“We will,” Connor gravely answered.
Despite his vow, however, the moment Brother Jonathan closed the door behind him, he drew Allis down for a long, luxurious, passionate kiss.
Her whole body softened and warmed as his mouth explored hers. Pleasure slid outward from there, to move with slow seduction through her. She twined her arms about his neck, spreading her fingers through his hair, and felt him tense as she brushed his bandaged shoulder. “Does this hurt?” she murmured as her lips moved toward his cheek.
“Not as much as not doing it,” he assured her. He drew back, a merry grin on his handsome face, but passion smoldering in his eyes. “And I am feeling better all the time,” he said before they shared another kiss full of love and the promise of more delight to come.
“Richard says we may wed as soon as we like.”
“Tomorrow is too far off,” he said with arousing invitation.
Her heart raced and her body yearned for his caress. Excitement bubbled and boiled. “Alas, I am but a weak-willed woman, and I fear you are trying to seduce me.”
His laughter surrounded her like a beam of sunlight on a chill afternoon. “You are quite right, but you, my lady, are the last woman I would call weak.” He stroked her cheek, his rough palm wonderfully welcome, his low, deep voice a seduction in itself. “Will you let me seduce you, Allis?”
Once more their lips met, their mouths voicing their passion without uttering words. Gingerly, as if this was their first time, their hands began to explore, the fire between them growing hotter with need and desire, and the memories of what they had already shared.
“Apparently both of you are recovering.”
With a startled gasp, she pulled back to see Richard, Isabelle and Edmond watching them—Richard amused, Isabelle delighted and Edmond, sadly, enigmatic.
She stood, then bowed. “Sire, we are both feeling very much better, especially since you have given us permission to marry.”
The king smiled, and again it was easy to see why men would follow him and women desire him, why minstrels would sing ballads about him and poets praise him—but he was no Connor of Llanstephan.
Connor started to rise, until Richard gestured for him to remain in bed. “Your marriage is a fitting reward for your loyalty, Connor, and for saving my life, but there is still one thing lacking. A man wed to an heiress of Montclair really ought to have his own estate, so I have decided to give you DeFrouchette’s.”
“Sire!” they cried simultaneously, equally shocked.
“Since the man was a traitor, it is the Crown’s to give. Of course, I will expect the taxes to be paid on time.”
Connor got a very determined look on his face. “Since we are speaking of taxes, sire—”
Richard waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, I shall speak to the justiciar about lowering the taxes on Llanstephan before I return to the Continent. I gave the order in haste when you first angered me, and in truth, never thought of it again. It was to have been a temporary measure anyway. I do value honesty, when my temper cools. Indeed, I trust you will continue to be honest with me—and I promise I will not be so remiss in future. You have the word of Richard on that.”
Allis wasn’t convinced the word of Richard was much of a guarantee, but perhaps there were times it was better to be silent, just as there were times, as she had learned, when it was better to speak.
Richard nodded to Edmond, who came forward. “This young man has a request.”
“I would like Connor to continue training me in the arts of war.” He turned toward the king. “And when Connor is satisfied that I am prepared, I would also ask that you will accept me in your retinue.”
Richard chuckled. “By my sword, if Connor thinks you are sufficiently trained, that will be good enough for me. I will be proud to have you in my company, young earl of Montclair.”
Like Connor in his youth, once she would have considered this a great honor. Now, having met the king, she was not so sure. Still, it would be years before Edmond would be fully trained to be a knight, and much could happen in that time. It could be, as he thought back on what had happened, he would change his mind.
But for now, Edmond smiled, although she saw that it was not as he had been wont to smile before. In the past several days, he had been tried, and he had not been found wanting, but he had paid a price.
Richard abruptly whirled around and addressed Isabelle, who had been hovering near the door, so quiet Allis had forgotten she was there. “Since your king is in a generous mood, is there anything you request, Lady Isabelle?”
She nodded. “I would ask that you do not execute Sir Auberan de Beaumartre.”
Had that traitorous young man managed to obtain Isabelle’s affection, after all?
The king’s good humor vanished. “It is not my custom to forgive traitors. He would not name any of the others who would plot against me, although all here confirm that he shared in their secret councils. That woman, Merva, was most adamant about that, yet he claims he does not know who Oswald and Rennick were in league with.”
“Auberan is a follower, sire, not a leader,” Isabelle said. “He is probably speaking the truth when he says he does not know, and I do not ask that you forgive him completely. Strip him of his title and estates and banish him, but let him live.”
“You care for him, do you?”
“Not in the way that you think, Your Majesty. Not as my sister loves Sir Connor. I pity him.”
“Others might take this for a sign of weakness on my part.”
“Or an example of their king’s benevolence, sire. Anyone who has met Auberan will understand that he could pose no real threat to a man like you.”
Wise Isabelle had realized that the most effective way to persuade a man like Richard would be to appeal to his vanity.
“I will banish him to the far north, where he can live among the heathen Scots,” Richard reflected. “No doubt he wouldn’t last the winter anyway.”
“You are most generous and merciful, sire,” Isabelle said.
So Rennick was dead, and Auberan banished. That left one conspirator unaccounted for, and he was the worst of all.
“What of Oswald?” Allis asked.
“Escaped, the blackguard. But we will hunt him down eventually, now that we know where his loyalties lie. Now, Sir Connor, my lady, I believe we should leave you to discuss the nuptials.” The king turned to Edmond and Isabelle. “Come along, you two, and I shall tell you about my campaign in the Holy Land. It was marvelous, I assure you, and we would have taken Jerusalem except for a most foul set of circumstances.”
When they were gone, Allis smiled at Connor. “Perhaps you are tired and wish to rest? You were very quiet.”
“After all these years, perhaps I have learned the wisdom to hold my tongue.”
She again sat beside him on the bed. “Have you?”
He shifted, making more room. “Or perhaps my bride-to-be was talking enough for both.”
The heat of a blush warmed her cheeks. Maybe she should have been more circumspect.
His arm crept around her. “And perhaps I was content to listen to her speak and admire her, so proud and happy that such a woman was willing to be my wife.”
Proud and happy, too, she lay beside him. He wrapped his right arm around her and she nestled against him, content. “Is that true, sir knight?”
He brushed her cheek lightly with his marvelous lips and tremors of delight skittered and danced. “Very much so. I still cannot quite believe my glorious dream is coming true.”
Thrilling to his touch, she murmured, “We should discuss our nuptials, as the king suggested.”
Connor’s mouth moved down her neck, heating her blood and making it hard for her to think. “We could discuss your dowry.”
“I thought you didn’t care about that.”
“That is not the dowry I meant.” He slowly stroked her breast, arousing her even more. “This is one part I am thinking of.” He ran his forefinger ove
r her lips. “This is another part.”
His touch sent shivers of delight along her body and her hunger for him grew. “You don’t want to talk about it, do you?”
“I suppose I should know how much it is,” he muttered as he trailed kisses across her collarbone. “Is it more than a penny?”
“Yes,” she whispered as he dragged his hand up her leg, pulling her gown upward, too.
“More than a mark?”
“Yes,” she sighed, closing her eyes and giving in to the pure ecstasy of his touch.
“Then I am satisfied.”
She opened her eyes. “Well, Sir Connor of Llanstephan,” she teased with an undercurrent of blatant desire, “I am not.”
She moved her hand beneath the linen sheet. As his touch excited her, so she would excite him, and his low moan and closed eyes told her she was succeeding.
She stroked him and he grew harder under her hand. It gave her a heady sense of triumph as this bold, brave warrior surrendered to her caress.
“Oh, sweet heaven, Allis,” he moaned, “what are you doing?”
“Giving you pleasure, I hope. Does your shoulder trouble you too much? Should I stop?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know,” he said as he pushed against her hand. “Don’t stop.”
She didn’t want to stop, and yet the tension and yearning within her was building to a fever pitch. Carefully, so that she did not move his shoulder, she pushed down the sheet and untied his breeches, freeing him. Then, as he watched, his eyes gleaming and telling her he wanted this, too, she settled herself upon his hips.
“You do not weigh what you did.”
“That’s good, isn’t it—considering?”
His low chuckle filled the air as she bent down to kiss him. “It’s very good.”
“My dowry is eight hundred marks.”
He gasped again, and not with passion.
She pressed a light kiss on his forehead. She had been waiting for a good time to tell him, and this seemed as good as any. “I understand that is enough to pay off the taxes on Llanstephan.”
He moved, arousing her even more. “You would do that?”
She kissed his fine, straight nose. “Of course. And it leaves some for new clothes for you.”
“I don’t need new clothes.”
Then she kissed his marvelously masculine jaw. “And for smaller clothes. Children’s clothes. Our children’s clothes.”
“Allis!” he cried, going perfectly still. “Are you with child?”
She smiled as she shook her head. “Not yet, but soon, I hope. It may take many tries, of course. With that in mind, my dearest, most wonderful knight of the realm,” she murmured, her voice husky with yearning, “the only thing I want to talk about now is how I intend to pleasure you.”
He laughed softly, the sound warm and comforting, making her feel happy and beloved, secure and at peace at last. “My dearest, most wonderful lady of Montclair, I am listening.”
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THE MAIDEN AND HER KNIGHT. Copyright © 2001 by Margaret Wilkins. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
First Avon Books paperback printing: October 2001
EPub Edition © FEBRUARY 2011 ISBN: 978-0-06-209196-3
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