Dragon's Dower

by Catherine Archer

  Isabelle gasped as Simon came into her, crying out with longing as he began to move in a rhythm that made the sensations build until there was nothing but the ecstasy that exploded in her mind, her body, her soul. And she knew that he, too, was overcome with his passion as he stiffened above her, gasping out his bliss.

  She lay beneath him, her eyes closed, reveling in pulses of pleasure that continued to take her as their passion ebbed. But as it passed away she began to realize just how mad they had been to let desire make them take this chance.

  As he had each time their joining was done, Simon rolled to his side pulling Isabelle into his arms, and cradling her head against his hard shoulder. He knew she would move away as she always did.

  To his surprise that did not happen. Instead Isabelle looked up at him, her expression troubled.

  Simon tried to concentrate on that rather than his own disquieting sense of happiness. He traced one finger over the crease on her brow. “What troubles you, Isabelle?”

  She bit her lower lip. “Simon, we are mad to take this risk. I know you do not wish to listen to me but I must make you understand that my father is most serious in his intent to do you harm.”

  He shook his head. “I will be fine.”

  She raised up, her glorious hair falling around her and Simon felt a new stirring at her beauty. But her words brought him up short. “He is capable of doing anything Simon. I know. To think yourself beyond his reach is to court death with open arms.”

  Looking into those lavender eyes, Simon, for the first time, realized the depth of her fear. He realized in fact that it had been there all along and he had only been too blind to see it. What he had taken as blind obedience had been utter fear.

  He reached out to pull her back against him as he felt a wave of protectiveness coupled with regret. For he knew this fear was not something Isabelle could easily overcome. She would ever have a suspicion of others, would ever be expecting the worst for she had seen just what evil man was capable of doing to another. No matter how much her life changed she would never forget her caution because it was her way of protecting herself. His arms tightened around her. If only she would trust in him.

  But he knew that would never be.

  Simon waited until Isabelle had fallen asleep, preferring not to wake her but reasoned that if he did so he would say he was returning to the stable for the night. Silently he rose and pulled on his clothing. It was more important than ever for him to meet with Jarrod. He had to find a way to get himself and Isabelle away from here.

  Simon was able to exit the keep with surprisingly little difficulty. Sir Edmund’s duty to see that the stable lads consumed several cups of ale with him had obviously been successful. All slept soundly through the process of readying his horse. There was only one brief moment of anxiety as the guard who patrolled the section of wall above the postern gate came toward him but he was distracted by a rattling noise and went off in the other direction for long enough for Simon to exit the keep.

  Simon felt a stab of guilt as he rode toward the lodge, the moon lighting the now familiar path. Though he knew that there was no real reason for feeling thusly.

  He betrayed Isabelle in no way by meeting with Jarrod. It would be different if his intent was to do anything against Kelsey.

  Yet the feeling persisted. Perhaps it was because of all that had passed between them this very night. Isabelle had been softer somehow, more open to him than ever before. He thought of how he had left her, asleep in the bed where they had just made love with such tender passion.

  Perhaps his guilt was brought on by his having hidden his intention to meet with Jarrod from her. Perhaps if he had told Isabelle where he was going and what he was doing he would feel differently?

  Simon shook his head to clear it. He could not tell her. He risked Jarrod’s life in the event of her revealing the meeting, even inadvertently. He must concentrate on the task at hand.

  Simon arrived at the cottage earlier than the appointed time. He dismounted and tied his horse where he had each time he was here.

  When he was with Isabelle.

  It was not long before he heard the sounds that heralded the approach of a horse. Simon tensed, knowing that it could be someone from the keep. As Jarrod broke through the trees he smiled in relief and welcome. For the sight of him was very welcome indeed after these weeks of confinement.

  Jarrod leapt down, grasping his friend’s hand even as he threw an arm about his shoulders to clap him heartily upon the back. “You are here, Simon.”

  Simon smiled returning the gesture before he stepped back to say, “Aye, else why would I bid you to come?”

  He frowned, his black eyes flashing anger. “When one is a prisoner there is a great distance between making plans and carrying them out.”

  Simon grimaced. “You have me there, but I am not so closely held as that. I could, in fact, have left Dragonwick ere this if it were not for jeopardizing Avington. Have you heard any word from Christian?”

  Jarrod shook his head with obvious frustration. “Not one word.”

  Simon rubbed a hand across his forehead. He could well understand his friend’s frustration, but he knew that he must control it, for if he was correct, Jarrod had already made one mad attempt against the earl. Simon spoke carefully. “Jarrod, there is something I must ask you.”

  The other man seemed to sense something in his voice for he became very still. “Yes.”

  Simon faced him directly. “Kelsey is saying that he was fired upon when out riding. He did not see the assailant, but he did find a brooch with a dragon upon it that is exactly as mine, and thus yours.” His gaze went to Jarrod’s shoulder where the pin was conspicuously absent.

  Jarrod arched disdainful black brows high. “Did he also tell you that he was upon your land at the time? That he was ‘questioning’ one of your landholders as to the number of men garrisoned at the keep?”

  “Kelsey at Avington! Is the man all right?” No wonder Jarrod had fired upon him. Simon would have done the same.

  Jarrod nodded. “Aye, only frightened.” He hit his fist against his palm. “Kelsey is a coward, sneaking about like a fox in the night. I would not have known of it lest I had been out hunting to pass the time. Your steward is very efficient.”

  Simon could hardly think past his horror that the bastard was making free to roam his lands at will, to torment his folk. No wonder he had been gone so much from the keep before his illness. “Kelsey is not waiting until his plans for my death have been satisfied before making himself familiar with his new acquisition.”

  “What are you saying, Simon? It sounds like there is more than speculation as to Kelsey’s intent in your voice.”

  Simon nodded. “Aye, I have learned that he plans to have me killed once Isabelle is with child and his guardianship of the lands assured.”

  Jarrod shook his head. “Then it is surely providence that led you to decide not to bed her.”

  Simon was silent.

  His friend looked at him. “You have not bedded her!”

  Still Simon said nothing and Jarrod began to pace the floor before him. “Are you mad? What could have possessed you to do such a thing?”

  Simon frowned. “I am not prepared to discuss that.”

  “Has this woman given you cause to think she would turn allegiance over to you?”

  Simon shook his head. “Nay. She is, I think, too afraid of her father to do so.”

  “Then you are doubly a fool. You know full well how ill she will have been taught.”

  Short weeks ago he would have felt much the same as his friend. Now knowing how very difficult it had been for Isabelle, how she did secretly long to break those bonds of fear, he could not feel thusly. “You know not of what you say, Jarrod, and I would have you mind yourself when speaking of my wife.” He could hear the edge in his voice.

  Jarrod stopped pacing to stare at him. “Dear God, it can not be.”

  Simon frowned. “That I would expect some measur
e of courtesy for my lady wife?”

  “That you have fallen in love with her!”

  Simon felt as if he had been hit in the chest by a battering ram as the breath left his lungs and his head spun. In love with Isabelle!

  God, yes, it was true. He did love her, even though he had done all he could to keep from loving her. He’d even held the signs of loving kindness he’d seen in her suspect when he would not have if it were anyone else. From the start he’d known it would only complicate everything.

  Even when he’d made her his wife in truth he’d held himself back from her, told himself it was because she could not give enough of herself to be a proper mistress to his folk, who deserved a woman of warmth and care. Her recent actions during her father’s illness had shown she was far from the selfish dame he’d tried to paint her.

  It had not been his folk he had thought to protect. But his heart.

  Simon took a long shuddering breath. What was he to do now?

  A great sense of loneliness swept over Simon.

  “Simon, are you all right?”

  He heard Jarrod’s voice as if from a long distance away. He looked up at his friend whose face was full of concern. With as much self-possession as he could manage Simon said, “I am fine. Only a bit dazed, I think. I had not imagined…”

  He could not continue, could not speak to Jarrod of this hopeless, one-sided love. The realization of it was just too fresh—too painful.

  He drew himself up. “I must do something about the situation. I can no longer wait for Christian. Something must have happened.”

  Jarrod nodded. “Aye, he would not have delayed so long lest there be some reason.”

  Simon stood. “I must go to King John myself, tell him what has occurred at Avington and lay myself at his mercy, promise him any boon. But I must be free of Kelsey.”

  It was in fact imperative. As long as Isabelle resided under her father’s roof, she would never be able to put aside her fear and it was suddenly most important to Simon that she do so. At least in part. He knew that love was more than he could expect from one who had been forced to hold all of herself inside. But perhaps, if they were away from here, there might be some hope that she would come to have some measure of ease in his company.

  Unknowing of his tormented thoughts, Jarrod said, “I will come with you and tell what I know.”

  Simon shook his head. “I mean you no slight, my friend, but your presence would not aid me and you might only succeed in bringing John’s wrath upon your own head in the event that I am unable to convince him of the truth.”

  Jarrod raised his head high. “I am not afraid of what might happen.”

  Simon reached out to put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “That has never been questioned in my mind, Jarrod. I simply do not wish to see ill come to you for naught. Were this a battle we fought with men of honor I would have no hesitation in asking you to take my back. Since it is not, I beg you to think on how you would feel if I were to offer to do the same.”

  His friend sighed. “I would never allow you to act so foolishly on my behalf.”

  “Aye.” Simon looked away. “I shall simply have to do my own convincing.”

  Jarrod shook his head. “But you tried before and it came to naught.”

  Simon was all too aware of this fact. Yet he said none of this aloud. “Kelsey is ill. He has been in bed for some days. I will go now while he is unable to put in an appearance. Mayhap if I can gain the king’s ear without him there he will listen to what I have to say.”

  Jarrod shrugged. “Simon, have you given any thought to the fact that even if the king does heed you, you will not be free of Kelsey?”

  Simon nodded. “I have thought on little else. But there is now nothing I can do on that.”

  And he realized how true it was. No matter how he hated Kelsey, or how great an opportunity to avenge himself, The Dragon, and all those who had been harmed by the earl, Simon could never take advantage of it.

  In spite of her fear and hatred of her father, Isabelle would never forgive him for doing such a thing. For there was a part of her that loved her father and always would.

  “Now that he has set his sights upon Avington, he will never rest in efforts to take it as long as he lives. He will be as ruthless as he was in getting Dragonwick. It is his way.”

  Simon could not deny that.

  Well, it would never happen as long as Simon was alive. Simon had no intention of dying, not for a very long time, long after the earl was rotting in his own grave.

  He gave himself a metal shake looking to Jarrod. “I ask only one thing of you, Jarrod.”

  “Aye.”

  “Make no more attempts on Kelsey’s life. Even if he has the temerity to come upon my lands we must be willing to let that pass, lest he so oversteps himself that he attacks the very keep. If he does that, your presence at Avington will be invaluable. Competent as the steward may be, he would have little notion of the best way to withstand an attack, or even a siege.”

  Jarrod scowled as he nodded, his hand going to his sword hilt. “Does he attack Avington it shall be my personal pleasure to see him repaid for all his misdeeds.”

  Simon could not deny that the very thought made his own blood pound. Yet he did not allow himself to dwell on this thought because of the pain he knew such a situation would bring to Isabelle. He looked to the door. “I must away tomorrow night.”

  “Should you not go now, from here?’

  Simon shook his head quickly. “Nay, too much of this night is gone. I would be sooner missed.” A part of him knew that that was not the only reason. He had to see Isabelle, perhaps to hold her once more as he had this night. For in spite of his own bravado about outliving his enemy he had no way of knowing what would come from his confrontation with King John.

  What a fool he had been. He did indeed love Isabelle. When he’d told her he didn’t care if she could love, he’d only been deceiving himself as well as her. He had convinced himself he felt only a great sense of pity for all she had endured. He had desperately cared.

  Unfortunately Isabelle would never be able to fully give of herself, to him or the folk of Avington. And for that sorrow there was no cure.

  Isabelle crouched down upon Simon’s bedroll, which still lay in his stallion’s stall. She wrapped her arms about her knees, holding herself, for there was no other comfort for the misery that made her chest ache, her throat tight.

  Dear Heaven, Simon was gone.

  She had woken to find Simon dressing with a great sense of unease. It had been all she could do to pretend that she was still asleep as she had felt him watching her for a long moment in which the air had seemed charged with some indefinable emotion before he had left the room. It was this as much as anything that made her rise and take up her robe to follow him. Something told her to stay back, not to allow him to know of her presence as she moved after him.

  It was not anything overt that caused her discomfort. He had seemed perfectly at ease as he passed through the hall and she knew that it was possible that he was simply going to sleep in the stable as usual.

  Yet she knew something was amiss. It was just something in the set of his wide shoulders, in the measure of his steps.

  Perhaps, she told herself, as she carefully stepped between the sleeping servants it was because she knew his body more intimately than she did her own. Had she not run eager fingers over every inch of that hard flesh? Was she not familiar with the sometimes subtle, sometimes fierce spasms that gripped his flesh in passion?

  Not that she wished to think about any of this, not when she was feeling so uncertain of her own feelings for this man. Not when in the deepest part of herself she was wishing he had spoken some words of a future with her. Not when she feared he might be leaving Dragonwick at this very moment without so much as a goodbye.

  He owed her nothing. Though he was gentle and tender and kind she was beginning to realize this was simply Simon’s way. It did not mean he cared for her, thou
gh she had thought that he meant to hold on to her for any child they might have. Obviously he had changed his mind.

  And who would take him to task for having done so? As she had told him herself, her father meant to kill him. It would be mad for Simon to ever think of staying tied to such a family.

  The desire he clearly felt for her was not enough to risk that. Isabelle would not have him do so. Though she longed for more than desire Simon had no more to give her. Thus she would do well to remember her own plans for the future and accept things as they were.

  Yet she could not stop a feeling of betrayal that he would leave without so much as a parting word. Even though she told herself she did not know that this was what he was doing, the ache of emptiness inside her did not ease, nor did her suspicions.

  Isabelle followed him through the hall and out the oak door. Though the moon was not full there was enough light to see Simon walking in the direction of the stables. As in the hall he seemed to be in no great hurry, yet to her his eagerness was clear.

  She waited, praying he would not come out. Moments later he emerged with his horse, leading him slowly toward the postern gate. The realization that Simon was indeed leaving cut through her like a rusty sword. It burned in her chest and in her mind. The sensation was so intense that it seemed to consume itself almost instantaneously the way a hot fire will do. It was replaced with a numbness that enabled her to breathe again and to see that the guard at the top of the wall was coming back toward the postern gate. Simon had seen him, too, for he merged into the shadow of the wall, then held still.

  Something she could not explain made Isabelle bend and pick up a stone from the ground. Quickly she tossed it against the wall in the opposite direction from where Simon was headed. She saw Simon swivel toward the sound as well as the guard, who moved to investigate. Isabelle stayed carefully out of sight in the shadows and Simon moved on, leading his horse out the gate.

  Isabelle had stood staring at the spot where he had been for a long, endless moment, then turned and blindly made her way to the stables, needing only to see if he had perhaps left some small bit of him behind. Something she might keep with her in the dark years ahead.