A Walk in the Black Forest

by K. A. M'Lady

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Rosalynn had brought Gabriella a different dress to wear for dinner. It was pale green with wide cuffed sleeves and a rich emerald green over tunic that tied at the waist with a cord of gold. It matched her eyes perfectly, Gabriella noted as she looked in the pounded metal mirror. It reminded her of a glen; soft and lush and filled with green after the first of the summer rains.

  Tying the cord around her slim waist, she spun in a small circle, feeling like a fairy princess as the light fabric twirled effortlessly in the breeze of her making. She smiled with delight as she turned to Rosalynn.

  “You look lovely, milady. ‘Tis a gown fit for a princess if I ever did see one.”

  “Why thank you, Rosalynn,” she replied with a curtsey.

  “His lordship has advised that I tell you that his cousin has arrived with a missive from the King. The man is a snake of the lowest kind,” she warned. “Keep as far from him and his men as possible, milady. One cannot trust him at all. He is a cruel and vile man.”

  “Why does Damon allow him here if he’s such a piece of crap?” Gabriella asked.

  “Piece of crap?” Rosalynn asked, her brow furrowing and nose crinkling as she tried to decipher the term.

  “Crap—you know—horse dung.”

  “Ah. Well, ‘tis because he, too, is a King’s man and to not offer hospitality would be an insult to the King himself. Milord has no choice in it, no matter how much he hates his cousin.”

  “Why does he hate his own cousin?” Gabriella continued.

  “A long time ago,” Rosalynn said, “when Damon had first earned his spurs, they met at a tourney. At that time, Pasquel was thought to be one of the best young knights of the time. He had beaten many and not been unseated once by any on the field, whether they were more experienced than he or not. Then, as the tourney went on, Damon rode onto the field and unseated him all three runs.”

  “Oooh, I bet his cousin was completely torqued off.”

  “Torqued off? What is this manner of words that you speak?” Rosalynn asked, completely confused by Gabriella’s strange language.

  “You know, pissed. Mad as hell.”

  “Oh, aye, he was. Made a huge scene on the field and swore to have his vengeance one day. Of course milord disregarded it as mere anger.”

  “Of course,” Gabriella replied.

  “Now, enough talk of men and their egos and vengeance. Come, milady, our meal awaits—as does milord.”

  She took Gabriella’s arm and led her out the door. Gabriella could hear the revelry going on in the hall as they left her room. Dishes clanged and men laughed deeply, as men were wont to do. She seemed to be growing accustomed to this strange land and the differences between it and her own time.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Rosalynn went her separate way and left her to walk by herself to the table. All eyes turned to stare at her as she walked across the hall. All conversation stopped and all of the men present stood as she passed, each inclining their head to her. It made her very uncomfortable, and she faltered for but a second.

  Her stomach in knots, she made her way to the head of the table, but she held her head high and walked as straight as possible to where Damon was standing. His eyes never strayed from her face as she reached his side, took her hand and kissed her fingers, seating her next to him.

  “I grow hot with want as I look at you,” he whispered to her, taking his seat.

  A small blush lit her cheeks and she smiled at him.

  “Your layman is quite breathtaking, Cousin,” Pasquel stated into the returning voices all around them. “One might give much to sample her.”

  “Be very careful, Cousin,” Damon told him, his eyes boring into Pasquel.

  Pasquel held up his hands in mock surrender. “‘Tis just a statement I make, Cousin. Nothing more.”

  Gabriella glared at the man who sat across from her, smarmy being the only word she could think of to describe him. He watched her with dark eyes, and Gabriella involuntarily shivered. “I’m not his laymen, for your information,” she replied tartly. “I’m his prisoner.”

  “Indeed. And a lovelier captive I’m sure could not exist,” he told her. “Tell me, milady, just how did you come to be the captive of the King’s great champion?”

  “‘Tis a long story, cousin, one that bears no concern to you.” Damon cut her off before she could reply.

  Her mouth stood open as she looked at him. She felt his hand on her knee, squeezing just tight enough to hurt. She kicked him beneath the table, and Damon made a small grunt. He glared at her, returning his hand to the table and the cup of mead that sat between them. She knew he was trying to keep her quiet, but didn’t know why.

  “So tell me, milady,” Pasquel continued as he ignored his cousin’s dark glare. “Where does such a lovely creature come from? I must go there and find me my own laymen if all have such beauty as you do.”

  Gabriella knew he was just trying to bait Damon and she was slightly irritated at him for being so overbearing. So, just to spite him and maybe shock the slippery toad across from her, she replied, “I live in New York City.”

  “York is not so new, milady,” Pasquel told her. “Mayhap you’re confused.”

  “I’m not confused. My New York City is across the ocean and many years away.”

  “That will be enough, Gabriella,” Damon told her, his arm reaching for her chair and pulling it closer to him.

  “An interesting tale, no doubt, mayhap you can tell me all about it at a later time,” Pasquel replied, a smirk appearing on his face.

  Gabriella could tell he didn’t believe her either, but she didn’t care. Damon had not addressed the issue with her since she had told him and she wanted to know what he truly thought.

  “Aye, very interesting. And a conversation that we will discuss later, Gabriella. I think ‘tis time you retired for the evening. You are quite tired, and not yet rested enough from your wound.”

  “Not in your care for long, Cousin, and already she has suffered wounds. And you say that I am cruel. You know, if you don’t want her, I will be happy to take her off your hands.”

  “Enough,” Damon growled as he stood. “I want you gone by morning, Cousin. And you,” he said, taking Gabriella by the arm. “We have things to discuss.” Pulling her behind him, he strode out of the great hall and up the stairs.

  “Why are we leaving?” Gabriella whined. “We haven’t even eaten, and I’m hungry.”

  “You should have thought of that, milady, before you decided to plague me in front of my men and my wretched cousin on the whereabouts of your home.”

  “This is not my fault,” she stated, trying to pull her arm loose of his grasp as he dragged her up the stairs. “You’re the one who refuses to discuss it or believe what I say is the truth. If you ask me, this is your fault.”

  “My fault? My fault!” he bellowed as they reached his door. Yanking it open, he shoved her inside and slammed it behind them. “Do tell, milady, how is this my fault?”

  “If you’d have left me where you found me, I wouldn’t be stuck here. With you,” she added.

  Damon glared at her and she flinched as he stalked towards her, backing her up to the wall. “Should I have left you, milady, you would probably, at this very moment, be a prisoner of the rebels,” he stated between clenched teeth. “Rebels who have no care as to the treatment of their prisoners, whether they be women or not.”

  He trapped her between his arms, hands flat against the wall. His breath was hot on her neck. Her heart raced, from anger as well as need. Her blood boiled for him, because of him. When she looked up into the depths of his silver eyes, she was lost.

  Damon growled. His head dipped, and his lips reached hers. He pulled her tightly against him and all the anger she had melted away into a pool of want. She reached up around his neck and held his head, her fingers lost in the curls of his hair.

  Damon pulled her tighter against him. Desire snaked through him as he pulled the
cord from her waist and lifted the tunic over her head. Both were gasping as he reached for the long dress beneath. She wore nothing beneath but a thin chemise. He smiled to himself as he ripped the cloth from her body, leaving her bare to his touch. Then he reached for her breasts and took one tight peak into his mouth.

  Gabriella arched in his arms, lost to his touch. He suckled hard on one aching nipple before moving to the other. His hands stroked down her back to the soft curves of her buttocks, cupping them with a groan. Returning to her waist, he lifted her in his arms and pressed her back against the stones of the wall. Without thought, he had released himself as the tip of his manhood found her soft, wet folds. Without preamble, he plunged inside her, taking the scream from her lips.

  Gabriella could feel him deep within her, and nothing had ever felt so perfect or right. They found their rhythm. Hard, deep thrusts, and both were on fire with need.

  Damon thrust into her, his hands tight at her small waist, his lips upon her neck. He tried to keep the pace slow, to make it last. But his need of her was too great. It had been hours since he had taken her, and he could not wait another second. Tightening his grip, he increased the tempo, driving her closer to the edge of her release as soon as he saw the change in her features, her eyes flashing as her orgasm overtook her, he plunged deeper, harder. Shafting himself as far as he could go. His release quickly followed.

  Gabriella gasped for air as she clung to Damon. He was still deep inside her, holding her against the wall, his breath hot against her ear.

  “What is it you do to me, Gabriella?” he whispered.

  She wondered if it was a rhetorical question, for she had no idea. He did so many things to her she could not grasp them all. She said nothing, just clung to him, her breath slowly returning to normal.

  Damon shifted, leaving the warmth of her sheath as he set her on her feet. He righted his own clothes and walked to his chest at the end of the bed. From the top, he pulled a thin white chemise and brought it to her.

  “There is clean water by the fire if you wish to wash yourself,” he told her.

  Gabriella took the chemise from him, careful not to look at him and walked towards the screen where his chamber pot was, stopping to get the warm water and a cloth. As she washed and put on the clean chemise, she wondered at her relationship with Damon and where it was leading her.

  The man totally confused her. One minute she wanted to throttle him and the next she was lost in his arms as he ravished her. Most often she could not get enough of him. She truly wondered what would happen if she gave up on any thought of leaving this place Would Damon want to keep her? And if he did, would it be as his laymen, as his cousin stated she was. Or if he would want her as more than something to warm his bed.

  Her father would be very disappointed if he knew what had become of her. True, he would relish the experience of this time, but he would still want her to be married, have children, a secure and happy family. Her mother would just want her to follow her heart.

  These thoughts of her parents made her all the more confused. She knew that this life was very hard and very unpredictable. People died of unknown illnesses, war was always a possibility and most women and children never survived their birth.

  The thought of a child gave her pause as she slipped the chemise over her head. She’d never been with anyone else, so there was never a need for birth control. Her periods were never on a normal schedule, so it was difficult for her to even keep track of them. But as her hand brushed the flatness of her belly, she wondered if it was possible to be, even now, carrying Damon’s child.

  “Do you wish to stay behind that screen all night, Gabriella?” Damon asked.

  Gabriella blinked her thoughts away as she came around the screen to find Damon undressed and in bed waiting for her. “Don’t you have company you need to see to?”

  “My cousin is a worm, one that I do not wish to spend my evening with. I would rather my time be spent in bed with you,” he told her, a slight gleam sparkling in his eyes. “Come,” he said, pulling back the blankets on what now appeared to be her side of the bed.

  Gabriella climbed beneath the covers and curled her body into his, wrapping her arm around his waist.

  With a deep sigh, Damon closed his eyes on the world around him, happy, for now, in the comfort of having Gabriella in his arms. Happiness was not an emotion he thought he would ever experience again. But now, here, with her beside him, he had never felt more content.

  “Damon,” Gabriella whispered, her head resting against his chest.

  “Aye.”

  “Why don’t you believe I could be from the future?”

  He pried an eye open and looked down at her where she lay nestled against him Taking a deep breath, he replied, “I do not discount your words entirely, milady. But you must admit that the tale is a bit difficult to believe. Ask yourself, if faced with the same situation, would you believe?”

  “Well,” she replied. “I suppose I would find it a bit difficult. But I wouldn’t discount it completely.”

  “I just said that I do not discount your word completely.”

  “You don’t?” she asked, hopeful for the first time.

  “No, I do not.”

  “Then will you help me get back to my own home?” she asked, looking up into his silver eyes.

  Damon rolled her over onto her back as he held himself above her. His eyes turned to molten mercury, emotions flashing across his face before his features became as stern and unforgiving as an iceberg. “You are mine, Gabriella, and I’ll not let you go so easily,” his voice was gruff as his jaw ticked.

  “You found me in a field, Damon, took me against my wishes and keep me now as your prisoner. What need do you have of me? I am nothing but a thing to you. Something you claim against my will.”

  “You are mine, Gabriella, and I do not part with what is mine. Your will means nothing against my own,” he told her, taking her chin in his fingers, bringing his lips down hard upon hers. He forced her lips apart as his tongue warred with hers. Gabriella knew it was pointless, he would have his way and there was nothing she could say would change that.

  His forcefulness soon turned to softness, and she became lost in his embrace. He made love to her softly. Drew out the length of their desire with soft, passionate kisses. Slow and sultry touches. Her body burned as his fingers trailed fire along her flesh. He made love to her half the night before she fell asleep, nestled in the strength of his arms.

  * * * * * *

  Damon held her closely to him, his breath even and slow so she would think he was asleep as he pondered the entire situation. Did she speak truth in her tale of coming from the future? Nothing could prove or disprove her story and he wondered at the possibility. He wondered if it really mattered. She was here now and he was going to keep it that way. She had grown too important to him.

  He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew there was much more to his feelings. He didn’t think he would ever be capable of loving again. But Gabriella had done something to his heart, and he wanted no other but her to hold it in their hands. Darkness settled along with the castle and Damon drifted to sleep, more content than he had ever been in his life.

  * * * * * *

  Gabriella listened to the slight rumble of Damon’s snores as she curled closer to the warmth of his body. She felt so safe with Damon. Knew he would never hurt her. And she knew right then, in the darkness of the night with the moon shining full through the window, that she loved this man. Despite his grumbles or because of them, she loved him as she had never loved before. He completed her. Filled her heart and soul.

  So this is what it’s like, Mother? she asked the darkness. With a smile of comfort on her lips, she placed her hand over Damon’s heart and fell asleep, thoughts of children and love filling her dreams.

  * * * * * *

  Damon thought he heard thunder crashing through his dreams. He knew there were no storm clouds on the horizon when he had gone to sleep, but this great
boom was greater than the crashing of waves on the breaks. Opening his eyes, he heard the distant roar of many horses thundering across the plain and someone pounding on his door. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, pulling on his breeches and heading for the door. “What is it?” he roared.

  John stepped back away from the door. “I am sorry to disturb you, milord, but riders approach. Sir Richard and many riders just past the village. It seems of great importance as a rider was sent ahead.”

  “Very well, John,” he grumbled. “Wake Tanak and tell him to meet me in the hall.”

  “He is already there, milord.”

  “Then have Rosalynn prepare for additional guests.”

  “Aye, milord,” John said as he turned and left the passageway.

  Damon closed the door and looked around for his tunic. He watched Gabriella as she slept unaware of the noise going on around her. She was beautiful with her arm stretched out over where he had been lying, her hair spread across his pillow. It was exactly where he intended she would remain. Always.

  Damon grabbed his tunic from the floor where she had thrown it and pulled it over his head. He had no idea what would bring Sir Richard so soon and with so many riders, but he was definitely going to find out.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Reaching the great hall, he found Tanak and Rosalynn waiting for him.

  “Should we wake your pathetic cousin?” Tanak asked.

  “There’s no reason for him to be involved.”

  “Ah, but Cousin, it is there you are wrong. It is our King’s desire that we work together in rousting out these rebels,” Pasquel stated, crossing the hall to join the others.

  “What is it you are babbling about, Pasquel?”

  “Had you stayed for dinner long enough, I would have shared the King’s missive,” he said, handing Damon a piece of parchment with the King’s seal.

  Damon broke the seal and read the missive, his eyes darkening with aggravation, his jaw ticking in anger. He handed the missive to Tanak to read, and turned to stare at his cousin. “Since when do you have the king’s ear, Cousin? I had no idea you had your mind set to such lofty heights.”