“I pray it is so,” Aisley said. “I tell you true, I miss tending to the villagers, but learning how to please Lord Danford has been more rewarding than I’d expected.”
“You needn’t learn how to please me,” Garrick said, striding into the room. “You already do.”
“It is good to see you, milord,” Aisley addressed, feigning a calm she did not feel. “I was beginning to worry. You’ve been gone longer than usual.”
“You needn’t have worried. I stayed in Fernley for most of the day because the tavern caught fire. The poor fellow and his family were left without an abode or means of living. I invited them to reside in Danford. Work will be found for them and a home will be built.”
“It was good of you to take care of them,” Aisley said.
“I could do nothing less.”
Garrick went to a livery cupboard where servants had arranged an assortment of foods, a pitcher of the earl’s favored wine and some spiced cider. Aisley watched as he poured himself a cup of sustenance and drank in long, thirsty pulls.
“Would you like to play chess, milord?” she offered. Garrick looked distracted. Something was different in the way he walked into the room and she hoped his favorite game would comfort him.
“Not this eve, my lady. I’m in need of a bath and rest. Would you be offended if I decided to retire early?”
“Nay, do whatever you think best,” she assured, although she was disappointed. Garrick wasn’t looking at her. Had he forgotten his request earlier that morn?
“Thank you for understanding. I shall see you in the morn when we visit Angelica,” he replied, at last looking at her, but only for a moment before turning away. After whispering something to Lucien, Garrick bowed out of the room, the cup of wine still in his hand.
I have not forgotten, little one. I will come when my bath is complete, unless you wish to join me?
Your suggestion assumes too much, milord. Mayhap your arrogance needs to be cooled before we can continue as we had last eve. Aisley returned her thoughts. She heard nothing in reply.
Once Garrick was gone, Lucien invited Aisley to join him in a game of chess. Aisley thought it would be nice to compete against someone other than the Earl and reclaimed her seat.
Behaving the gentleman, Lucien offered a mug of cider before they began and she accepted. Although he was a gallant competitor and far more experienced, Aisley thought she might actually win. But she soon miscalculated and was defeated yet again.
Frowning, Aisley bowed her head in tribute to the better player and silently vowed that her strategy would grow stronger over time. She’d like to improve and make Garrick proud of her efforts.
“If it’s any consolation, Aisley, you are improving,” Lady Hunter said when the game ended. “You made my husband pause a time or two.”
“I offer my tutelage at any time,” Lucien said.
“You are gracious, milord. Mayhap we can play another eve? It’s been a long day and I’d like to return to my chambers.”
Lucien nodded, offering a mischievous smile. “You may go. I’ll keep my wife occupied,” he whispered, covering his intent with a sip of wine.
Aware of heat flooding her cheeks Aisley stood, straightening her skirts. Quietly, she bid her guardians goodnight and left.
Nearing the corridor to her room, she glanced about the candlelit hallway, pausing and looking about for any servants. The corridor was quiet. Elethea would sleep in the physician’s quarters for a few more nights. No one would know if she decided to visit Garrick’s quarters.
Decision made, Aisley lifted her skirts and dashed toward Garrick’s residence. She quite nearly stumbled in her haste, but soon slowed for fear of catching someone’s notice.
Built to resemble a small Norman castle, the manor house was fitted with several towers, the Earl’s among them. Aisley found the narrow stone stairway to his room and crept upward. Climbing the stairs, she braced herself for what she’d find behind the closed door.
She did not expect to hear Sir Knight’s roar.
“Milord, are you there?” Aisley called out softly.
“I’m here and alone, enter anon,” he invited, his voice rumbling.
Concerned, she opened the door and saw a big curtained bed across the room. Moving further though the doorway, she looked about the cavernous chamber until she found Garrick submerged in a giant wooden tub. Only a few candles were lit, allowing her to see his face and part of his shoulders. The rest of his body was hidden by the tub and his long unbound hair.
“I’m pleased you’ve come,” Garrick said. “Does this mean you’re willing to join me in my bath?”
“Nay,” Aisley refused at first. Looking upon Garrick as he reclined, she noticed the throbbing of a vein in his temple. “Is something amiss? You seemed troubled when you came into the solar.”
“Nothing that should alarm you,” he said. “It will heal.”
“What will heal?” Aisley rushed toward the tub and discovered her answer. Carefully, she touched her finger to his shoulder, sweeping his damp hair aside. “You’ve been burned.” A deep wound had scorched his skin. A flicker of candlelight sparked an odd glow on the back of his shoulder, but it disappeared when he shrugged and shifted a little to his right.
“The tavern owner’s youngest daughter was caught in the kitchens. No one realized that she was missing until I heard her cry out. By the Lord’s grace, I was able to save her.”
“Garrick, you’re a hero.” Spying a chair, she hooked it with her foot, scooted it closer and sat beside the tub. “A gallant one, I might add.”
“I did what any man would have done.”
“Hmm, well, you’ve come to the aid of a child twice since we met. Truth be told, if anyone were to realize how dedicated you are to protecting Danford, they’d know you come to the aid of others daily. Now let me tend your wound before it can fester.”
“It’s not necessary.” Garrick made to pull away just as Aisley bent closer and the minor scuffle caused water to splash over the sides of the tub.
“Careful,” she warned. “I’ll be gentle, Garrick.”
“You needn’t worry. I’ve already tended to my shoulder,” he said, gesturing with his chin toward his shoulder. “Sustenance proves more than adequate for cleaning a wound.”
Aisley stared at his shoulder, gasping when she saw the burn mark. “Dear goodness!” The wound looked as though it had been healing for more than a sennight. “How is that possible?”
“Abcynians heal quickly. By morn there will barely be a scar,” Garrick said. He shrugged, his shoulder moving easier with each breath. “Sustenance heals, though it burns like bloody hell when applied to a wound.”
“That explains what I’d heard in the stairwell.” Aisley couldn’t believe what she’d seen, what she was still seeing. She blinked and looked once again, noticing the changes already taking place from a moment ago.
But wait, there it was again, she thought. A slight glow in his skin caught her eye. She was about to ask him about it when he doused his arm in water and his hair swirled around him, blocking her view. His skin soon looked normal again and she wondered if the flickering candlelight was playing tricks on her.
“Any remedy I’d have used would have hurt just as much,” she said. Strangely, she was offended that he had not turned to her to heal his wound. She was his betrothed. It should have been her right to assist him.
“Do not think that way, Aisley.” Garrick’s warm, wet hand covered hers where it continued to rest on his muscular shoulder. “I tended to the wound because I intended to come to you after I finished my bath.”
“Does that mean you were teasing me in the solar?” she asked. “You didn’t want me to come to you?”
“You know I did. I heard your thoughts, Aisley. I know you were disappointed when I kept myself from you. My shoulder was hurting and I was worried I would say the wrong thing. I’m pleased you came to me tonight.”
“I wonder why I cannot hear your thoughts a
s clearly as you hear mine,” she said.
He removed his hand from hers and touched his forefinger to her chin. The scent of clean water mixed with spice tickled her nose. Intrigued, Aisley leaned a little closer and inhaled. Briefly she was tempted to bend down and kiss his injured shoulder just to see if his skin tasted cinnamon. Licking her lips, she hoped he couldn’t tell how fast her heart was racing or how much she wanted to be closer.
“Sometimes I must hide my thoughts from you, little one.” His fingers curled about her chin and jaw, keeping her steady. “You are not ready to listen to what I’d say. You are only beginning to trust me. I do not wish to frighten you away again.”
“If you tell me about yourself, my trust will grow,” she said. “You continue to keep things from me. Mayhap you think I will judge you harshly for whatever you may have done in the past. I know not. Be assured that your secrets cannot possibly make me see you as any less of a man. Look at what you’ve done for a family you barely knew. You saved the owner’s youngest child. Surely there’s nothing to worry about.”
Garrick lowered his hand. “Mayhap there is.”
“Share your concerns with me, Garrick, please.”
He was silent for a bit as he thought, his eyes averted to the hot water. “The leopard rescued the child. I worry that she’ll remember what she saw.”
“Sir Knight was there? Was he injured?”
“Sir Knight’s injury was identical to mine.”
“I don’t understand,” she murmured. “How can that be?”
“It doesn’t matter how. His wound is healing and it pleases me to know you’re concerned about the leopard.”
“How could I not be? I find myself talking to him when you’re not about. Sir Knight has been a friend. A strange one, I admit, but a friend nonetheless.”
“Always remember, what he knows, I know.”
“You’ve said the same before.” Aisley had learned to accept that Garrick and Sir Knight had an unusual bond. She’d witnessed much in her life. Miracles, death, birth, laughter and tears, yet knowing the leopard was in Danford made her feel safe when Garrick and his guards were scouring the countryside searching for anything that might threaten her or the manor.
If the villagers learned of the leopard, some would consider him evil because he was savage and had black fur. She didn’t know why, but she was not inclined to believe such a thing about Sir Knight. She thought he was as intelligent as a human and that would frighten people more than the color of his fur.
“Garrick, tell me more about you. You’re so secretive that at times I think I shall never understand you. Share something of yourself with me. Mayhap then I’ll know what I really mean to you.” Wishing she’d held her tongue, Aisley braced herself for rebuke. Lady Hunter told her not to ask such things of Lord Danford.
“You’re right. I haven’t told you how I feel,” he admitted, much to her surprise. He lifted his chin and their eyes met. His were luminous with desire, the green of his gaze capturing her attention and drawing her in.
Staring into his eyes, she came to believe that Garrick wanted her as his lover, his fated mate and his countess. It was all there for her to see and feel, to hear in her mind. The truth hit her with such force her womb contracted and the petals of her womanhood fluttered open as drops of feminine dew slid from her opening and dampened her inner thighs.
She was glad her gown hid the wetness, but felt certain that he knew what was happening to her. His eyes widened, his nostrils flared and his wide, masculine mouth parted so that she could see his teeth. For the first time she noticed that his canine teeth were slightly longer, sharper, yet she found that trait intriguing.
You really do want me, she said in their way. Amazed and thrilled, her entire body began to tremble with awareness. Never before had she been aware of herself as a woman, a woman who could tempt the Earl of Danford to sin.
Listen to my thoughts, little one, they are for you. I do want you. I will always want you, never doubt that or think that the pleasures we shall have are sinful. It is right for us to mate, Aisley. By Abcynian law you are already mine, don’t be afraid to join yourself with me when you are ready.
“I don’t know when I’ll be ready,” she said aloud. “You must realize it is best for us to be careful. Lucien knows we intended to meet in private. What if Lady Hunter or the servants learn the truth?”
“Lucien will guard his tongue. Having you here is my right. I’ll not hear of anyone saying otherwise.” With the noble arrogance granted to him at birth, Garrick emerged from the depths of the tub, climbing out to leave a puddle of water on the stone floor at his big, bare feet.
“Oh my, you’re naked!” Of course Garrick would be naked in a bathtub, Aisley admonished herself, even as she bit down on her lip to refrain from gaping like a fish. Mayhap some people bathed clothed and some didn’t bathe at all, but there was nothing hesitant about this man.
In truth, he was splendid. His long wet hair hung down his broad shoulders, raining droplets of water over his muscular chest, arms and legs. Even his large feet were elegant, clean, the nails kept short. Aisley imagined he would resemble a Roman god with his sleek, sculpted muscles and strong facial features. Unlike a god, Garrick was a man. He was flesh and blood, smelled of bathwater and cinnamon. Curling her fingers into her skirts, she fought the need to touch him, to draw him to her and taste him as she’d longed to do when she saw his burned shoulder.
“Touch me, Aisley,” he invited, his voice raw and hoarse.
“I shouldn’t.”
“I’m not a god. I’m real. If you touch me, I’ll shiver. If you stand close to me, I’ll want to gather you close and kiss you.”
“I’m well aware that you are real,” she insisted, feeling a sudden, almost painful pressure in her abdomen that grew tighter and tighter as she stood there, openly staring at a naked man.
Uncertain what to do or where to look, she tried to concentrate on his chest. Like the night before, the dusting of hair beckoned her fingers to explore his copper nipples that had hardened into twin pebbles.
“Aisley, come to me,” Garrick demanded.
“I think it best if I bring you something to cover your…nakedness.”
“I like being naked,” Garrick said.
Ever confident, he remained by the tub. Droplets of water dusted his shoulders, chest hair, arms and abdomen. Her eyes followed the trail of one drop until it reached the arrow of dark hair that descended from his navel to his manhood.
Nay, she wouldn’t follow its path. She wouldn’t!
She did!
“Should leave,” she mumbled. Retreating, she stepped backward and into the chair, even though she stared at the whole of him. Lord help her, she couldn’t look away. Having tended men of varying ages, she should have been prepared for the sight of a man’s genitals. Garrick was neither a boy nor an elderly man, and he wasn’t ill. He was a magnificent, healthy man whose shaft was proportioned to his massive height and stature.
She wasn’t small, but she wondered if Garrick’s weight would crush her. Secretly, she feared that she would disappoint him if they copulated! She couldn’t possibly take a man like him inside of her body. Surely he wouldn’t fit.
“Ah, Aisley, do not think of such things.” Garrick turned as he spoke, revealing the silhouette of his elongated masculinity and she pulled her eyes away and stared at his face. Strain and need lined his mouth, beckoning her to caress him, to comfort him if she could. “You need never to worry about disappointing me. We were meant to be mated, little one. I promise, you will be able to take me when we consummate our pairing.”
“You do not mean now, do you?” she asked, realizing what he’d said.
“As last eve, permission shall be yours to give.”
Aisley wasn’t certain what to do. Thinking it best to do something other than stare at Garrick, she strode away and grabbed a towel.
“Don’t you have a manservant to attend you?”
“He’s gone unt
il morn. There’s no need to concern ourselves with him.”
As bravely as she could, Aisley carried the towel to Garrick. He accepted it and wrapped the cloth about his narrow hips as if his nakedness mattered not at all.
The meager cover didn’t help matters, she soon discovered. The towel bulged right where it covered his hardened shaft. Her skin felt aflame and all she could do was stand there and tremble while her heart thumped madly, her breath caught in her throat.
“I’ll wear the towel for now,” he said. “But you must get used to seeing me naked, I sleep unclothed.”
“You didn’t last eve. I happen to like sleeping in a chemise.”
“You like it because it is familiar.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“True. Do not fret, soon you’ll be more at ease sleeping naked with me. That is our bed, Aisley. I want you to become used to it because there will be few exceptions when you will be permitted to sleep elsewhere.”
He pointed to the bed, drawing her gaze to the silver curtains surrounding the enormous frame. “Do you mean we are to sleep together even after we are wed? I thought husband and wives of the nobility did not share quarters.”
“It matters not what takes place in other marriages,” he admitted. “Ours will not be just a noble marriage, Aisley. When I came to you last night, it was with the intention of seducing you, but you were not ready. I accepted that and will continue to do so. I want you to get to know me as more than the Earl of Danford. I want you to know me as a man. Here in our bed, I can teach you all you ever need to know about me.”
Talk of the bed intrigued her. It looked so inviting and comfortable. She could picture herself lying there beside Garrick Forrester, her husband, for the rest of their lives. She shouldn’t want that so soon in their relationship, but she did.
“Did you have the bed made for you?” she asked to change the subject.
“Aye, English beds are too small for me. An Abcynian craftsman carved this one from special wood. Notice the dark grain that reveals the grapevine artwork on the bedposts.”
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