“That’s it, sweet Ellise,” he crooned in her ear before kissing her lobe and neck.
She twisted in his hold so his palms cradled her rear. Her legs trembled still, so she held onto him for support, twisting the hair at the base of his neck around a finger as the haze in front of her vision cleared.
Staring up at him, he captivated her with his eyes. She couldn’t see the flecks in his eyes, or whether the darkness in them had increased but she saw emotion and passion.
“You are so open. I love that about you.”
Ellise gulped, words trapped in her throat. Did he mean he loved her? Guilt, as sharp and as painful as the knife that sliced her hand, stabbed through her. Open? Honest? Because if he loved that about her, then he would only be disappointed.
An ache grew in her throat and she dropped her gaze. Would he forgive her secrets? Understand her fear? Life was so simple to James. Duty and honour. Good and bad. Would he think of her as evil for the foresight that burdened her?
She drew up her head, sucked in a long breath. “James, I—”
“Hush, now.” He pressed a finger to her lips.
“Nay, I must—”
“You need not explain yourself to me, Ellise.” And with that he lowered his lips to hers, clasping her forcefully.
Heat drowned her, need devoured her. Would it hurt? Just to leave it one night? Just to feel instead of think and worry? Ellise dug her nails into his neck as she twined her tongue with his, savouring the taste of him.
On the morrow. On the morrow she would tell all and take her fate. If James truly felt for her—loved her?—then he would understand.
Desperate to feel his skin, she slipped her fingers inside his shirt and to be met by the beat of his heart through his smooth flesh. So strong and sure, just like James. He was a rock to her. A balm to her impetuousness. He grounded her, balanced her out. Santa Maria, how she loved this man. Ellise placed an open kiss to the golden skin there and forced the laces of his shirt further apart so she could kiss along his chest. He clutched her hair and a rumbling groan came from him.
She found herself pushed back to the bed and she sat and watched as he stripped away his shirt. The faint glow from the window painted his skin and enhanced the lines of his muscles. So much restrained power made her mouth dry. Then he kicked off his boots and pulled down his chausses and braies in one go. She fought the need to cough, her lips parched as she allowed her gaze to drift over him. Whatever happened, she would always have this. Always remember him like this.
He looked at her from under his brow, expression dark and intense. Her throat constricted as he took a step forward and Ellise placed her hands on his hips, her gaze lined up with his stomach. She skimmed her palms over him and up toward his chest before coming down to cup his solid heat. He hissed and came closer, forcing her to lie back.
Suddenly he flipped her onto her front in one swift movement and his hands were upon her back and buttocks.
“James, what—”
"Lass, you talk too much. Hush."
Ellise sighed into the bedding as his clever fingers worked over her skin, smoothing and caressing. He made love to every part of her with his hands, as if he wanted to worship each fragment. Two fingers pressed between her buttocks and she couldn't help but rear up toward them. Her skin was on fire, blood simmering through her, a tingling awareness brought on by his ministrations. Those two fingers dipped into her folds and circled her nub before making long, languorous strokes. She moaned into the sheets.
James brought both hands onto her hips and coaxed her up onto all fours. His rough legs brushed the back of her thighs as he placed kisses down her spine and onto each buttock. She whimpered when his heat touched near her sex but he seemed determined to torture her until she exploded. Then slowly, ever so slowly he invaded her, inching her apart. He barely moved—he barely had to—and already she convulsed around him. This love-making was slow and leisurely, but her body recognised James for what he was and responded instantly. Her lover. Her other half. Her heart.
With gentle, rippling strokes, he eased in and out of her. She breathed his name as a slow pleasure built. When it seemed she would not hold out for much longer, he tugged her up to him, holding her against his chest, hands upon her breasts as he moved lazily within her. His lips found the arch of her neck in a possessive kiss as the smallest of movements had her shattering around him. Ellise leaned back and savoured the touch of rough hands on her nipples as the sensations rolled through her, endless and subtle but intensely beautiful.
He thrust slightly harder as the pulsations slowed and he tensed. He muttered her name and some incoherent words. Perhaps of his love for her, she wasn't sure. Her brain still felt muddled from the pleasure that drowned her. James rocked against her, filling her before relaxing. They remained joined, on their knees for many moments. Did their shared moment stun him as much as she? Never had she known anything so primitively strong.
Surely such a connection surpassed that of even love? She dared to imagine the words soul mate in her mind.
Carefully he released her and helped her to lie down as he lay next to her. James stroked her cheek as she stared up at him, breathless and amazed. And then, unable to resist any longer, she snuggled into his bare chest, inhaling the musky scent of him and their shared passions. He wrapped his arms about her and kissed her hair.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Whatever for, lass?”
“For that, for you, for...” In truth, she did not know what she was thanking him for. For loving her? Surely he did. No experience would be so powerful if he did not. Lethargy threatened to overwhelm her and she yawned.
James chuckled. “Sleep now, sweet Ellise.”
“Will you sleep with me?” She longed to have him for a bit longer, even as the worry that a vision might strike her hit. But mayhap she could brush one off as a nightmare until she’d explained.
“For a bit. I will be gone by the morning, for I will not shame you so.”
“And yet you cared not who saw us earlier.”
“Aye, well it could be said I was not thinking with a clear mind. You do that to me.”
“‘Tis not my fault…” She fought another yawn.
“Rest some and we will speak more on this in the morrow.”
The morrow? Aye, and she would tell all and her soul would be free of its burdens. She almost looked forward to it.
CHAPTER NINE
The next evening they gathered in the Great Hall as servants cleared away the drink and food. Dominic joined them only briefly before retreating to Lucy’s side once more. After James had seen to the men and checked all was well, he had arranged for word of the safe arrival of the babes to be sent to Lucy’s parents. Lord Jacob, Dominic’s brother and his wife had already arrived with their little girl, Emma. No doubt they would have many more guests soon.
He fought the urge to snarl as their current guest leaned in to Ellise, whispering something. Ellise held herself rigid. James needed to get Ellise away from Wighthurst. He couldn’t bear another moment of watching her in his company. He had not seen her all day. She had been tending to the babes, while he made everything ready for the guests. True to his word, he left her, sleepy but satisfied in the early hours of the morn. Oh, how it killed him to do so.
Throwing back his wine, he swallowed it and swiped a hand across his mouth before stalking to her side. The Earl stepped back as he approached, giving him an insincere smile.
“Captain, ‘tis a night for celebrations is it not?”
“It is indeed, my lord. There will be many festivities taking place in the village square. Will you be joining the revelry?”
Wighthurst dabbed at his lip. “Ah…I was hoping to persuade Lady Ellise to jo—”
“Alas, I have need of Lady Ellise. We have arrangements to make for the new lords of Thornewall.” He allowed his eyes to narrow. “You do not mind relinquishing her to her duties, do you, my lord?”
“Nay, I wou
ld not wish to get in the way of her duties,” the Earl said tightly.
A smile flickered across Ellise’s face, making his heart leap. Offering her an arm, he gulped as her hand curled over the top of his. James fought to keep the smug grin from his face. “We shall bid you good night, my lord.”
“Good night,” Wighthurst flustered before turning away.
“Good night, Edmund,” Ellise offered quietly, making James’ insides curdle with jealously at the use of his first name.
But still, she was on his arm. James knew he strutted out of the hall with a self-satisfied smile on his face. It was not to be helped. He had spent too long watching Wighthurst fawn over her. And the worst thing…
The worst thing was Wighthurst did not let his pride get in the way of his regard for Ellise. The cold-hearted Lord recognised her worth. Only now the risk of losing her was upon him, did he realise that he couldn’t afford to lose her. Ack, but he was a damned fool. His father had been wrong. Everything he’d been brought up to believe was wrong. There was more to life than duty and wealth and influence. Ellise showed him that.
Now he had to show her he understood that finally. If only he hadn’t been so damned dense. Unease ate at him. He still did not know what she wanted. Surely she would accept his hand? He failed to comprehend the reason behind her tears last night. Perhaps she was lonely? Mayhap she regretted that she did not yet have children but there was something more. He suspected some tragic tale lay behind her impoverished state. Though he itched to know what it was, he feared upsetting her again. And what did it matter? He knew all he needed to know of her. Soon enough they could learn each other’s secrets.
They strolled across the bailey, the sun already dipping behind the great walls of Thornewall. He risked a peek at Ellise, enjoying the way the sunset warmed her skin, making her beautiful colouring luminous. She glanced up at him and he snapped his gaze forward, but not before catching the knowing arch of a brow.
Several watchmen were lighting the torches for the night which glittered against the stone walls as they walked under the gatehouse. James longed to break the silence but didn’t know how. Normally Ellise could be relied on for much to speak of but she was uncommonly quiet, as if lost in thought.
The celebrations were under way as they made their way down the bank. Villagers lined the streets as they carried food and drink to the village square. With the next day declared a holiday, many would over-indulge and awake with sore heads. But the arrival of not one, but two male heirs did indeed warrant a celebration.
“You shall have many grateful for your presence here, Ellise,” he told her, leaning closer to speak over the bustle.
“Why? I did little. ‘Twas Lucy that did the work, poor love.”
“Aye, but you delivered two healthy boys to Thornewall. We’ve been hoping for male heirs for quite some time. Some thought Lord Dominic would never settle and have babes.”
“I would wager some think the same of you.”
“I care not what others think. What think you?”
“I know not. You are very picky,” she teased.
Ack, but that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. With a sigh, he urged her through the crowds toward the village centre. A crackling bonfire burnt brightly in the middle of the square and barrels of ale sat propped outside several cottages. Loud laughter emanated from the inn and James concluded that many had begun celebrating long ago. A few women danced about the fire as someone struck up a tune on a lute and Ellise laughed as they dragged some reluctant men to join them. The sound of her pleasure sent his own sensation of pleasure rolling through him. Suddenly it was too hot so close to the fire.
Fingers curled over her elbow, he led her to where the alewife handed out beakers of drink and procured some for both of them. James took a long drink—hopefully it would steady his nerves—and tapped his foot as he observed the dancers. God’s teeth, what a lumbering idiot he was. How could he persuade Ellise to consider a future with him without even speaking to her?
“Can we dance?” she asked suddenly.
James gulped and eyed the dancers. He avoided dancing on the best of occasions and this kind of dancing—wild, uninhibited, primitive dancing—was just the sort of behaviour his father had frowned upon.
Feeling the prickle of sweat on his brow, he nodded before his courage failed him. “Aye, but I am obliged to warn you, I am no dancer.”
“Indeed, Captain? I should never have guessed.”
“You mock me?”
“Mayhap. But prove your worth and perhaps I shall withdraw my words.”
Pleased the mood had lightened, James placed down their ales and snatched her into his arms. Prove his worth? The sounded like a challenge and the warrior in him revelled in the chance. She inhaled sharply as he flattened her to his chest and dragged her into the shadows of the cottages.
“I said dance, James, not hide.”
He grinned, sprawled his fingers over her waist and grasped her tightly. Hips swaying carefully against hers, he coaxed her into a slow, sensual dance, completely at odds with the lively jig of the other dancers.
“We are dancing, are we not?” he whispered into her ear.
“This,” her voice hitched, “is not dancing. ‘Tis lovemaking with clothes on.”
Ha, trust Ellise to be so blunt. Yet he could not stop the movement of his hips and she did not pull away. There went his plan to prove himself a better man…
The fragrance of flowers lingered as she rested her head on his chest and wound her hands around his neck. Tucked into their own world of shadows and lust, James allowed himself to relish the moment, forgetting for a moment his muddled thoughts of how to win Ellise. She was still attracted to him, was she not? That gave him hope, at least. Hope that mayhap last night had been about more than just comfort.
Unable to resist, he brought up one hand and stroked the back of his fingers across her cheek. She audibly sighed as he trailed them into her hair. Grateful she wore it loose for a change, he twined his fingers into the strands and imagined she was his.
She tilted her head up and he caught that sadness there again. In an attempt to banish it, he took her mouth with an urgent kiss and she instantly arched her hips into him, sending him dizzy as all the blood rushed from his head and concentrated on his manhood.
The finest desserts tasted incomparable compared to Ellise. Even with the faint tang of ale, she drugged him with her sweet flavour until he forgot the celebrations around them and any thought of ever releasing her.
Her tongue stroked his, bold and daring, as she released a little moan and dug her fingers into his neck. Fingers clasped around her head, he manoeuvred her to push the kiss deeper. A leg curled around his, forcing him to press into her juncture.
A peal of laughter sliced through their cinch and James pulled away abruptly. Ellise wavered and he settled his hands on her shoulders to steady her. God’s teeth, but he was a barbarian. For all his talk of chivalry and duty, he came close to taking her in the middle of the village square. Pulse thudding erratically, he gripped her shoulders. He needed to tell her of his feelings, regardless of the outcome.
“Ellise, I—”
“James I must speak with you,” she announced suddenly.
“We are, are we not?” He stroked his hands up and down her arms.
Her lips twisted. “How is it you always distract me from my task? This,” she pushed him away playfully, “is not talking.”
“Talk then, lass. Though you’ll not dissuade me from touching you.” James reached for her again and tugged her into his chest.
She shook her head in exasperation and softened against him. “I have much to tell you.” Her cheek rested against his chest. “I… you know that I was saddened last night…”
He took a moment to smooth his palms across her back and hair, hoping to coax the words from her. “Aye.”
“‘Twas the memory of my son that did it.”
“Your son?” God’s blood, no wonder she had
been aggrieved. While she’d been bringing new life into the world, she was mourning the babe she had lost. His chest grew heavy for her.
“I was married once. Briefly. He died before I gave birth.”
She spoke with such bravery, not even a wobble in her voice, that James wanted to pin her to him and take away every moment of sadness from her life. He wanted to protect this woman, but it was more than thoughts of duty and chivalry that did this. It was his love for her.
“Ellise, you do not have to tell me all this. I care not about your past. I would not see you upset.”
“I have made foolish decisions these past years, particularly when I was younger, but I cannot regret them for I am still alive and well. Well, I regret turning to crime. And that is why—”
“And being caught by me,” James added.
“Nay, I could not regret that, but I do—”
“Damnation.” He scowled as he spotted Wighthurst weaving his way between the villagers, his face turned up in a sneer of disgust. His gaze scanned the dancers. No doubt looking for Ellise. He’d be damned if he found her.
“Will you walk with me?” he bit out.
Both eyebrows shot up but she nodded. “Aye, as you will.”
Curses. Ellise always remained so calm and collected as if the raging torrent of emotion didn’t pull her along too. The spark of doubt lit once more.
Arm linked back through his, Ellise flashed him as grin as they left the town square and strolled out into the outskirts of the village, leaving the revelries behind. Dusk had given way to a mostly clear night, the stars lighting their way once they moved away from the torch-lit streets. He led her around the curve of the mound until the lake came into view. Satisfied no one followed, he carefully unhooked her arm from his and coaxed her to face him. Her quizzical expression almost stole his determination but, nay, he would not be cowed by her. This night he would tell her how he felt.
Uncertainty flickered across her face and she glanced over at the lake, arms wrapped around her. Then a slow smile lit her face, mischief glinting in her eyes as she shoved against his chest and stepped back. Her hands came to the lacing at the front of her gown and Ellise drew out the ribbon slowly.
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