Heat of the Knight

by Jackie Ivie

  “More than we can count in this lifetime.”

  “Why?”

  “Commodities and exchange.”

  “What?” Lisle wrinkled her nose.

  “Commodities are things people want and I offer. Exchange is what they get for spending their gold for my commodity. Simple. Complex.”

  “Are you—we…also slavers?”

  “You believed that?”

  “You’re a good actor, Langston.”

  “Thank God. I was beginning to think myself pathetic at it.”

  “Why so?”

  “All these tales you have of my—our home.”

  “So…are we?”

  Langston sighed. She rose and fell with it. “Solomon tried it once. It wasn’t worth the gold. There are easier ways. He sold the ship. ’Tis a shame, actually.”

  “Your partner is nae longer a slaver, and that’s a shame?”

  “He always treated the cargo humanely. That isn’t always the case. It rarely is.”

  “Then put a stop to it.”

  “Me? How?”

  “Use your gold. Buy a stop to it.”

  “I have nae power to do such. You can’t change the world.”

  “Aha!” The word was accompanied by lifting her head sharply. She wanted to see his face as he heard it. Unfortunately, her movement made the room swim again, her belly rumble warningly, and she put her head back down almost as swiftly as she’d lifted it.

  His chuckle sounded even stranger that his voice had. Lisle listened to it.

  “A man can only change a portion of it, Lisle love.”

  “You can also…die.”

  “I know. That’s why I had a dower house built.”

  “A dower house?”

  “For a dowager. That’s what you’d be. In the event of my death, that is. You wondered where all the furniture went, dinna’ you? At least, that’s what I ken you were thinking when we first reached the dining room the other night. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  He chuckled again. “Tell me I’m wrong, and make it believable.”

  “That wasn’t what you said. You think you ken everything about me, Langston Monteith?”

  “You’re very easy to read, love. It isn’t your fault. ’Tis those clear, sky-blue eyes, and the way you grasp and feel this life of ours. You almost have me feeling it, too. That’s what makes you so special to me.”

  “You doona’ know anything about me.”

  He sighed long and deeply. “Very well. You wish to argue? Carry on. I do ken one thing, though.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “It was a very good idea to take this honeymoon trip. Very.”

  “In the midst of all your planning and intriguing and work, you leave? There must be a reason, and I knew right away what it was.”

  “Really?” Langston asked.

  “You wanted me out of the castle. You’re moving things. Changing things. I’m too observant. I might find out, and then what? The captain might be able to guess my knowledge from my face? I never even spoke to the man.”

  That got her another large sigh. “I know. All eve he looked at me closer than he’s ever looked at me before because of it.”

  “What? Why? I did naught!”

  “You do so much. You just doonna’ see it. The scarf was a dreadful idea, too. I lost my mind. I was jealous. I can’t afford such emotion. Not now. That is why you’re with me, love. That…and I’d be incredibly lonely otherwise. This is a honeymoon, you ken?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Lisle’s version of hell lasted four days, although she lost track of time after the second day, and definitely after the second night. The only constant was Langston. He was always there, wiping at her face, assisting her to and from the privy closet, helping her take the sweat-soaked nightgowns off, and putting clean ones on, although he did that with a black look to his eyes and a set line to his jaw. His were the hands sponging off her body and forcing broth down her throat, when he knew it wouldn’t stay.

  On the fifth day, she opened her eyes to a room filled with waning sunlight, a snoring Monteith, who was sleeping on his belly and taking up way too much of the bed, and not a ripple of movement happening anywhere to tilt her belly and make it decide to destroy her again.

  Lisle slid to the side of the bed, walked over to a window, and pressed her face against the glass, fully expecting to see the city of Paris, or a port of some kind, and totally mystified that there was nothing but water and two ships to look at. She crossed the cabin to the other side and did the exact same thing, although she had to push the draperies aside in order to see. Water. There was nothing but smooth-looking water, and the other three ships.

  There wasn’t any sign of land anywhere. She went back to the bed, got back up on the mattress, and started shoving at the sleeping male that was behind all her agony.

  “Langston?”

  His snore interrupted midbreath, and then she got an eye opened to regard her. “Aye?” he asked.

  “We’re na’ moving.”

  His lips tipped. “You woke me to tell me that?”

  “And ’tis eve.”

  That got her a groan of a reply. There didn’t seem to be any words to it.

  “And nae man should be sleeping away the day.”

  “A man exhausted by taking care of his wife would be. Why, such a man has to get his sleep when he can.”

  “Good,” she replied.

  “Good?” he asked, lifting his head to look at her.

  “Aye. ’Tis your own fault, remember?”

  That had him turning on his side toward her, showing that he wasn’t wearing much, and the covers weren’t keeping that tale to themselves as they followed him to the extent they could. Lisle was holding down a portion of them, and that was making the material twist about him. She forced herself not to look.

  “Seems to me we were at a decided dispute over that particular phrasing when last we were discussing it, but I could be wrong.”

  “You still wish to argue with me?” she asked.

  “Argue? Nae. Negotiate? Definitely.”

  “What are you negotiating with?”

  “The ship.”

  Lisle stared. “You’d give me your ship?”

  “I doona’ need to gift you with it, Lisle. ’Tis already yours. I vowed as much in my wedding words. At least, I recall saying as much. Since I was na’ paying attention to much at the time, I could have vowed to anything. Enlighten me.”

  “You twist words.”

  That got her a smile. “True. That’s one of the things I do. I happen to be very good at it.”

  “What are the others?”

  “Other what?”

  “Things that you do?”

  “Oh.”

  He sat, the covers slid to his belly, and Lisle had to force herself not to look. She could tell it wasn’t working as her face heated up, and telling herself she was being ridiculous didn’t help.

  “I twist all kinds of other things as well.”

  “You wish me to note the way you’ve twisted the covers now?” she asked. Her face was flaming.

  “Are you?”

  At that question he rolled completely onto his back, making the traitorous coverlet cling to every hidden portion of that frame, and then he was raising a thigh to keep her guessing at the rest.

  “I’m actually starved,” she replied.

  “Is it near eight?” he asked.

  “How am I to tell?”

  “They ring bells. On the hour. What was the last one you heard?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Twelve,” she replied.

  He blew the sigh, lifting hair that only thought to curtain any part of his forehead. “I believe it’s nearer eight. That’s good.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I ordered certain things to happen at eight.”

  “What certain things?”

  “What are you willing to give to find out?” he asked and fold
ed his arms.

  Lisle regarded him. Then, she smiled. “Na’ much,” she admitted finally.

  “Why na’?”

  “Because whatever you have ordered will happen at eight, whether I ken what it is or na’. My guess is, it’s fairly near eight. I will na’ have much time with which to puzzle it out. Why would I give anything for that?”

  “What would it take to get that nightgown from you?”

  Lisle’s eyes went wide. “You’re na’ serious.”

  “Of course I’m serious. Does it look like I’m na’ serious?”

  Lisle put a hand to the little ribbon tie at her throat. “But…why?”

  “Because I’m on my honeymoon, and doing my damnedest to pretend it’s been everything I dreamed it would be.”

  “You did that?”

  “Are you na’ grateful?”

  “Where are we, Langston?”

  “In my bed, that’s in my cabin, aboard the Adventurer, although to be truthful, you’re on the bed, na’ in it.”

  “I mean, where are we?”

  “Oh. On the ocean. The North Sea.”

  “I mean, where are we?”

  “You want exact locations? Na’ possible, love. I did a bit of navigating while I was out and about as a lad. There’s nae such thing as exact out here.”

  “Langston.”

  “What? You wish to hear of my navigating? Very well. I did a bit with a sextant, learned to follow the stars, look for the winds, follow charts, that sort of thing.”

  “That’s na’ what I meant.”

  “Well, I had to do something when I was sailing. ’Tis a long voyage to Persia. Bores an enterprising lad who has to learn everything he can in the smallest amount of time possible.”

  “Why?”

  “Why was I a lad? Why did I have to learn everything quickly? Why was I bored? Which one?”

  “I have to admit it, Langston. You are very good at this word twisting you do.”

  That got her a wide grin. Then he sobered. “You’re a quick student. I like that. What did you wish to know, again?”

  “Why are we na’ moving?”

  “Are you willing to part with that nightgown for the information?”

  “I will part with the ribbon tie,” she replied.

  He looked away, as if considering that. Lisle watched him do it. Then he looked back at her and held out his hand.

  “You’re jesting,” she said.

  His eyebrows rose, but the hand stayed where it was, although he waved with his fingers.

  Lisle pulled the bow apart and tugged on one end until the entire blue ribbon came out. Since it wasn’t holding her nightgown close to her throat any more, the neckline gapped to her shoulders as it opened.

  The look on his face was unreadable. Lisle wound the ribbon about her fingers into a little swirl of it, and placed it on his palm, which closed immediately. Then he was pulling his crazed mane of hair into a queue and tying it with her ribbon. Everything was moving and rippling on him while he did so. Lisle ordered her eyes not to watch. They weren’t obeying. When he was finished, he folded his arms again, and answered her. “We’re na’ moving because I ordered it so.”

  “Now wait a moment. That’s na’ an answer.”

  “’Tis exactly what you asked and paid to know.”

  “That’s unfair.”

  “Negotiations are na’ fair, Lisle. They never were. They’re meant to find a compromise. Do you ken what that is?”

  She shook her head.

  “’Tis a deal that both sides can agree to abide by. Nae one wins, nae one loses. Both sides have less than they wanted, but more than they started with.”

  “Teach me how.” She sat, cross-legged, pulled her nightgown over her toes, and watched the corresponding shift as it dropped off her shoulders and met the resistance of her increasing bosom. She watched him look there.

  “Oh. You have the skills already, love.”

  “I do?”

  He licked his lips to wet them, slid his glance to the shadow she was making between her breasts, and then back to her face. “Aye,” he answered finally.

  “Good.”

  “A negotiation can only take place if both sides want something the other side has. Take us, for instance.”

  “What about us?”

  “You want information. I want you. More specifically, I want you naked. Warm. Willing. In my bed. Passionate. Christ. I have to stop while I’m ahead.”

  He had both legs bowed at the knees now and was running his hands over the covered tops of his thighs. Lisle watched him.

  “Why?”

  “Why must I stop? Why do I want you? Naked? Willing? Why should we negotiate? What?”

  “Why are we na’ moving?”

  His lips twisted, but he didn’t smile. He regarded her solemnly until his eyes lightened again. “You’re a very stubborn woman, Lisle Monteith.”

  “So I’ve been told. Why, please? I paid, and I want to know.”

  “You paid for information. You got it.”

  “I could have figured that out for myself!”

  “What more do you wish to know, then?”

  “Why did you order the ships to stop moving?”

  “Oh. What are you willing to pay for that information?”

  Lisle moved her elbows, making her breasts brush against each other and create an indentation in the front of her nightgown. She watched him look there. She slid her toes from beneath the fabric to impart more softness to it, more cling. She watched the reaction as he trembled, although he had it under control almost immediately. He didn’t have the same control over his breathing, for his lips opened slightly to allow the increase in it.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Well…what?”

  “Why did you order the ships to stop moving?”

  “Oh. My wife is a terrible sailor.”

  “You stopped six ships for that?”

  Langston lifted a finger and wagged it back and forth. Lisle narrowed her eyes.

  “You want to know what more I’m willing to part with for that information?”

  He nodded.

  “That depends. What am I wearing?”

  He thought about that. “That nightgown. A chemise thing. Drawers. Stocking…long stockings. Midthigh.”

  “You put all that on me?”

  “I had to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because someone had to.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Your maids were na’ up to that sort of movement at present.”

  “They suffer the mal de mer, too?”

  He nodded.

  “There’s more, is there na’?”

  “You are a very quick learner, wife.”

  “What is it, now?”

  “I also put that much clothing on my wife because I dinna’ trust myself without it.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “Is it?”

  “You’re na’ a very nice man, Langston Monteith.”

  “When did you ever think otherwise?”

  “While I’ve been sick? You tended me, and…you—you—?”

  “The word is lusted, love,” he said softly.

  “You lusted for me?”

  He nodded.

  “Nae,” she replied.

  “I have the utmost regard for you and that amazing body of yours, Lisle Monteith. I love you. I lust for you. Jealousy hit me right between the eyes when I saw you in that ballgown the other night, with Barton. I admit it. Freely. You ken? I lust for you. I probably will always lust for you. ’Tis a bane I dinna’ ask for, let me assure you, but I doona’ fight it. I canna’. ’Tis against human creation. Pay up.” He put his hand out.

  “Why? I dinna’ ask anything.”

  “You’ve been asking and receiving and na’ making a hint of a payment on the whole. That is most against protocol. Most.”

  “’Tis your own fault, again. You’ve been the one answering and giving and na’ making any of
it a condition,” she answered with a lift to her chin.

  He was grinning then. “Very good,” he said.

  “Why would you stop six ships in the midst of the North Sea, when you should be in France, or wherever we’re going, and there’s nae time to do all of that and return to Monteith Castle a-fore Butcher Willie arrives, since you doona’ think I ken that much about this trip?”

  He whistled softly, and Lisle felt the flare of pleasure all the way from her toes, over her shoulders, and centered right where she didn’t need it, at her nipples, making them taut against the fabric and itch where it touched. She watched Langston look there, and then he gulped.

  “Your query has too many parts,” he answered finally.

  “Truly? What are they?”

  “That, in itself, is another query. Pay up.”

  “What is it you wish?”

  “You have a chemise beneath that.”

  “You just said I did.”

  “Hand over the nightgown then.”

  “Will I get an answer to all my questions?”

  “Why did I order the ships to stop? Where are we really going, and is it to France? Why dinna’ I think you would know about this trip coinciding with Cumberland’s visit? Does it coincide with Cumberland’s visit? Aye. All of that.”

  “You’re too easy, my love,” Lisle answered.

  His eyes flew wide, opening them to their warm ale color, and he was definitely flushing all over that massive chest, and then up into his cheeks. Lisle watched it, and felt like giggling. Then she just did it.

  He cleared his throat. “How so?” he finally asked.

  “You gave me an answer and I dinna’ even have to pay.”

  “What answer was that?”

  “The one about the parts of my query. You just listed them. I wonder what else I can get you to confess to, if I just let a little bit of this slide right here.” Lisle tipped an arm, and assisted the nightgown to move a bit down to her elbow. She was wearing a chemise all right, but it hadn’t a strap to hold up the thing, and it wasn’t doing its job very well.

  She looked down at herself and then over at Langston. He hadn’t moved.

  “You chose this?” she asked.

  He tipped his head, and then smiled. “It was the first thing I grabbed.”

  “Right.”

  “You saying I lie?”