The Spymaster's Protection

by S A Monk

  “I must try,” the count argued resolutely. “And you and I must ride out in the morning to see if we can stop this, Lucien.”

  Lucien dropped his head in a gesture of brief accord, then turned toward the stairs. “I am tired and have yet to do a couple of things. I will meet you here, in the hall, at dawn, my lord.” Turning, he gestured to his friend. “Conrad, come upstairs with me and I will give you my Templar gear.”

  The count halted him with a hand on his forearm. “I will have weapons and armor sent up to you this evening. And you will not pay for anything, my friend. I owe you too much to accept your coin, Sir de Aubric.”

  Lucien acknowledged the count’s generosity with a weary, but grateful smile. Sir de Aubric. Despite all that had happened tonight, the secular designation sounded good.

  +++

  After Conrad left, Lucien sank down on the edge of the bed in his room and braced his elbows on his knees. Staring at the patterns in the Persian carpet thrown over the stone floor, he raked both hands through his hair wearily.

  It had been a long day. He’d covered many dusty miles, only to return to his superior’s foolhardy, reckless wrath. A man of more even temperament and prudent judgment would have seen the insanity of confronting a small army with a handful of men. It was a cause of great pride to all Templars that their bravery was renowned even among the Saracens, but the ill-considered, rash attack de Ridefort planned was not bravery, in Lucien’s estimation. It was suicidal!

  Even now he could hear them preparing to leave for Caco, then Nazareth. The courtyard had been bustling with activity all evening. For Lucien, it was a replay of Jacob’s Ford all over again; valiant men being sent blindly into a situation that would, in all likelihood, end in most of their deaths because it was poorly planned and motivated by one man’s unholy pride and blind zealotry.

  Lucien dropped his head into his hands, sick at heart that he could not stop the slaughter that seemed so likely to occur but a few hours hence.

  He did not hear the door to Gabrielle’s room open. Nor did he see her entrance into his chamber. It was not until he heard her voice that he lifted his head.

  “Lucien, what is happening outside?”

  Dressed for bed, she stood in the doorway that connected their rooms, looking hesitant to enter. He caught a glimpse of the white muslin gown beneath her robe, and smiled. It was the one he had purchased for her at the bazaar today on his way through town.

  He’d thought of her having to leave all that was familiar to her, her home, her friends, her personal things, just to be safe from a man who should have cherished her and protected her.

  He’d never purchased anything for a woman before, but for this woman he thought he just might want to purchase the world. It was a small thing, and he was enormously glad that she chose to accept it and wear it. He wondered, too what it looked like on her. It had seemed pretty enough when he’d chosen it, all soft and gauzy and lacey.

  He’d certainly had no trouble imagining her in it when he’d seen it.

  Pushing slowly to his feet, he walked to the doorway where she stood, admiring how lovely she looked backlit by the candlelight from her room. It glowed around her like a halo.

  “De Ridefort is leaving tonight to put together a force of some kind to intercept the Saracen envoy on the morrow,” he answered her, wanting very badly to wrap her in his arms and simply hold her against him.

  “Are you going?”

  “I was not allowed to go with them.”

  Gabrielle stared up at him with relief plainly written on her beautiful face. “Good. It is a stupid thing to do!”

  Lucien chuckled. “That is more or less the opinion I conveyed to de Ridefort.” The scent of orange blossoms and something slightly spicy clung to her, tantalizing his senses and engulfing him in a wave of pleasure.

  With her head tilted back, Gabrielle studied his expression. It was obvious that the evening had been distressful for him. It made her want to take him in her arms and comfort him.

  “Gérard de Ridefort is a vain, hypocritical, pig-headed, old bastard,” she proclaimed vehemently. “And he smells like moldy old goatskin! It must be that he never bathes or changes those lambs’ wool drawers Templars wear.”

  Lucien stared at her and dissolved into a fit of laughter. It was several long moments before he could contain his amusement enough to speak again. When he did, his eyes were filled with tears of mirth.

  “God’s mercy, lady!” he croaked. “Where did you hear about the smelly lambs’ wool drawers Templars wear?”

  “Well,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You only have to stand next to most of them to know bathing is not something they do often, you being the exception, of course. And I have overheard Reynald joking about the fact that Templars are never allowed to change out of their lambs’ wool drawers. Is it so?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” he chuckled again, thinking he could not recall the last time he had laughed so hard. By the Virgin, this woman was good for him!

  “I take it, you do not abide by the practice?”

  “I cannot have the enemy smell me a mile away, now, can I? How would I be able to spy on them otherwise? Besides, I am half Saracen, as I was reminded tonight. The Arabs are fastidious bathers. Their army camps are free of all the disease that riddles our own.”

  “I have heard that, also. Mayhap, we will eventually learn something from them.”

  “Let’s hope so.” Lucien saw her look nervously into the dimly lit room behind him. “Shall we go into your room? I had planned to keep vigil in there tonight again, anyway.”

  Gabrielle was relieved. She did not want to fall asleep alone after the other night’s attack. Before she heard him come upstairs tonight, she had kept both doors locked and all the candles burning.

  As a result, her room was very brightly lit. Lucien asked her if he could extinguish some of the candles, and she nodded. “Sleep on the bed, the way you did last night,” she suggested to him as he went to the uncomfortable high-backed chair near the bed. “You cannot rest in that.”

  He stared at her for a long deliberating moment. Last night had not been easy, lying next to her while she slept, but he had to be up at dawn. If he slept in the chair tonight, he would be stiff and sore and exhausted, and he feared he had a long and difficult day ahead of him tomorrow.

  When she saw that he was not going to argue, she quickly climbed up onto the bed with her robe on, sat up against the mound of pillows, then tucked the bedcovers snuggly all around her. As soon as she was completely settled, she patted the space beside her. “Grab the blanket on the chair,” she instructed him with a smile so full of innocence and beauty it stunned him.

  Unable to deny himself the pleasure of her nearness, he eased onto the bed and stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles. He had already removed his dusty boots and heavier Templar surcoat and mantle. After giving his monastic garb to Brother Conrad, he was dressed simply in hose and thin linen undertunic.

  Gabrielle turned to him with a worried frown. “I overheard a terrible thing tonight. Were you stripped of habit by the Grand Master?”

  “Aye.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “It is a punishment within the Order that removes all status and privileges.” He refrained from telling her about the other consequences such as eating off the floor, being flogged, and taken back in irons.

  “Oh, Lucien, no!”

  Despite the large width of the bed, she was still within arm’s length; close enough for him to smell the bewitching scent she wore and feel the heat of her deliciously long supple body. He was enthralled by the deep concern in her luminescent blue eyes. It was all for him, and it soothed his lingering anger and frustration immensely.

  “Is it because you are here with me? How did the man know your room was next to mine anyway?”

  “He probably learned of our room assignments from a servant. And this is not because of you… not entirely,” he reassured her. Feeling
compelled to touch her in some way to ease her distress, he took her hand. The gesture made her angle sideways to fully face him. It brought her and her delicious scent closer. Lucien took in a long draught of it before he continued. “While de Ridefort seeks to place blame on you, it is truly because he and I have been in conflict from the start. He has never liked the fact that I operate so independently of him, and I do not respect him enough to alter that.”

  “Does it mean you are no longer a Templar?”

  “Nay, I could remain a rank and file brother when the punishment is over, but I have withdrawn from the Order. I have renounced my vows to the Grand Master. I turned my equipment in to Brother Conrad earlier. I will be simply a man and a knight now.”

  “Can you do that? Just quit?”

  “Probably not, but I did.”

  He could see that she warred between being distressed and hopeful.

  “What will you do now?”

  He looked at her and wanted to say be with you. “I will continue to do what I have been doing, only as a secular knight, not as a monk. The kingdom needs my intelligence and the use of my network. Without it, the king will have no eyes. When this crisis has passed….” He continued to stare at her and shrugged. “Well, I will probably take service with a baron, or hire out my services.”

  She nodded, but he could tell she did not truly understand. Hell, he did not truly understand yet all the changes that his actions tonight would bring.

  She dropped her head, unable to hold his piercing dark stare. “I knew I would bring you trouble.”

  It was a muted statement, one barely heard; one laced with sorrow and regret. Lucien closed the distance between them and slipped an arm around her shoulders. With his free hand, he lifted her chin. Tears glimmered in her eyes, tears that startled him because they were for him.

  “Aw, Gabrielle, this is not your fault!” he said, curling his arm until she was snug against his side.

  “My life has always been a mess. Anyone who gets involved with me gets caught up in that mess.”

  “Not so, mi’lady,” he murmured against the top of her head as he slid his other arm around her to enfold her within his embrace. “Not so. I will help you fix this mess because I have chosen to do so. You have become very important to me.”

  Her hair was loosely secured in a long thick braid which fell over one slender shoulder. Lucien succumbed to the desire to run his fingertips over its silken texture. Lord, she made him want things he had no right to want!

  Unable to resist the acute temptation, he slid his palm to her cheek. Her skin was so soft and smooth; like fine silk, its color the shade of light golden honey. Her big dark blue eyes were locked on his with silent wonder. Her curiosity mirrored his. What was his intent here?

  He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t thinking. He was simply responding viscerally to her nearness and his own desires. The kiss they had shared the night before had been on his mind since it had happened. He wanted another taste of her, another deeper, longer sample. He had wanted that from the first day he’d met her. She was so unbearably sweet. And he wanted her with a ferocity that rocked him.

  He lifted his other hand, cupped her head, and pulled her forward to cover her mouth with his. This time, he kissed her with all the hunger he had felt for her from the beginning. His desire was not tentative like last night. It quickly became much more demanding, straining the edges of his fierce self-control.

  Her fragrance enveloped him in a cloud of sweet scent, and he wanted to drown in it, the way he wanted to drown in her kiss, in her body. He tilted her head from one angle to another, rubbing her lips with his, pressing little kisses from one corner to the other.

  Savoring the taste and texture of her, he ran the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips. This time, they parted for him without uncertainty. Her untried innocence still enchanted him.

  “Gabi….” His voice was thick with desire and far too much desperation.

  The moment her tongue met his, rather shyly still, his kiss turned hotter, more urgent. He felt her gasp in momentary shock and gave her time to adjust. His pulse leapt when she met his wilder passion without resistance.

  She trembled against him, and her body twisted beneath the tangle of bedcovers. His hands fell from her face to the side of her head as he turned her and pressed her back deeper into the pillows with his body, then rose above her and untied her robe to push it off of her shoulders. Emboldened by her enthusiastic response, he tugged on the ribbons that laced up the bodice of her new gauze nightgown.

  It fell off one side of her, baring the translucent golden globe of one breast. Groaning, he fit his long fingers around its creamy full shape. She was voluptuously endowed, and she was so unbearably soft, it was nearly miraculous.

  Desire flared to a searing hot flame within him, and he was nearly undone by the sweet little sounds emerging from her throat. Restraint dimmed. Completely intoxicated by her, he abandoned her kiss-swollen lips and bent over the rosy puckered peak of her breast. He drew it into his mouth, suckled it, then anointed it with the wet swirl of his tongue. His arm tightened around her as she shivered violently and stammered his name. She was heavily aroused and totally surprised by it.

  Lucien was delighted.

  He wanted to introduce her to all the pleasures he was fairly certain she had never experienced with her brutal husband. While he continued to lavishly attend to her breast, his hand edged lower, wandering slowly over her stomach to finally settle over the warm vee between her legs. Beneath her gown, her dark feminine curls were hot and damp. His hand inched lower until he found her tangled hem. Under the fragile fabric, his fingers traced an unhurried path upwards, over her delicately boned ankle, past her bent knee, to her velvety inner thigh.

  “Lucien?”

  He heard the edge of fear in her voice and lifted his head to look into her glazed blue eyes. “It is all right, Gabi. I won’t hurt you. Let me show you how much pleasure you can feel.”

  He could see that she didn’t quite believe him, but she seemed willing to trust him a little longer. When his fingers reached the dark triangle of curls between her legs, he stopped and curved them gently over her mound. She flinched, and he stilled his hand, giving her time to become accustomed to his intimate caress.

  His smile encouraged her. “I promise it won’t hurt.”

  “It always hurts,” she answered him in a tiny frightened voice, her legs held tightly together.

  He ached for her, knowing what she meant. “It shouldn’t. Let me change it for you.”

  Tears filled her eyes. Gabrielle couldn’t help it. This man was so different, so gentle, so patient.

  She wanted to know what made other women flush with excitement and anticipation whenever they were near a man they wanted. She stared into Lucien’s darkly passionate gaze for several seconds and finally decided to let him show her what might await.

  When he read the consent in her eyes, he dipped one finger into her woman’s channel.

  “Open your legs a bit more, Gabi,” he asked huskily. “Let me into your sweet heat.”

  And she was, by God! Sweet and hot and wet, despite her anxiety. He could even smell her arousal now, and it made his cock jerk reflexively. He knew he would only do this for her tonight, but he needed her to touch him, even if for just a moment. With his free hand, he caught her wrist and brought her fingers to his erection, cupping them around his swollen shape as he stroked her slippery folds.

  She quickly understood what he wanted and squeezed him as he rubbed arousing little circles around the tiny nub at her entrance. It had been a long time since he’d done this to a woman, but he tried hard to remember lost skills, for her.

  As the tender peak swelled, he nipped her earlobe, then softly bit her neck. Jesu, her fingers were still squeezing and rubbing him! He was so engorged, he didn’t know how long it would be before he spilled his long-dormant seed.

  This was not meant for him tonight, he reminded himself ruthlessly before he capture
d her hand and hauled it up to his chest.

  Concentrating on bringing her the pleasure he had promised, he continued to stroke her, exulting in the quivering response that vibrated through her entire body. He brought her to the brink, then adeptly took her away from it until she was squirming and writhing beneath him, her head thrown back against the pillows, her lashes resting dark and thick on her damp cheeks.

  He watched her as she teetered on the peak of ecstasy, enthralled by the sight. Never had he wanted a woman as much as he did her. His own body was on fire, in agony. He wanted her naked beneath him, writhing, quivering like this. Part of him could barely hold back. But he wanted her for more than a tumble in bed. This was not all there would be between them. He wanted more, so much more!

  Ignoring the demands of his own body, Lucien ended her agony, and guided her expertly to a shattering climax. He captured her mouth in a savage and powerful kiss just as a rapturous cry was torn from her throat. The plunge of his tongue met the violent arch of her body as she clenched around his fingers, her wild response nearly undoing him.

  Near bursting, his body absorbed the shock waves that rippled through her slim body for long moments afterwards. His heartbeat seemed centered in his lower regions as he clutched her tightly to him on the bed. The fact that he had moved her to such passion and led her to such pleasure filled him with tenderness and pride. Amazingly, it seemed enough for him, despite the pain in his groin.

  When Gabrielle finally opened her eyes and looked at him, a wondrous smile curved her swollen pink lips. Without taking her gaze off of him, she lifted herself up onto the mound of pillows beneath her head and shoulders. Her robe was buried beneath her. With a twist, she pulled it out from under her, then tossed it onto floor. Finally, lowering her gaze from his, she shouldered her way back into her nightgown. Her fingers glided over the pink satin ribbons that laced the ruffled bodice.

  “Thank you for this,” she murmured with a gut-wrenchingly shy smile as she gestured to her new sleeping gown.

  Lucien returned her smile, tenderly amused by her nervous indecision about what to do with her partially unveiled body. “How did you know it was from me? I put no name on the outside wrapping, except yours.”