the battlements, Ginevra stared at the bold banner of Whetshire in silence until it faded into the horizon. She pressed her hands into the cold stone, needing to feel something solid beneath her. Her head felt as if it spun out of control.

  “It’s hard to imagine how far they will go,” Helena whispered softly from her side, “over sea and land.”

  Ginevra jolted, having forgotten the woman was there. Hoarsely, she answered, “It might as well be past the edge of the Earth, for I think it must be close to it.”

  Helena nodded. They stood in silence, as the army grew smaller and finally faded completely. Turning with a sigh, Helena looked about the barren keep.

  “Today must be the hardest day of my life. I think I can’t endure it.” Helena took a deep breath.

  “It’s a woman’s lot to wait for a man. I was born waiting for Wolfe. Wait to marry him, wait for him to claim me, wait ... wait.” Ginevra’s eyes never strayed from the distance.

  Helena couldn’t answer. Both she and Robert had seen the bitterness that came over Ginevra in the course of the day. Robert had been surprised by Ginevra’s admission of love to her. He questioned her endlessly about it until finally, Helena could say no more. Changing the subject the best she could, Helena said, “Your mother is ready to leave for Southaven, but I don’t want to go. I can’t stand to be there without Robert.”

  “You love my brother, don’t you,” Ginevra stated. Her eyes held a bit of pity in them.

  “Yea, I suppose about as much as you love mine.” Helena hesitantly threaded her arm through Gin
evra’s. Ginevra didn’t stiffen away. “I was always so jealous of you. You had Robert’s affections and I wanted them desperately. My own brothers never looked out for me the way Robert did you. You were always so free spirited. I was too afraid of dirtying the hem of my gown and you would run barefoot over the countryside without care.”

  Ginevra laughed. “Jealous of me? I don’t believe it. If anything, Robert’s attentions spoiled me. It made me long for more than a woman should have.”

  “Yea, I was jealous,” Helena defended with a giggle. “I thought even my own mother loved you more. After you came here, she seemed so much livelier. You two always had something brewing. When she was dying, she called for you--not me. I’m sorry I was so hard on you. Can you forgive me?”

  “It’s done, think no more on it. As to your mother, she spoke of you often. She was very proud of you.” Ginevra laid her head briefly on Helena’s shoulder. Glancing back, she sighed, seeing nothing but countryside. Then, walking Helena down the turret stairwell, she said, “I was mean to you, too. I think we are even. So let us start anew, as friends.”

  “I should like that,” Helena smiled. Her eyes shone with a kindhearted softness. Ginevra wondered why she had never seen it in the woman before. She had focused on the memory of a spoiled child for so long that she hadn’t seen the gentle woman Helena had become.

  “And I should like if you stayed here with me,” Ginevra put forth. A smile came to her face.

  “Really,” Helena gasped, “you wouldn’t mind?”

  “I insist.” Ginevra found she meant it. “William will be leaving soon to join the armies. He is talking to the earl even now. And your father is never home for long. I have no idea where he goes, but go he does.”

  “What about your mother?” Helena questioned.

  “Let me take care of her,” Ginevra said. “I’ll pretend to be sick. It will give her something to worry over. I swear she is only happy, if she is unhappy.”