Over the days since the trip to Glenmarket, Stephen had spent much time with Lord Grayson. Although the baron had not been completely welcoming at first, his attitude had thawed somewhat as the week progressed.
Stephen knew he had no need to put himself to such lengths with Lord Grayson, but anything was preferable to the possibility of running into Fellis. In the end, he had begun to almost enjoy his time with her father.
In his own element, that of running his lands and commanding his people, Lord Richard was more than competent. He was in fact a model overlord, strong but fair. The kind of man Stephen’s brother Henry was.
It seemed that only with his wife was the baron unable to exert himself. Though from the evidence of late, he was making an effort to do so.
At least as far as his daughter was concerned. It seemed as if he wished to somehow repay her for her sacrifice in agreeing to marry Wynn. Even though Lord Richard had not openly admitted that the wedding would take place, neither did he behave as if it would not.
Stephen raked a hand through his hair and wished he was far from here and the problems he’d encountered at Malvern. Yet as he thought this he knew it wasn’t true.
He could not imagine what his life would have been like not to know Fellis, to see her smile, to hold her pliant form in his arms.
His body tightened at the mere memory of the kiss they’d shared. He’d known from first seeing her in the glade that day that she was a woman of rare passion. It had been obvious in the lack of self-consciousness she displayed, her nakedness being a completely comfortable state to her.
The reality had been even more devastating than he’d imagined. Though he was certain that the kiss was her first, after only a brief hesitation she’d given of herself without restraint. She’d met his passion with her own, unashamedly.
God, but he wondered what it would be like to call such a woman his own. Would he be willing to give up his freedom and face his old fears to have her? That fear of losing the one you love.
He shook his head to clear it. He knew not whence the thought of love had come. He was drawn to Fellis, in fact captivated by her. But love? Nay, surely not that.
As was his custom of the past week, Stephen turned to go to Ebony’s stall. He had made a point of paying some attention to the mare each day. He felt as if contact with her was almost like being with Fellis.
To his surprise the stall was empty.
He went back to the front of the building, locating Thad where he was brushing down a stallion. He pointed toward the vacant cubicle. “Where has Ebony gone?”
Thad looked up at the knight with eyes that glowed with pride for his lady. “Lady Fellis is riding her. It is a true wonder how well she is doing. What with her only learning since you came.”
Stephen knew a flash of alarm. “She took no one with her?”
“Nay,” Thad replied as he continued to rub down the stallion. “She said she would do well enough alone.”
Stephen tried to appear unconcerned as he pushed at a pile of straw with his leather-shod foot. “How long has your lady been gone?”
Thad frowned. “Oh, these two hours or more.”
Stephen scowled. Two hours. He gave much care to making his tone sound casual even as he reached for his saddle, which sat nearby. “Methinks I will join her. ’Tis still early.”
He did not want Thad to see his concern for Fellis and misinterpret it for anything but what it was. The young woman was still very inexperienced a rider. He simply wished to be certain that no ill had befallen her.
For a brief moment he paused, wondering which direction she might have taken. Then inexplicably he knew that she had gone into the forest.
He was certain of it. He felt it was where she would go to find solitude.
Confidently he headed off in the direction of the wood. The same inexplicable power that drew him to her would help him to find her.
Even as he went, Stephen tried to convince himself that he was only worried that something had happened to her and that he had to be sure she was safe. Inside him a voice cried out that he was a liar.
Fellis had not been to the glade since Stephen came. It had not even entered her mind. It was as if Stephen, with his powerful presence, had made even the pull of her private place pall by comparison.
Unerringly she found the spot where the trees grew dense around the secluded place. There she tied Ebony to a sturdy limb and scrambled through the dense growth. The glade was as beautiful as ever. The moss hung as heavily from the trees, the breeze whispered delicately over her cheeks, and the water burbled as pleasantly as it spilled into the lily-dotted pond.
Yet everything seemed different. Today she felt no desire to pull off her clothing and dive naked into the gentle caress of the water. She found herself thinking of another caress, the velvet touch of Stephen’s hands. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the brush of his long fingers on her cheek.
With a groan of frustration she left, not looking back, nor knowing if she would ever return.
She remounted and rode back through the forest until she came to the river that wound its way around her father’s lands. Fellis knew that if she followed the river she would come to the town at the base of hill on which the castle stood. But Fellis had no desire to go into the town, no desire to meet anyone.
Especially not Stephen Clayburn.
With a sigh she dismounted and led Ebony to the river for a drink. She then tied the mare so that she might graze on the new grass that dotted the riverbank.
That done, Fellis sat down at the edge of the water. After a time she began to notice the warmth of the sun on her heavy veil and reached up to pull it from her head. When she did so the thick braid of her hair rolled down her back to lay against the cool green grass.
She sighed again listlessly, leaning her chin on her hand. Even here Fellis could find no peace from her troubles. Her possible marriage to Wynn, her difficulties with Mother, her confused feelings for Stephen, all weighed heavily upon her mind.
Fellis had no idea how long she sat there, before she became aware of a soft sound behind her. A sound like that of a jangling bridle. But before she could even look about her, a voice called out from much closer than she would have expected.
“Lady Fellis.”
She swung around with a soft gasp, knowing that deep voice from any other. Hurriedly Fellis gained her feet. “Sir Stephen.”
He was indeed closer than she would have thought. His nearness, coupled with her own hasty motion caused her to stumble.
Stephen reacted without thinking, reaching out to catch Fellis before she could fall. As he pulled the maiden safely into his arms, he knew again that same rush of desire and possession he felt every time he touched her.
He looked down at Fellis, unable to take his gaze from the clear blue depths of her own. God, but she was lovely, her hair caught in a thick braid that lay across the back of his arm in a silken caress. He longed to free the silvery mass and run his eager fingers through it, even as he wished to once again kiss those soft lips that parted on her own quickened breath.
But he knew he must control his response to Fellis. He had come to see that all was well with her. And that was what he would do.
He made himself address her formally. “My lady, are you all right?”
Fellis took a moment to reply, her gaze clouded with surprise and other emotions Stephen dared not name for his own sake. To allow himself to see that she responded to him as he did to her could lead only to ruin for them both.
He loosened his hold on her, willing himself to do what was right.
As if she too had no wish to prolong any contact between them, Fellis pulled away. “I am well, Sir Stephen. Pray why would I come to harm?”
Stephen watched her averted profile, feeling more frustrated and helpless than at any time in his life. He knew that her coldness was only an attempt to cover her hurt at what had happened at Glenmarket.
Jesu help him, Stephen could not find
it in him to blame her. His own hurt was near driving him mad.
If only there was some way to make Fellis understand that what they had done was wrong, so wrong that it must not happen again. No matter how badly he wanted it.
But how, when it felt so incredibly right?
She halted his chaotic thoughts by saying, “You need have no fear for me. I would not risk myself. I know how important it is for me to carry through with my duties, and will not disappoint you.”
Stephen was surprised at the resentment in her tone. He tried to suppress his growing agitation. “Is that really what you believe? That I would come to find you simply because I want to keep you safe for your marriage to the Welshman?”
She raised haughty brows. “That is exactly as I believe.”
Again he sensed resentment and wondered at the depth of it. Surely she could not blame him for what was happening. They had discussed her marriage and she seemed to understand that he had no choice in this matter. He was nothing more than the messenger of her fate. King Edward had decided the outcome.
He fought the desire to reach out to her. “Fellis, I wish there was aught I could do to make this easier for you. But I know not what it would be.”
He saw then that though she kept her head high and her face averted, her chin trembled. Seeing her pain was more difficult than he would have imagined.
And this time the knight could not hold back. He placed a gentle hand on her arm. “Fellis.”
She turned to him then, but still she refused to shed the tears that glistened in her lovely eyes. Her voice was barely audible as she spoke. “Wynn’s people will never accept me.”
He put his hand on her other arm and turned her to face him. “You must not think that way. Once they know you they can only…love you,” he said. “I can conceive of nothing else.”
She refused to meet his gaze. “But that day in Glenmarket. Those people who attacked you. Why would they do such a thing? They know you not.”
He realized then that he should have told her about having seen Owain at Wynn’s home, but there had been no opportunity. He’d been so busy trying to avoid Fellis for fear of a recurrence of what had happened between them that day that he’d unintentionally left her to fear this alone.
Quickly he explained, “Fellis, that man was no stranger to me. He was with Wynn the day we met. Do you remember what I told you about there being some resistance amongst his allies?” When she nodded, he said, “Owain was the very one who spoke out against me. He has no understanding of Wynn’s position and the responsibility he carries. The man is a rabble-rouser. If it had not been for him there would have been no trouble that day. You must trust Wynn to keep him under control. He will not let such as Owain mistreat you.” Stephen could not say aloud the next words that formed in his mind. That he personally would kill Owain himself if he acted against Fellis. The attack that day had been against him, and Owain had quickly backed down from striking her.
Oblivious to his thoughts, she looked up at him. “Why did you not tell me this before?” She bit her lip as a deep blush stole over her creamy cheeks and her gaze dropped to the ground.
Understanding that she knew the answer to that question, Stephen made no reply. They could not give voice to the truth of their attraction for each other. ’Twas impossible.
She glanced up at him again, appearing to forget her embarrassment in her need to speak her thoughts. “But, Stephen, there was a woman there with him. She was young and beautiful, with dark hair and eyes. I’m sure you saw her. I had seen her earlier in the day in the market and she was staring at us. It seemed as if she hated us, me. Why would she hate me? I have done her no ill.”
Stephen was not about to tell Fellis the girl who had looked at her with such hatred was Wynn’s doxy. It would serve no good purpose to anyone. He was sure that no harm would came to Fellis through her. Wynn was a man of honor and would not let his woman do aught to harm Fellis or his chances of making peace through a marriage to her. That much Stephen wanted to believe—had to believe.
The knight could only speak from his own heart. “My lady, you are beautiful. Too beautiful to concern yourself with the thoughts of any other woman. Many will look at you in your lifetime and know envy.”
Heavens above, Fellis thought. He’d said she was beautiful again. And the intense look in his eyes as he stared down into hers had given weight to the words.
She felt drawn into their dark depths, prodded for a response to his hungry gaze. And it came, all of its own accord. Her heart thudded with the deep beat of a war drum in her chest, leaving her sure he could hear it, too.
She’d told herself this would not happen again, that she would not allow herself to be drawn to him in this wild, provocative way.
She wanted to think clearly, to question him further. Fellis sensed that Stephen was holding something back when he spoke of the woman she had seen at Glenmarket.
But nothing else mattered when he looked at her that way.
He was so undeniably handsome with his dark hair and eyes, and when he leaned close to her this way she was unaware of anything but Stephen. It was impossible to think about right and wrong and what his intentions toward her were.
Fellis could only feel.
Her pulse raced in her veins as she felt herself falling, down, down into him, Stephen. The man who had come to awaken her from the years of near sleep.
She could see that he too felt what was happening, for his dark eyes became hooded and his gaze dropped to her lips. She raised her face to his, unable to do anything else in this moment out of time.
Then he found her and nothing existed but the two of them and their responses to each other. His mouth was warm and firm and sure on hers. This time she did not just follow his lead but opened her own mouth, urging him with her tongue to do the same.
When his hand found the back of her head, the other arm sliding down to encircle her waist in a band of tender steel, she moaned. A strange warmth built in her chest and traveled down, down to the depths of her stomach, causing a sweet sort of ache to grow there. Fellis melted like beeswax in the sun, pressing more tightly to him.
Now it was Stephen who groaned, his hips arching to hers and she felt the hardness of him against her belly. Felt it, and understood for the first time where these kisses might lead them.
Though she had little real knowledge of what went on betwixt a man and a woman, her vague imaginings were greatly solidified at the steely weight of him against her. Surely he must care for her to react this way to her nearness.
When his lips left hers to press heated kisses to her cheeks and the flutter of her lids, she whispered, “Oh, Stephen, Stephen, you do want me. And what have you done to me? For I want you, too.”
Stephen stilled, burying his face in the curve of her neck as he fought for breath and sanity. His heart pounded like a battle drum in his chest.
Indeed what had he done?
There was no excuse for his actions. He had known not to do this, had vowed time upon time not to touch her. Stephen felt as helpless in the face of his desire for her as he had been only a short week ago.
He did not release her but whispered desperately as he tried to make her understand that this was wrong. “Fellis, this should not have happened.” He felt her stiffen and try to draw back but refused to loosen his hold on her even though he knew he courted further disaster by holding her perfect form so closely to his.
She raised her hands to his chest, pushing against him. “Take your hands from me, sir.”
He released her and could only watch when she looked up at him with bitter betrayal. “Why do you play this game with me? Do you think I am some addled maid, too simple to be hurt by what you do. I tell you I am not. My twisted ankle has not affected my mind.”
Even as Stephen listened to the pain in her tone, he knew he could not help her. To even admit how he felt about her was to invite further hurt to her. If she knew how strongly his feelings ran, she might think they could con
tinue on this reckless course of passion.
And that they could not do. Stephen was more certain of that than anything in his life.
They were each bound to do their own duty, his to see her married, hers to marry. There was no way around it. King Edward had decreed this and he was not likely to risk the peace of his borders for the wayward desires of one maiden and her lover. Even if that man was a trusted messenger.
To go on this way, to kiss Fellis and hold her as he had only made him want her more. Nay he could not allow it to continue. Stephen knew that he would only end in destroying Fellis, along with himself.
Fellis’s attraction to him would pass, even if she must feel sorrow at this moment.
With that thought in mind, he turned from her. “As you will.” The words were his own, but he felt as though they came from somewhere outside himself.
He could feel her watching him, willing him to meet her tormented gaze. For her sake alone, he found the strength to resist.
The effort cost him dear and when she turned and ran from him, he raised his hands to his face. He could not help wishing there was some other way.
He knew there was not.
Chapter Ten
Stephen was still dressing when he was summoned to attend Lord Grayson the next morning. Hurriedly he finished and followed the serf who had been sent to fetch him.
As he was led down the stairs and to a small chamber off the hall, he could not help but wonder at being beckoned by the baron. The man had of late been more cordial than when Stephen first arrived, but he’d not gone so far as to deliberately seek him out.
Lord Richard was waiting there for him, his handsome face set as if carved from stone. When Stephen entered, he did not rise from where he sat behind a heavy oak table that held a number of books and writing instruments.
The baron’s expression told Stephen all he needed to know. There had been news from Wynn. And if he did not miss his mark, the outcome was not one that Lord Richard favored.
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