“My afternoon was splendid, thank you for asking. Would you care to know the details?”
I shook my head. “A gentleman keeps such matters to himself.”
“And pray tell me, Ranulf, what do you think of the good lady Margaret?” he asked.
“Sabeline’s cousin?”
“The fair-haired beauty, yes. Do you find her appealing?” Benedict asked.
“I have come to learn that the women in Wales are astoundingly beautiful,” I remarked, wondering where this conversation was leading.
“I am glad to hear it. Does she appeal well enough to you that you would consider approaching her father to ask for her hand in marriage?”
“Why do you insist on marrying me off to any woman who crosses my path?” I asked, urging my horse to a gallop. I was anxious to arrive where it was warm and, even more, to end this dialogue.
“I ask only because, unlike me, you live by a code of honor and propriety that offers you no alternative to the pleasures of the flesh, unless bound by marriage.”
“Let me ease your mind, young lord. I am no virgin. I have had my share of women, make no mistake. It is the sacredness of the marriage bed wherein you and I differ, friend.”
“Ah, then it is well to have your fun while single, but once betrothed the shackles of propriety bind you to no one but to your bride.”
“You speak as if honor in the marriage bed is something ancient and without merit.”
“By no means, sir. If you are fortunate to have both passion and marriage, then so much the better. I have not personally experienced marriage, but I am a loyal student of passion.”
My silence confirmed that I agreed.
“Has there ever been anyone special for you, Ranulf?” he asked.
I rode on, refusing to answer him.
“She must have been extraordinary,” he remarked.
“She was,” I stated simply, “and I prefer to leave it in the past.”
“I understand.”
I glanced at him as we headed over the drawbridge to the inner ward. I did not understand the meaning of these questions, but I resigned myself to the fact that he and Sabeline were to be married. Once the ceremony was over, I would be free to get on with my life.
Benedict leaned over and took hold of my reins, halting me as we passed between the great stone bastions to the keep.
“You do not believe that she will be happy with me, do you, Ranulf?”
I studied him, weighing my words carefully. “I believe that it takes more than a man’s skills in bed to maintain a happy marriage.”
“And you feel I lack in these other areas?” he prodded.
“It is your reputation that precedes you, Benedict.”
“And does the good lady Sabeline know of this alleged reputation?” he asked, narrowing his hardened gaze on mine. I would have challenged him instantly would it not stir up greater harm. Instead, I answered him plainly.
“If you imply that I have presented you with ill will, you are mistaken. Whatever the good Sabeline thinks of you is based on other information, not mine. Know this, however, if you bring dishonor to yourself, I will not defend you.”
“So much for loyalty, eh, Ranulf? Forever clinging to your weary code of honor.”
I rode on in silence, knowing that if I responded to his insolent jabs, the skirmish would end with the blade. The man would never be a true knight.
“I suppose your honor is all that a man like you has. I cannot fault you for that, Ranulf,” he called as I rode on ahead.
I had no cause to respond, but for the sake of my pride, I turned in my saddle and felt the harsh pull of my muscles, stiffened by the cold. “I cannot be something I am not, Benedict. Some things a man is born with, others he must acquire. While it is true that my title is not by fortune of lineage, it has been found honorable by our king. It is to him that I answer only, not you. You make your own choices and hence decide the outcome of your future.”
As I anticipated, he offered a short laugh.
It was painful. With each day that passed, I was forced to watch as Sabeline tried unsuccessfully to capture Benedict’s interest. I found myself growing more restless and more agitated. Yet my duty was clear. I was the king’s emissary and nothing more. I had to remind myself that it was not my place to warn her of the character of the man she was about to marry Moreover, I could not trust that my intent would be pure if I took it upon myself to do so.
“More wine, milord?”
One of the kitchen servants placed the pitcher on the table. Her eyes were clear blue, the color of a peaceful summer sky. I held out my cup to her. “I have not seen you before today,” I said, enjoying the faint rush of color to her cheeks.
“I have just arrived to court, milord.” She smiled as she filled my goblet. A lovely thing she was, with light brown hair and a pleasing shape. I was under the influence of too much wine, I was certain, for her smile reminded me of Sabeline’s.
“Come here,” I whispered, coaxing her to my side with a crook of my finger. “Do you see that man? The dark, handsome lad two seats down?”
“Lord Benedict?” she whispered, her eyes darting a look at him.
“Yes, shh now, come close, let me whisper in your ear.”
She bent so that my lips skimmed the soft flesh of her ear. Her skin smelled of fresh-baked bread. “Be wise of him. Do not be seduced by his charm, for he is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Do you understand my meaning?”
She turned her face slightly to mine and I found it all too tempting to satisfy my loneliness with a quick taste of her mouth. She gave me a curious look.
“I believe I do, milord,” she answered, glancing at Benedict, who was absorbed in his conversation with the baron. Sabeline, seated between us, focused on her plate. I sensed the wheels of her mind turning with yet another plot to gain Benedict’s attention.
“Splendid. You will heed my words, then?” I whispered to the woman.
“Yes, milord, I will do as you ask,” she replied as she stepped away and lifted Sabeline’s goblet to fill it.
I could not take my eyes from the woman as she moved from table to table. Now and again, she would glance up at me and smile.
“Are you well this eve, milord?”
Sabeline’s voice gently nudged me from my thoughts. I had managed thus far to keep my mind and body at a comfortable distance from her, having discovered that, when too close, my body reacted with less-than-honorable intent. “Tired from the journey. Nothing more, I assure you.” I did not look at her directly, but I sensed that she studied me.
“You are not much for conversation, milord, I thought perhaps that I—”
I dropped my roasted chicken to my plate and dipped my fingers in the cleansing bowl. “You are mistaken, good lady. I could not be in better spirits.” I stood before she had the chance to say anything more. I did not wish to embark on the small talk of how she spent her day with Benedict or how I spent the day riding through the cold winter wind thinking only of returning to her. “If you will pardon me.” I garnered the attention of the servant girl.
“Certainly, milord, I do not wish to detain you.” Her reply was curt and I suspected she was frustrated with her inability to capture Benedict’s attention.
The servant woman found her way back to my side, as Sabeline looked on. “Milady,” I offered, choosing to let Sabeline think what she wanted. It was less complicated that way.
“You are leaving us, Ranulf?” Benedict spoke, watching me as he reached for Sabeline’s hand and placed a lingering kiss on her palm.
I foolishly clamped my arm around the woman’s waist. “I bid you good evening, Baron Durwain, Benedict, Sabeline.” Once out of view in the corridor, I released the woman and cleared my throat as I mulled over how to tell her that I did not wish her company this evening.
I dug in my pocket and finding a coin, handed it to her. “I ask only that you wait a short period of time before you return to the hall. Say nothing if anyone asks what happened betwixt yo
u and me.”
“But nothing has happened, milord, though I am willing if you are.”
She undid the top lacing of her chemise. I swallowed hard considering whether a night of raw passionate sex would rid my mind of these incessant thoughts of Sabeline. “I am honored, truly, but I would not be good company tonight.” Without further discussion, I stuffed the coin in her hand, hurried down the corridor and out into the still, dark night.
I aimlessly walked the castle grounds, glad for the bitter cold that numbed my senses. I scolded myself for the yearning thoughts that I had allowed to linger far too long inside of me. Sabeline had grown into a fine woman and it was evident by her actions that she desired Benedict, even if he was fool enough not to appreciate it. I had to find a way to reconcile these emotions steeped in the past. She was his, and that kiss long ago was motivated by nothing more than the impetuousness of youth. The sooner I resigned my needs for the sake of my duty, the better for us all.
I braced my hands on the wall overlooking the barren outer ward. Torches burned around the perimeter of the yard, casting strange shadows on the new-fallen snow. The sky was a vast dark blanket, sprinkled with stars. The moon shone brightly above, not quite full, reminding me that in a few days a wedding would be taking place.
I pounded my fist on the ledge, sending a spray of snow into the frigid air. I did not look forward to the day when I would bear witness to this event.
Unable to sleep, I tossed my tunic on, slipped into my breeches and headed toward the baron’s parlor, hoping his books would settle my mind enough to sleep.
“Milord, it is late.”
I lifted the torch I had taken from the wall outside my chamber door. Coming toward me was Sabeline’s cousin, Margaret. She offered me a bright smile as she tucked a loose blond curl behind her ear.
“I see you were unable to sleep, as well.” Her gaze dropped to my unlaced open shirt. “But what good fortune, for I wanted a moment to speak with you.”
“Of course, milady, how may I be of service?”
“You are truly a most noble man, Sir Ranulf.” Her eyes danced with keen interest. “Ready, it seems, to tend to the needs of others.”
I wondered at her motive for this late-night meeting. “Indeed, milady, what needs have you that I may address?”
She was a lovely woman, though, in my opinion, not possessing the charms of her younger cousin. It was clear that she was familiar in the art of seduction and in my present state I found her brazen behavior tempting, if not too convenient.
She backed against the wall and smiled demurely as she tucked her hands behind her back. My gaze dropped to the creamy white swells of exposed flesh in her low-cut gown.
Prompted by loneliness and drink, I leaned over her, brushing her breasts as I tucked the torch into its iron sconce. I rested my hand above her head and offered her a challenging gaze.
She smiled and laid her warm palm against my chest, then slowly trailed her fingers down to the top of my breeches.
“Tell me, are you betrothed, as well?” I whispered. In my drunken state, Sabeline’s face swam before my eyes.
“Nay, milord, but I am no innocent when it comes to the needs of a man.” Her hand slipped lower and she began to stroke my staff through the cloth.
“I can see you possess fascinating skills, milady.” I closed my eyes to the pure pleasure of a woman’s hand on me.
“I have no doubt that your skills are as splendid, milord.”
I looked down at her through hooded lids. True it was that I could satisfy the whims of this wicked little enchantress as well as my own. Sweet Sabeline. I opened my eyes, and the image of Sabeline dissipated as Margaret’s face materialized in front of me. I dropped my hand and stepped away from her caress.
“Sir Ranulf? Margaret?” Sabeline suddenly emerged from the dimly lit hallway, her gaze darting from one of us to the other. Though I had no cause to feel guilt at the surprised look on her face, I nonetheless turned away and took a deep breath before facing her.
“My pardon, milord. I did not mean to interrupt.” She lifted the hem of her skirts and turned to leave. The mere thought of her returning to Benedict caused me to blurt aloud “Wait, milady. Was there a matter which you needed to discuss?”
She slowed her step and looked over her shoulder. The glow of the torchlight sparkled in her gaze.
“I would only keep you a moment, if I might, milord. In private, if possible?” Her eyes darted to where Margaret waited in the shadows. “That is, if I am not interfering with my cousin’s plans.”
“Sir Ranulf and I were finished. Perhaps, though, we can continue later?” Margaret smiled at me and patted Sabeline’s shoulder as she disappeared down the corridor, her skirts swooshing along the stone floor. The sound faded in the distance, and Sabeline and I were left standing alone.
I swallowed hard and tried to clear my head of the lust-filled thoughts dancing in my brain.
“Perhaps we should step into the parlor, as it is a bit more private?” she offered, gesturing toward the door.
“As you wish, milady,” I responded. “After you.” I waited as she hurried by me. Mesmerized, I summoned every bit of nobility to surface as I took in the gentle sway of her hips. Her dark tresses hung loose, cascading over her shoulders, held back at the temples by two carved ivory combs.
I was grateful that she could not read my thoughts. How I wanted to pluck out those combs and run my fingers through her hair. How I wanted to find her tempting mouth and possess it entirely. How I wanted to loosen the laces at her back and allow my hand to slip beneath the fabric and cover her warm, pliant breast…
She turned without warning to face me and, lost in my thoughts, I ran into her. I grabbed her by the shoulders to prevent her from toppling backward and stepped away in haste. “My apologies.” I took another step back, distancing myself.
“You may leave.” Her eyes flashed with authority.
I offered her a frown. “I do not understand.”
Her gaze locked over my shoulder to a servant who had just brought in a load of wood for the fire. The young man left in haste, closing the door gently behind him. She walked over and latched the door.
“I want no one to overhear us, milord,” she stated as she returned to me.
I scanned the room, searching for a spot where I could distance myself and be attentive at the same time. There was not much in the room. A writing desk, a chair and a wall of shelves filled with a few books, gifts and tokens I presumed were from the baron’s travels abroad.
I leaned my hip on the table and glanced down at the thick pallet of sheepskin furs spread before the blazing fire. My thoughts immediately drifted to easing Sabeline to that rug and having my way with her.
I licked my lips and found my fingers tightly gripping the edge of the desk. I was glad that I wore my jerkin over my cambric shirt as it covered the arousal of her cousin’s teasing.
“What is it that I may do for you, milady?” I cleared my throat and shifted so that the fur rug was out of my field of vision. I watched her pace in front of me, lost in her thoughts and completely unaware of how I mentally undressed her, one piece of clothing at a time.
“Sir Ranulf?”
I blinked, brought back to the present by her voice. “My apologies, my mind is elsewhere.”
“That is precisely what I wish to speak with you about.”
Finding it perhaps more wise to sit than stand, I sat down and folded my hands atop the desk, glancing up at her as she continued to pace. “Please continue. I fear I do not understand.”
“It is you, Sir Ranulf,” she said, her gaze darting to mine. “You refuse to speak to me—nay, to acknowledge me at all. Lately, you run off after every meal.”
Were it Benedict seated in this chair, I would better understand these reprimands. “Milady, permit me to point out that it is not my attention which you seek?”
She gave me a shocked look. “Are you daft? This is entirely about appearances, milord.”
I raised my brows to challenge her statement. “Of course it is,” I muttered.
“I am finding it difficult to explain.” She chewed the tip of her thumbnail, lost in her thoughts.
“Forgive me, milady. I would like to help ease whatever troubles you, but how does this involve me?” I shrugged.
“Do you not see how your behavior affects me?” She slapped her hands on the table and pushed her face close to mine.
“My behavior? Nay, milady, I do not.” I drank in the curve of her cheek, the slight bow of her kissable mouth. Unable to help myself, my gaze traveled to the view offered as she leaned toward me. What sweet warmth I ventured lay in the valley between those breasts…damn.
“For this very reason, sir.” She searched my eyes. “I have noticed how you look at me. How you watch when you think no one else notices.”
“I am truly sorry if I have caused you discomfort.” I narrowed my gaze on hers.
“Were it me alone that noticed, it would not cause me discomfort, though I must confess I do not know whether your looks stem from pleasure or disdain.”
My eyes met hers. “Would it matter?” It was dangerous, I knew, to press her on such matters but the alcohol had loosened my tongue.
She straightened as if I had struck her. Fear and desire warred in her eyes. Did I truly want her to answer? I held my breath.
“This was a mistake, milord. My apologies for taking leave of your privacy.”
She turned to exit the room. I reached out and grabbed her hand, knocking the chair over as I stood. “I need to understand why you sought me out tonight.” I did not let her go as I came around the table to face her.
She started to speak, but stopped each time, as she did everything she could to avoid looking at me.
I took her chin between my fingers, holding her gaze firm on mine. It was wrong of me to insist she remember, too, the power of that kiss all those years ago. She was older now, her future clear, her purpose to be the wife of another man. Every reason I could think of to walk away lay before me, yet I could not remove my hand.
She looked up at me then, her soft amber-colored eyes filled with desire. I wanted to finish what we had begun those many years ago. I had to know that the torment was not all mine.
Winter’s Desire Page 6