Averill: Historical Romance (The Brocade Collection, Book 3)

by Jackie Ivie

  “Nothing,” she whispered.

  “I know you better than that. Out with it.”

  Averill felt the bed sag as he sat on it. She grimaced to her knees.

  “You’d better not be regretting last night. Because if you are, I’m going to give you a well-deserved spanking, right on that lovely little—”

  “We shouldn’t have done it, Captain,” she interrupted him.

  He snorted. “Oh. Averill. Darling. We most definitely should have. That, and more. You think the one taste is going to be enough for us? I can already answer, if you can’t.”

  “What happened...was....” Averill lifted her head and looked unseeingly at the draperies all about them.

  He reached across, put a finger against her nose and turned her to face him.

  “Allow me to finish that. What happened was magical. Entrancing. Beyond wonder. It was heaven on earth. If you don’t agree, let me know now. I’m not against staying and making certain of it, and to hell with the rest of the world.”

  Averill’s eyes narrowed as she looked at him.

  “That’s right. Puzzle that through. You’re the most important thing in my life, Averill. What happened between us is just that. Between us. Now, cease denying it.”

  “I never…denied it,” she whispered.

  “I love you, Averill. Tell me you don’t feel the same. Make it believable this time. Go on. Try.”

  She swallowed on a dry throat. The motion scratched. “I can’t,” she finally answered.

  “Can’t what?”

  “Deny it.”

  “Good.” He slid his finger down her nose and stood. “I’ll get your clothing. I’ll have you know, I’ve never had to do such explaining the morn after, either.”

  “Were there many?”

  “Explanations?” he asked, slicing his glance side-long down at her. “I just told you there weren’t.”

  “Mornings after,” she replied.

  He choked. Averill looked away. In the morning, uncovered by dawn and his lamplight, the soot-colored draperies and black ceiling looked tawdry and ill-used. “Don’t ask.”

  “But—?”

  “I told you I am the black sheep, remember? That comes with all the trappings of the position. I don’t think I missed many.”

  “Trappings?”

  “Don’t you listen to anything, Averill? The past is just that – past. Mine and yours. I love you. Only you. There. I said it again. I’ll send a letter to my uncle when next I write him. I love you. I’ve never said that to any other woman. Ever. Now. Let me gather your clothing.”

  Her lips tipped. “There isn’t much. And what there is…oh dear.” She looked away. She couldn’t arrive back at camp in her dance outfit! The last scarf was even gone.

  “You doubt my ability to protect you, darling?”

  “I’ll need a cloak. Something. I can’t wear next to nothing. The men—. That Salazar! You didn’t see how he looked at me.”

  “Oh. I more than saw, darling. I took note. But Salazar won’t fight me. Not after the last time.”

  “Very well. I’ll dress in it.”

  “Oh, no. Not today. That outfit is strictly for use in private. With me. Damn it, Averill! I have to get back. We have to leave before it gets much lighter, and here you are making me forget everything—.” He stopped his words. “I’ll be right back. Clothing isn’t an issue. Of any kind. Not around here.”

  His voice came through the translucent curtains. Averill watched his shadow moving behind them, visible although indistinct. She shivered, wondering if their lovemaking last night had been the same.

  “Here. It’s more modest. At least, until I can find replacements.” He shook out a beautiful red silk dress, embroidered with golden filigree. A thick, black cloak was included for cover.

  “Replacements?”

  “Oh. You’re getting a change of wardrobe, Averill. The moment I can get one.” He set the attire on the edge of the bed.

  She regarded him solemnly. She couldn’t travel with a band of brigands dressed in the red dress. And that must mean he was sending her away. Averill’s heart ached with it. She looked down quickly so he couldn’t read her thoughts. She loved him. And nothing changed it.

  “What is it now?”

  “I—I’m not your dancing girl, anymore?” She tried to keep the hurt out of her voice as she glanced back up.

  “The way you dance?” One blackened eyebrow rose. “I don’t have enough men to protect you.”

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Averill?”

  His face was scrunched in concern. She turned her head away.

  “What is it? I want you decently clothed, and you cry? I don’t understand.”

  “I am...not crying,” she stammered.

  She shouldn’t say something so untruthful. Not when the evidence was blurring the curtains into one dark mass of color. Tenny crawled atop the bed and into her line of vision.

  “Those look like tears to me,” he remarked finally.

  “Forgive me,” she whispered.

  “I am deplorable at woman’s games, Averill. Be blunt. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “You have to get back,” she reminded him.

  In answer he sat, lifted one leg, then the other, to cross it atop the first. Then he placed his fingertips together and leaned his chin on it to study her.

  “What...are you doing?” she asked.

  “Proving my words. You are the most important thing in my life, Averill. The. Most. Nothing else is the least consequence. So, tell me. What has upset you?”

  “You are sending me away.”

  His mouth curved into a smile, sinister-looking from Kareem’s sneer. “Never. Ever. You have my word on it.”

  “But—?”

  He sighed heavily. “You truly don’t listen, do you? I love you, Averill. I need you. I desire you. And now that I’ve—uh. We’ve…well. After last night…ahem. All I can say is the longing is worse, if such a thing is possible. I can’t think beyond you. I can scarcely function. I’m protecting the interests of the crown here. And my men. And to do all that, I have to get you decently covered. That’s what I’m doing. That’s all I’m doing. I’m not sending you away. I promise.”

  Averill’s mouth nearly split with the smile. Tenny groaned, and gathered her close. Protectively. Possessively.

  “You are a difficult woman to persuade, my love. Please listen. You’re special, Averill. How special is hard to quantify. Trust me. You’re special, and you’re mine. I’m not giving you up. I’m not sharing. And I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

  His kiss promised even more. And then he pulled away and gave her a look that was probably trying to be stern. “Are you ready to dress now?”

  She nodded, slid from the concealment of bedding, trying to ignore how he watched her every movement. She tossed the dress over her head, smoothed it along her hips, and then pulled it to her ankles. It was tight. It wasn’t concealing much.

  “Is this better?” she asked when she’d finished.

  “Get your cloak. Put it on. Now. Right now.”

  He was using Kareem’s guttural voice. Averill did as he requested, wrapping the cloth loosely about her before lifting a fold to cover her head.

  “That might work,” he commented.

  “What of the others we’ll visit, Ten — I mean, Kareem?”

  He stood and walked about her. When he’d finished his appraisal he stood before her. And then he grinned.

  “Why, I’ll just have to insult them. Now, hurry. I mustn’t put my friend in jeopardy.”

  “About…this friend...?” She slipped into some shoes, hoping he wouldn’t guess at jealousy she couldn’t quite stifle.

  “She has bathing facilities that are second to none, doesn’t she?”

  He winked. She smiled back.

  “I’ll always remember. You?”

  She was ready to answer, but he pulled her to him, catching any answer with another kiss. And then he lift
ed his head and touched her cheek with his hand. Averill leaned her head into his palm.

  “I ask you to hurry, yet all you do is stall. Again. Very well. Face the consequences.”

  He lifted her into his arms. Averill settled her face against his shoulder. She didn’t want to meet up with his so-called friend again, and she instinctively knew the bathing chamber would be different. What had happened was magic and joy. She didn’t want to see it altered in the light of day, as the black chamber had been.

  “Sabin!”

  Tenny whistled, and his stallion moved out of the stable with the saddle still on its back.

  ~ ~ ~

  Harvey was tearing down their tent, muttering about appearances when they walked into the square, Kareem leading the horse.

  “It’s about bloody time!” Harvey said with what sounded like disgust. “I’ve had the devil of a time acting as if both of you were here.”

  He collapsed the roof. Averill turned away to avoid the rush of dusty air. Kareem grinned.

  “She doesn’t look like a dancing girl, either.” Harvey pointed at her. Averill looked down. He was right. She looked like a wife.

  “She’s not posing as a dancing girl anymore.” Kareem spoke in French. Averill caught Harvey’s sidelong glance.

  “I’ve much to tell you, Kareem,” Harvey said.

  “The weapons?”

  “Your men weren’t idling away time last night, as you were.”

  Idling away time? It was a good thing Averill was supposed to be ignorant of their words. She couldn’t do a thing about the flush while Kareem just grinned down at his servant.

  “Oh…cease the nattering, Harvey. I’m ready.”

  Averill watched Kareem go to his other horse and transfer his saddle to it. Harvey watched too, and then he rolled his eyes.

  “He says he’s ready,” Harvey complained. “Of course he’s ready. He doesn’t have to tear down tents, gather foodstuffs, and pack trunks.”

  “Can I help?”

  Harvey glared at her for a long moment. “Help? I’ll tell you how to help. You can go back to the streets of Cairo. That’s what you can do, missy.”

  His whispered words were spoken just for her. Averill drew back as if slapped. He nodded and went back to folding and packing the tent. Ignoring her. Nobody noticed her. Nobody watched her walk stiffly to mount her own horse, and no one saw that it took two tries. She needed stoicism. Strength of mind, body, and character. And found little to draw on. Good thing she had the memory of Tenny’s love. It bolstered and surrounded, and more than once gave her shivers. It hardly mattered that Harvey kept Tenny occupied and from her. She had the memory of last night.

  The joy. The amazement. The soreness.

  “...Egyptian forces...Tripoli...the guns...ammunitions....”

  Averill caught part of Harvey’s whispered words. He still spoke in French. She wasn’t supposed to be able to understand. It didn’t matter and she didn’t care. Tenny would tell her if she needed to know.

  They set out. Averill was right behind the captain. Harvey didn’t like that. She could tell.

  It was clear the celebrating had gone on last night for some time after she and Kareem had left the fest. Drunken snores and dying embers of fires were evidence that the streets were littered with inhabitants as Kareem and his band left Selantepe. Even the dogs acted laconic and stupefied as only one lifted its head before settling back down without a hint of a bark.

  Averill turned back for a last glimpse of the city before looking forward again. Selantepe may be a sandstone city of brigands, but it was where she’d found that her love was returned. The emotion seemed to multiply within her breast. She shut her eyes and breathed deeply as she settled the secret against the others in her memory. Then, she opened them again on the sight of Tenny’s back. He may be covered over in a burnoose, hidden behind a large dose of make-up, and acting like a murderous thief, but he was still the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

  And, they were in love.

  ~ ~ ~

  Averill shifted her attention to the span of hills looming closer as the morning progressed. Bathed in light, it was awe-inspiring. Her feeble attempt at painting any kind of hill back in Cairo seemed like a weak imitation in comparison.

  At the midday break, saddles were changed to fresh horses without a word being spoken. Averill ate her piece of dried fruit and honeyed cake as she watched Tenny move about his men. Whatever was being said, it created a sense of urgency that hadn’t existed previously. And that’s when Tenny turned to her, looking at her from across the mass of horses, his eyes captivating and holding her. Everything else melted into insignificance. Averill’s bite dissolved on her tongue.

  He touched his right palm to his heart. Averill closed her eyes and let the shiver fill her. He hadn’t waited for her response or even if she gave one. When she opened her eyes, he was mounted and giving orders. And then starting off, setting a pace that was strange and uncomfortable. She wasn’t familiar with a trotting horse. It took some effort to stay in the saddle and not bounce with every step. She concentrated on that. She wasn’t riding sidesaddle, which was good for stability, but bad for keeping covered. The dress rode to the tops of her thighs more than once. It couldn’t be helped. She’d have fallen off, otherwise. Averill glanced about her. Tenny’s men were accomplished horsemen. She wasn’t going to slow them down. That might give Harvey a reason for his opinion of her.

  They finally slowed when the horses started climbing. That was fine with her. She was already nursing soreness just about everywhere. Then, she had to learn a different riding technique. She watched those about her to learn it. As the horse climbed, she leaned forward, clinging to its mane. When the horse went over the crest of a hill, she leaned back. The steeper the hill, the farther back she needed to lean. She hadn’t known that the first time, and almost lost her seat over the horse’s head. She hoped no one noticed.

  It was odd, but as the sunlight faded, they didn’t look to have gained much distance. She could even see Selantepe on the flat land beneath them if she glanced down. It was cooler in the mountain passes, too. Averill huddled in the black cloak, lifting it over her nose for warmth. She looked forward to a warm supper, and then sleeping beside Tenny.

  That is… if he let her sleep.

  The memory of last night warmed and tantalized. Her nakedness pressed against his. Joining. Accepting every thrust… She closed her eyes for a moment and could swear she felt him! Averill opened them in surprise, before fluffing the material about her head and neck for air to cool the sudden flush.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  When they stopped for supper, no one erected any tents. Averill leaned against a rock outcropping, nibbling on her portion of bread and cheese while the men exchanged saddles again. They looked like they were preparing to ride through the night. She eyed the darkening path uneasily. It wouldn’t be easy traveling a path no one could see.

  “Averill? You ready to travel on?” Tenny asked.

  “Will you hold...the reins?” She tried not to shiver.

  He chuckled. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll take you with me up on Sabin. Come.” He reached for her. “Look at me. I know I ask it too much, but I can never seem to get enough of your eyes. Have you been thinking of me?”

  She nodded.

  “I felt you every step we took today. Even though I dared not stop, here I’m the one stalling. I’m trying hard not to kiss you.”

  “Don’t try too hard, my love.” She raised her head to touch his lips with hers.

  He groaned just before his hard arms pulled her close. She didn’t care what the others thought. Her hands roamed over his back under his burnoose and down to his buttocks.

  He stepped away. “You shouldn’t tempt me, Averill. We must reach Istanbul within the week.” He pulled her close again, pressed a kiss to her lips before releasing her. “Well. It appears The Lord has decided my punishment for all my varied sins. How, you ask? Well. He has sent me a perfe
ct love…and no time to enjoy it. Good thing we have the future.”

  He lifted her onto Sabin and sprang into the saddle behind her. She snuggled into his chest, one leg tossed over his.

  “I’ll be good, Tenny. I promise.”

  “Oh no. Not with me, you don’t. You won’t change a thing.”

  They started off, while Averill tried to find a comfortable position in which to doze.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Look! There’s a lake ahead, but no trees!”

  She leaned forward from her position against Tenny and pointed, and then frowned as the image vanished. She settled back against him, grateful he’d dozed through her outburst. It was a mirage, shimmering briefly in the distance, only to disappear.

  It wasn’t the first she’d seen. They’d left the Taurus Mountains the previous afternoon, stopping for a change of horses, a snack of dried fruit and another honey cake, as well as a quick sip of water from their canteens. That was all Tenny allowed. They weren’t resting until they reached Bolvadin. He tempered that with saying there would be trees and water, because Bolvadin was beside a lake. Perhaps that was why she kept seeing water.

  Harvey had looked askance at her position when they changed mounts, and Tenny put her back on his own horse with him. Averill tried to ignore Harvey’s worried look, but it weighed on her mind. He was foolish to worry. She’d never harm Tenny. She loved him too much. Almost too much, she decided, shuffling a bit. The soreness from Tenny’s loving had faded, leaving a vaguely uncomfortable feeling. It was growing with each step of the horse, too.

  If someone had told her that once she tasted lovemaking, it became a nagging longing, she’d have thought them crazed. And if this was lust, it certainly explained all the warnings she’d been told. Averill closed her eyes and rubbed her back against the chest behind her, rewarded by a slight groan. No. It wasn’t lust. It was much more than that. It was love. It had to be.

  She raised and lowered her eyebrows repeatedly. She’d felt Tenny’s rod growing hard sometimes behind her, before he’d shifted away. That made her wonder if he suffered the same problem.

  She couldn’t wait to reach Bolvadin!