His competitive spirit and Aderyn Du’s evident yearning to gallop prompted him to kick his heels against his horse’s sides. Down the hill the gelding charged, and soon they were racing across the meadow and drawing close to Becca and her mare.
Becca looked back over her shoulder and spotted them. He thought she might slow, but wasn’t really surprised when she instead let out a whoop of glee and bent over her horse’s neck, urging her on.
With an answering shout, Blaidd dug his heels into Aderyn Du, spurring him forward. His gelding didn’t let him down. The wind whistled past Blaidd’s ears as they flew, and his hair streamed out behind him like a banner in the breeze.
Blaidd laughed as they gained on their quarry. This was just what he’d hoped for.
That morning after breaking the fast, Becca had mentioned going for a ride through the river meadow and the wood upon leaving the high table, and he’d thought he’d finally found an opportunity to be alone with her.
After he’d spent some time boring Laelia with tales of training, he mentioned—with every appearance of remorse—that his gelding needed exercise, preferably a good gallop. As he expected, Laelia was only too happy to stay in the castle. He’d strolled to the stable, saddled his own horse and ridden out as casually as you please. It had taken him some time to find the river meadow, since he hadn’t wanted to ask directions or look as if he had a particular route in mind.
As he’d passed through the village, he’d thought of Hester and what she’d hinted at. Could she really know something important? Perhaps one of Lord Throckton’s men had thought to gain respect and importance by telling her something he’d learned—or only made up.
Becca and her horse suddenly made a hard left turn into the wood, a forest of oak and chestnut and hazel. Blaidd pulled hard on his reins, and Aderyn Du nearly sat back on his haunches before making the turn. In the next moment, they had plunged into the dimmer light filtered through the branches and leaves, moving along a path barely wide enough for horse and rider.
He saw the rump of Becca’s horse disappear down another path and followed—and then couldn’t see them, or any sign they’d even gone that way. He pulled Aderyn Du to a halt and listened.
He could hear only the birds in the trees and the rustling of branches as a squirrel dashed overhead.
She couldn’t have simply disappeared. Rising in his stirrups, he slowly surveyed the bushes lining the path. He saw a gap in one, with the ends of some branches recently broken. She’d either left the path voluntarily there, or been forced that way. Aderyn Du’s flanks quivered as if he, too, sensed that something was amiss.
Alert, with every sense heightened, Blaidd drew his sword and slipped from the back of his horse.
“I’m quite unarmed, sir knight,” Becca called out from somewhere on the other side of the bushes.
Sighing with relief, he sheathed his blade. “Where are you?”
“Can’t you see me?”
“Obviously not,” he answered, grabbing his horse’s reins and leading him through the break in the bushes. “Are you hiding?”
“Not particularly.”
He looked around, but still didn’t see her. “What does that mean, ‘not particularly?”’
“It means I’m standing where you should be able to see me. Claudia is not so visible.”
Wondering why Becca was being so mysterious, he followed the sound of her voice. “You wish to play a game, do you, my lady? What’s the prize?”
“I wish for us to spend some time together where we won’t be seen,” she replied, closer now and on his right. “I thought you understood that when I said I’d be riding out today.”
“I hoped that was what you meant. I also hope nobody finds it odd that I decided Aderyn Du needed a good gallop on the same day you went riding.” As quietly as he could, he tied his horse’s rein to a bush and crept forward slowly.
“I go out riding all the time, and even if they think we might encounter one another, they’ll surely believe I’ll treat you as I would anyone else by riding away from you as fast as Claudia will take me,” she answered pertly. “They’d never imagine that I would stop and let you catch me.”
He caught sight of the hem of her gown and lunged. “And so I have,” he said as he pulled her into his arms.
She struggled halfheartedly for a moment. “I made it too easy!” she cried with mock annoyance. “I should have laid down so you wouldn’t see me!”
“What, and get muddy?” he said as she relaxed.
While her arms encircled him, she glanced at the soft ground covered with ancient leaves. “Perhaps not.”
“Definitely not, or what would you tell people when you got back?” he asked as his lips gently brushed over hers.
“That I fell. I do sometimes,” she murmured, enjoying the sensation of being in his arms, and his featherlight kisses.
His mouth trailed along her cheek toward her ear. “Where’s your horse?”
She tilted her head toward the sound of a stream, incidentally presenting the side of her jaw for him to kiss. “There’s a little valley there.”
“Ah. You know this wood well, I see.”
“I’ve spent many an hour here.”
“Alone?”
“Usually.”
He drew back and looked at her with what she was fast coming to think of as his “warrior look.” “Should I be jealous?”
“Absolutely not. I used to come here with Dobbin sometimes to practice my archery.”
Blaidd’s slow smile made her heart pound even harder. “That’s all right, then.”
He kissed her again, passionately—so passionately that she could immediately envision the back of her gown covered in mud.
She regretfully broke away. If she didn’t, she wasn’t sure she would be able to prevent things from going too far. But there could be very serious consequences if she made love with Blaidd Morgan here and now. The first would be that she’d never be able to keep their relationship a secret, because she was quite certain she’d want to spend every waking moment with him, either intimately or not.
“Why don’t you fetch your horse and join me in the gully?” she proposed. “There’s a log there we can sit on. I brought my harp, too. I can play for you, if you’d like.”
He grinned. “I’d like that very much. I won’t be a moment.”
Blaidd was as good as his word, and soon they were seated side by side on a large fallen log, the trunk of an oak.
Becca found it wasn’t nearly so easy to initiate a conversation with him as she’d imagined. For one thing, just the fact that such a man was sitting beside her, such a man who wanted her and kissed her so very thoroughly, was extremely distracting. Plus, he just sat there, smiling at her, as if he’d like to do nothing more than that.
“You know my family. Tell me about yours,” she finally ventured.
“Gladly. Where should I start?”
“Wherever you like.”
“Well, then, I’ll tell you that my father was a shepherd in his boyhood, then a squire, then a knight. His marriage to my mother was not her idea, to put it mildly, but nevertheless they fell in love—passionately so. I have a brother, Kynan, and two sisters, Meridyth and Gwyneth. We generally get along, although there are times we don’t.”
“You all have such unusual names.”
He laughed. “Well, mine is unusual even for the Welsh. It’s not really a name at all. Blaidd means ‘wolf’ in my native tongue. My father thought his firstborn son should have a fierce name, you see, and he chose it. Not that I’m complaining,” he added. “My mother was all for Bartholomew.”
“I think Blaidd suits you better,” Becca agreed. She ran a saucy gaze over him. “Between that name and your hair, you’re very fierce indeed.”
He held out a strand of his long dark hair. “You don’t think I should cut it?”
“Not unless you want to,” she answered honestly. “I really can’t imagine you without it, though.”
&
nbsp; That brought another slow, seductive smile to his face, and she hastily thought of a question before she melted in a pool of desperate desire. “If your father was a shepherd, how did he ever get to be a squire?”
“Emryss DeLanyea, my father’s overlord, saw his merit and didn’t hold his birth against him. Mind you,” Blaidd continued with a laugh, “Lady Roanna—that’s Emryss’s wife—says my father was so like a little shadow there was nothing else to do but put him to work, so a squire he became.”
“He was very fortunate to have such a kind and generous overlord.”
“Aye, he was. Emryss DeLanyea’s one of the best men I’ve ever met. I hope that when I am in charge of an estate, I can be as fine a leader, as fair a judge and as good a husband as he, and my father, are.”
Becca slipped her hand in his. “I think you will be. You’re very good with your squire—just the right combination of commander and friend, I think.”
He beamed. “You do?”
“Yes, and so does Dobbin.”
“That’s high praise indeed, although I can’t take too much credit. Trev’s a good lad. He’s a bit brash and full of himself and prone to sulk, but that’s a sixteen-year-old boy for you.”
Becca toyed with a lock of his hair. “Were you that way when you were sixteen?” she asked, picturing his face younger, without all the lean angles. His lips likely hadn’t changed much, though, or his wonderful eyes, except for the little crinkles that appeared at their corners when he smiled.
Blaidd gave her a look of mock offense. “Didn’t you know, my lady, I was the greatest sixteen-year-old anybody in Britain had ever seen? Why, I was even going to show Sir Urien a thing or two about swordplay when I first went to his estate to train.” He shook his head at the folly of youth. “The man damn near sliced my arm off, and that was in the first five minutes. I got over myself pretty quickly, I can tell you.”
“I wish I’d been there.”
“What, to see my utter humiliation?”
“To see you at sixteen.” She nestled against his strong shoulder. “I’d wager all the girls were quite enamored of you. No wonder you thought you were something.”
“I’m glad you didn’t see me then, or you’d no doubt still be thinking I’m a vain, spoiled puppy.” He caressed her cheek with his index finger. “What were you like at sixteen? Not vain or spoiled, I’m sure.”
She sighed and looked away. “If you thought I was a shrew the first day you met me, then I’m very glad you didn’t meet me then. I was very bitter.”
“With just cause, I think.”
She shrugged and didn’t meet his gaze. “Laelia can’t help being beautiful any more than I can help being crippled. I know that, but sometimes even now I forget.” She raised her eyes to look at him. “That’s why I’m hoping to avoid hurting her when she finds out about us.”
He regarded her steadily, and the air about them seemed to tremble with a new tension. “She may be upset, no matter what we do. Are you prepared to accept that?”
She nodded. “I’m not about to give you up because Laelia might be angry. Besides, there are plenty of other men for her.”
Blaidd smiled wryly. “I’m delighted to know I can be replaced so easily.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know that, my darling,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose. “I’m not that sixteen-year-old peacock anymore. Thank God.”
He slipped his arm about her and drew her to him for a long, soft kiss. Then another, until she felt the passion build to the danger point, and pulled back. “I hope your mother likes me.”
He kissed her forehead. “I’m sure she will. And my father, too. And Kynan and the girls.”
Becca smiled wistfully. “I never knew my own mother. She died when I was a babe.”
“I’m sorry.”
Becca shrugged. “It’s my father you should feel sorry for. She was his second wife. Laelia’s mother was his first, and she died giving birth to Laelia. That’s why we don’t look much alike. He married a third time, but she died, too, also in childbirth. That baby—another girl—died, as well. My father once said God must not want him to have sons, so he would be content with his daughters.” She made a wry little laugh. “Well, Laelia, anyway. I’m harder to appreciate.”
“Not for me,” Blaidd said firmly. “You’re an excellent daughter.”
She couldn’t resist kissing his jaw. “You want sons, I suppose?”
“Yes, and daughters, too, with bright eyes and pink cheeks, who can ride and shoot and play the harp.”
“That seems a long list, sir knight,” she said gravely, although inwardly, she was absolutely delighted. She smiled as she envisioned the children they might have—strong, sturdy, handsome, chivalrous sons who would be welcome in any hall. Bold, happy daughters who didn’t have to hide their opinions and who could walk without limping.
“It is quite a list,” Blaidd agreed, “but I’m hopeful I’ll succeed. That will mostly depend upon the wife I choose, of course. I do have a promising candidate in mind—and in my arms.”
He was such a marvelous, attractive, virile man—and then another thought came to her mind. “Do you…” She took a deep breath. “Do you have any children already?”
“No,” he answered without hesitation. “Or at least, none that I know of. I won’t pretend I haven’t made love to other women, Becca, but so far, none have come forth to claim I got them with child.” He regarded her gravely. “If that should happen, I’ll acknowledge any child I was responsible for bringing into the world.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from an honorable man,” she said, stroking his cheek and admiring his honesty, even as she subdued a stab of jealousy for any woman fortunate enough to bear his child.
“Your father seems to have made his peace with a lack of sons,” Blaidd noted. “Many a man would keep trying.”
“He has accepted it, or found it too painful to consider marrying again. I didn’t know my stepmother well, but I think he cared a great deal for her. I know he loved Laelia’s mother very much. He’s told her so many times.”
“And your mother?”
Becca looked away. “Not so much, perhaps. He never speaks of her.”
“Perhaps he loved her most of all, then?” Blaidd proposed. “Maybe he can’t bear to talk about her because of the pain he felt at her loss.”
Becca looked at Blaidd with wonder and gratitude. She’d never thought of this explanation, but perhaps it was true. It was an unlooked-for comfort, and she blessed Blaidd for suggesting it.
His expression grew more grave. “Since we are speaking of your father, I can’t help noticing he doesn’t think much of the king. He should, perhaps, not voice his frustration quite so often, or in public.”
Becca sighed and played with the lace of Blaidd’s tunic, subduing the urge to slip her hand inside and stroke his naked chest. “It’s not the king himself he hates. It’s the way Henry’s rewarded his wife’s relations, for nothing more than being his wife’s relations. From what I’ve heard about the court, my father has a point.”
“Whether his opinion is valid or not, a wiser man might think twice about announcing such views to all and sundry.”
“Then you don’t agree that Henry’s filling our government with Frenchmen who don’t have the welfare of England at heart? You think they aren’t lining their own pockets and giving him bad advice?”
Blaidd sighed and loosened his hold. “I can’t say I agree that the king makes wise decisions every day. I think he’s a good, devout man who’ll do well with wise counsel—perhaps this parliament that Simon de Montfort suggests. However, when all is said and done, and whether I agree with every decision or appointment he makes, Henry’s my rightful sovereign, to whom I’ve sworn an oath of loyalty—as has your father.”
As Blaidd gazed at her, she was taken aback by the intensity in his brown eyes. “Do you believe he will abide by that oath?” he asked.
“Of cours
e!” she assured him. “To do otherwise would be treason.”
Blaidd nodded. “Yes, it would,” he said grimly. “And the consequences could be disastrous, for him and for you.”
She stared at him, incredulous. “Are you saying my father may be betraying that oath just because he dares to suggest that Henry’s making some mistakes?”
Blaidd rose and took hold of her hands, his grip strong and warm as he pulled her to her feet. “I’m saying that unless your father wants people to wonder about his loyalty, he should be careful about what he says.”
She cocked her head to regard him studiously. “Do you doubt his loyalty?”
“No. No, I don’t,” Blaidd said, without hesitation. His lips twitched in a little smile. “Praise God, I don’t.”
Her ire disappeared as quickly as it had arisen. “I’m sorry. You startled me. I thought you were accusing him, and you’re a friend of the king. If you were to repeat what you said at court…” She didn’t have to finish.
“I’m not accusing him,” he assured her. “I’m just warning you, and I’m hoping you can warn him in a way that won’t make him angry, either.”
“I’ll do my best,” she vowed, seeing the wisdom of his words.
He smiled that slow, devastating smile again. “Why, my lady, we’re standing very close together again. You know what that means, don’t you?”
She shook her head.
“I’m going to have to kiss you.”
She let him. Well, truth be told, she kissed him, too. For quite some time. She kept kissing him as he inched back and sat on the log, drawing her down until she was cradled on his lap.
“Blaidd?” she murmured as he nibbled her earlobe, sending the most delicious ripples of pleasure through her body.
“Yes?”
She managed to move away and get up. “I’m discovering I’m not as strong as I thought I was,” she said. “If we don’t stop, I’m going to want to make love with you here and now, muddy ground or not. I think I should fetch my harp.”
Margaret Moore - [Warrior 14] Page 12