Keeper of the Stone

by Lynn Wood

  The flimsy barrier provided its wearer little protection against his suddenly raging needs. He reached out and slowly urged the garment above her waist, then let his hand roam freely over the warm, tender skin beneath, amazed anew at its softness. Not even the finest of silks he came across in his travels matched the softness of his wife’s skin.

  He was playing with fire and he knew it, but he could do nothing to stop his hand from exploring further, creeping upward, until his knuckles brushed the swell of her full breasts. From there it was only natural for him to slide his thumb across one rose-budded nipple until it hardened beneath his caress and strained for more of his touch. His wife sighed in her sleep again and she moved restlessly against him.

  He inched the thin garment she wore up a little higher, and promising himself he was still in control, rolled her a little closer into the circle of his arms so he could drop his head and bury his face in the golden tendrils of her long hair, spread out like a cloud now on the sheets beneath her. Tinkling bells sounded their warning but his wife slept blissfully on as he inhaled her woman’s fragrance and his calloused hands played across her skin.

  When she scooted closer still seeking his warmth against the chill in the room, he rolled over on his back. His wife followed until she was now sprawled on top of him, her legs tucked between his, her head resting on his chest with her face pressed against the side of his neck. She breathed his scent with each breath and he adjusted himself just slightly so his hard erection was pressed up exactly against the beckoning heat of her center. This sweet torture he inflicted on himself could not go on much longer. Either he must wake his wife and gain her permission to satisfy his body’s insistent inclination or he needed to leave this bed and quickly.

  His conscience fought a losing batter with his male passions, but he was saved from further self-recrimination when his wife moaned in her sleep and she lifted her head and opened sleepy, passion-filled eyes to his face. He stared warily up at her, preparing himself for her to tell him she was too sore to perform her wifely duties tonight. She would remind him if he was a gentleman he would accede to her wishes as he was the one responsible for her condition in the first place. It would not be an unreasonable request on her part, he acknowledged reluctantly, even as his gut twisted in denial at his unwelcome conclusion.

  “Nathan?” His name emerged in a drowsy, sleep-drugged whisper.

  “Yes?”

  “Can we? Do you think it would be all right if we…?” Her voice trailed off as a fiery blush stained her cheeks. Her innocence and inexperience made her too embarrassed to be able to continue.

  In response, his hold tightened around her and he rubbed his hard member against the sweet opening that beckoned. She moaned and sat up until she was straddling him. His eyes feasted on the view of her heavy breasts rising and falling now with her rising passion, her hair in tangled disarray around her face. She threw her head back and the tinkling of bells surrounded them, a soft echo against the loud hammering of his heart. He lifted her hips and fitted himself at her damp opening even as he raised his head to take one straining breast into his mouth.

  Rhiann moaned as he entered her in one swift thrust, a riot of emotions coursing through her she couldn’t put a name to. Pain warred with pleasure until the two merged into one fierce emotion and she couldn’t tell if it was exquisite pain or exquisite pleasure overwhelming her. “Nathan, God Nathan, please, I can’t wait any longer.”

  She begged him to give her release from the unquenchable force building within her. Rhiann thought she might literally die of pain if he left her now, if she woke alone in bed and this turned out to be just another dream, a fantasy to chase away the dark memories of the past few weeks and months.

  Nathan needed no further urging. He held her hips and thrust himself into her glorious heat again and again until he felt her explode above him, his name a breathless cry on his wife’s lips. Only then did he let his own orgasm wash over him and cleanse him of the pain and loneliness of his prior life.

  She was panting as she collapsed against his chest, and then without warning burst into chaotic tears. Since she was unable to see his expression where she lay sprawled across his chest, Nathan thought it safe to smile as his wife flooded his chest, understanding the intensity of their lovemaking overwhelmed her. He was not unaffected by their lovemaking either, but he was more inclined to shout his satisfaction than cry over it.

  He stroked his wife’s soft skin beneath the blanket of her hair, amused at the sound of the bells as they quieted into a softer sound from the wild cacophony that rang out earlier when they were fully engaged with their passions. He was growing rather fond of the tiny crystal and silver bells linked together along a delicate chain and then woven through his wife’s silken hair. He had yet to get her explanation for the bells, and decided he could wait a little while longer. The flow of her tears slowed to a trickle against his chest and he felt his wife’s breath whisper across his skin as a heartfelt sigh passed through her.

  “Nathan?” He liked the way she whispered his name in her soft feminine voice, deeper now, husky from sleep and passion.

  “Yes, wife.”

  “Can we go home soon?”

  He suspected this was going to become an oft-repeated exchange between them. “I cannot leave London until the king releases me from his service.”

  “Do you think that will be soon?”

  He disliked squelching the hope in her voice, especially since there was so little for her to hope for lately, but he was even more loathe to raise expectations he was in no position to fulfill. “I don’t know, Rhiann. The king hasn’t confided his plans to me.”

  “I’m sorry to keep pestering you. It’s only…” Her voice broke once before she quickly regained control of her grief. “They wouldn’t let me stay to bury my mother. I just need to know she’s up on the ridge, under the old willow tree, beside my father and brothers, near the chapel. That’s what she wanted more than anything…even to be with me. She wanted to be with him. I guess she knew…”

  Her voice trailed off again, and Nathan found himself struggling to keep up with his wife’s rambling revelations. He was too busy fighting to control his fury over the affront his fellow countrymen gave his wife by removing her from her home before she could see to the arrangements for her mother’s burial. Was such a courtesy not common decency, whether the person be Norman or Saxon? Concealing his anger with an effort, he asked mildly. “You guess she knew what?”

  Rhiann shrugged against him.

  He already discovered his wife’s habit of shrugging at him was her way of evading his questions. He leaned up and lifted her chin so she would look at him. “You guess she knew what?” He repeated more insistently this time.

  His wife avoided his searching gaze when she answered him. “I guess she knew your king meant to marry her to a Norman knight. She couldn’t…she wouldn’t be able to…she couldn’t bear…”

  He took pity on his gentle bride. “She couldn’t bear the thought of sharing a bed with a Norman?”

  Rhiann dropped her head back against his chest and nodded against him. “She didn’t tell me. Do you think I should have been with her? Do you think I was a coward for not dying in defense of Heaven’s Crest?”

  Nathan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His response was instinctive, with no thought to how his brutal honesty would sound to his wife. “No, Rhiann. I think it was your mother who took the coward’s way out leaving you alone to face the consequences.”

  She needed no prodding this time to raise her head and search his gaze. “Truly? You don’t think…last night… you don’t think I shouldn’t have…”

  Was there no end to the foolish anxieties his wife’s busy little mind would come up with? “Rhiann, you’re my wife.” He waited for her solemn nod to acknowledge his truth. “It is a grave sin to refuse your lord his husbandly rights.”

  Her lips twitched at his serious tone and a sudden light danced through her eyes. He though
t it was just an illusion of the shadows cast by the fire until a joyful little laugh escaped her lips. “A grave sin, Nathan?”

  An answering smile lit his face. “Absolutely. Imagine your embarrassment when you were forced to confess such a serious transgression to the priest.”

  Laughter erupted from her lips, joined in its happy song by the bells woven through her hair. The warmth of a blush lit her face even as her green eyes danced with amusement. “Really, Nathan I would do no such thing. The priest would likely be more embarrassed than I if I attempted to bring up such a private topic in the confessional.”

  Nathan was just as certain she was wrong, but refrained from commenting on her naivety. “Since it’s unlikely you will ever have to confess such a sin to Father Bernard, we will never know.”

  “Father Bernard?”

  “Father Bernard is the name of the priest who married us, wife. Don’t you recall?”

  Rhiann blushed at her slip. The priest’s name was the last thing on her mind last night. She was too worried about the possibility of Nathan demanding his husbandly rights to inquire after the name of the priest conducting the ceremony. “Oh. I suppose I should go and re-introduce myself tomorrow after mass. Do you know the hour daily mass is celebrated?”

  “No.”

  Her husband’s bald reply startled her. “No? You truly do not know?”

  “I have more important things to see to, wife.”

  Her shocked expression amused him. “More important than seeing to your soul?”

  “As it happens I have a wife now, so I believe in the eyes of the church it is your duty to see to the care of my eternal soul.”

  She failed to grasp the fact he was teasing her. “Yes, yes of course. In that case I better become better acquainted with Father Bernard as soon as possible.”

  Nathan laughed at the genuine worry in her voice. “I was only joking wife. Do not concern yourself with my soul.”

  She appeared aghast at his suggestion. “But Nathan, it is as you said. I’m your wife. It’s my duty to pray for you.”

  He liked the idea of her praying for him. He was certain God would be more inclined to listen to the prayers of his gentle little wife than he would the prayers of a man who made his living waging war.

  “All right, wife, you may have the care of my soul, but at the moment I am far more concerned with the more immediate care of my body.” He nuzzled the side of her neck. Rhiann could feel him growing hard inside her.

  “Really Nathan I don’t know when I’m going to find time to care for your soul when my other wifely duties seem to be taking up so much of my time.”

  “You’re not performing your wifely duties now, wife.” He began moving inside her. Rhiann felt her breath quicken as his strong hand slid down between their joined bodies and stroked the very core of her. She couldn’t suppress a moan of pleasure as she tightened around him.

  “I’m not?” She retained a thread of their conversation before her head became too heavy to hold upright. She dropped against him.

  He continued to stroke her as he turned his head to the side and kissed his way up the tender column of her throat and whispered dark promises in her ear, “No, wife. You are not performing your wifely duties now. I am generously performing my duties as your husband.”

  No saucy reply was forthcoming to his bold proclamation. Nathan wasn’t even sure his wife heard him. She was moving insistently against his probing hand. Her breath came in short gasps of pleasure. “I don’t understand.” She whispered against his flesh, her tongue circling his nipple and forcing a groan of intense pleasure from him.

  Now he was the one having trouble keeping up with their conversation. “You don’t understand what wife?”

  She moved her attention to his other nipple, circling around and around, before capturing the swollen member between her teeth. In an instant he switched their positions so she was beneath him. He lifted her hips high on his legs and pumped furiously into her, giving full rein to his passion. His wife voiced no objection to his rough treatment of her. Instead she arched up against him and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. Her eyes opened and held his in their smoky depths just as her release claimed her. She tightened around him and he watched as she surrendered completely to his insistent passion, his name a breathless scream on her lips as he took her over the edge.

  He watched entranced as she drifted down from heaven, a soft smile curving her lips, even as she opened dreamy eyes to mesh with his. It was only then she seemed to become aware he had yet to share in her release. “Nathan?” His name emerged anxiously from her lips. “You didn’t…I didn’t…Are you angry with me? Did I do something wrong?”

  He was hurting too much from the strain of holding back for him to explain he wanted to watch her fly in his arms, and then come slowly back to him. So instead he showed her. He forced himself to go slow. The tiny ripples still surrounding him, still squeezing him where he rested deep within her, were fighting his inclination to take her up again, slowly this time so they could jump together off the nearest cloud. He pushed back into her.

  Her green eyes widened with understanding. “We can…we can…” Her breathless voice, filled with desire and anticipation was nearly his undoing.

  “Yes, we most definitely can.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  It wasn’t until the following afternoon he realized he had yet to gain his wife’s explanation about the significance of the bells and the dagger. The strangers who presented them to his wife absented themselves as soon as Rhiann took off on the black yesterday so they were no longer around to enlighten him. Nathan still didn’t know who they were and what connection they had if any to his wife and her grandmother. Did Rhiann’s grandmother simply engage them to deliver a message? The more he thought about it, the more his assumption made sense. Surely a Saxon duke would not have been wed to the daughter of a Salusian queen.

  At least he would not be forced to face his wife’s disappointment when he confessed to her he lost her stallion. The black lingered on the grassy hills surrounding the city as if waiting for Rhiann to take him on another gallop across the countryside. Since Nathan had no intention of allowing that to happen he wondered how long the horse would wait.

  At the moment though it was one of his wife’s more pressing revelations distracting him from his duties. He was inexplicably insulted by the fact his wife was removed from her family home without the comfort of a maid or traveling bag to see to her needs on the journey, but he found unforgivable the fact Rhiann was taken from her home before she was able to see to her mother’s burial.

  He prayed the duke’s remaining servants had seen to that unwelcome chore, but even if he was unable to take her home, Nathan could give his wife the comfort of knowing her mother was laid to rest in death beside the husband she was so desperate to reunite with she committed a form of suicide. He wondered if the king knew and thought to confide as much to him before he thought up some unpleasant consequence for the man who brought about the duchess’ death.

  Nathan longed to take the journey himself. On a fast steed he could make the round trip to London in under a week, but Rhiann would never forgive him for not taking her with him and she was too exhausted to make the trip at such a grueling pace. So he reluctantly assigned the duty to Archibald and a small contingent of his men.

  He had no intention of telling his wife about their journey until his men returned home with the news her mother was buried exactly where she longed to be, even if his men were forced to dig up her remains from wherever she was laid to rest and move her next to the duke’s resting place. In that eventuality there was no reason for his wife to ever know her mother began her eternity anywhere else besides at the top of the ridge, beneath the old willow tree, next to the chapel, between her fallen husband and sons.

  Ironically it was the queen who first heard Rhiann’s explanation of the traditions surrounding the bells in her hair and the dagger she now wore strapped to her arm. After a long day
spent training his men and several surprisingly not unpleasant conversations with men of now equal rank, Nathan finally made his way back to the keep. He was looking forward to a hearty meal, a cool glass of ale and a long satisfying evening giving his wife further instruction in regards to her wifely duties. He hoped William was not inclined to linger late into the night this evening.

  A smile curved his lips at his change in attitude. Prior to his marriage he took great delight in the king’s company, and was anxious to be of service in even the smallest matters. He wondered if the king noticed his distraction lately and thought he should make amends for his inattention lest William think having been awarded the lands of Rhiann’s father, Nathan no longer intended to be as diligent a servant as he was in the past.

  The opportunity for such a conversation appeared instantly, as if the good lord was indeed privy to his thoughts lately and was following them with great interest. The king was leaving the new abbey and returning to the keep just as Nathan was passing in the same direction. William hailed him and Nathan paused to give the king and his guard time to catch up.

  When William approached, Nathan noticed his friend eyeing him curiously and intently. After a long silent perusal he seemed to find himself satisfied with what he saw, nodded as if confirming to himself a previously held, but undisclosed opinion, then greeted his friend.

  “Nathan, I was hoping to run into you. I’ve missed your company these past few days.” William’s booming voice was genial and Nathan was grateful he thought he heard amusement, rather than anger underlying it.

  “My lord, yes, I wished to speak to you about the very same thing.” Despite their years as friends and companions, Nathan was always acutely conscious of the wide gulf between them. William was his king. Nathan his obedient and loyal servant.

  William laughed aside Nathan’s discomfort. “I was only joking with you, Nathan. I would be very disappointed in you, my friend, if you found my company more to your liking than your young wife’s.”