by North, Evie
He was watching her with that narrowed look, and she forced herself to smile at him.
“It would suit me very well indeed,” she agreed.
Hadden reached over to her and brushed his fingers against her own. “We would have children of course,” he said firmly, as if it was already decided. “I need children to come after me.”
“And would you love them too?” she asked curiously. “My father had children, but apart from me, he did not love them particularly. They were useful; they were necessary, but he did not love them for their own sakes.”
Hadden chewed his bread before he answered her. “I would love them,” he said, his voice confident. “My father loved me and I do not see why I should be any different.”
Edwina couldn’t help but smile at him. He was a charming man. It was just a shame that soon he would be gone and all she would have left were memories.
I must not be greedy, she reminded herself. The memories will be fine ones, and I will use them whenever Sir Jerome makes me unhappy or I long to be free.
Perhaps Sir Jerome would die before her? She knew he planned to make war on the king, he and the other wealthy landowning barons in the north of England. King John was a sly and dangerous man. Sir Jerome might meet his match there . . .
Hadden caught her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. Edwina’s thoughts splintered as he drew her to her feet only to tug her around to his side of the table and pull her down onto his lap. He kissed her.
Just for a moment she let herself believe his words were truth, that they really were married and in love and it was forever. Edwina wound her arms about his neck and kissed him back, taking his tongue into her mouth and tasting him with wild abandon. He stood up and pushed aside the bowls, spilling one, pressing her against the table top and pulling up her skirts.
His voice in her ear was soft and wicked. “This time, lady, I will show you how a husband ravishes his wife at the supper table.”
Before she could answer his hands were on her thighs, stroking the soft flesh, and then he was nuzzling against her rounded bottom. His fingers slid into her cleft, brushing over her hard nub, and she groaned and opened her legs wider for him, forgetting everything in her body’s need for his.
His body was warm and heavy against her back, and then his cock pressed against her, sliding against her slick skin, applying just the amount of pressure she needed. Edwina held her breath, sure that in a moment she would reach that wonderful place again, but this time he stopped. Denying her.
“Hadden,” she wailed.
He chuckled, moving again, bringing her to the peak and again denying her.
“Hadden!” this time it was a muffled scream.
His cock pressed to her opening and slid inside, going deep, and he reached down and stroked her bud with his fingers, holding her outer lips apart so that he had full access to her.
Edwina pressed back against him, standing on her toes so that he could enter her more fully, her fingers clenched on the table. She wondered if this grim household had ever seen such lewd behaviour before and knew it hadn’t. She felt free, wonderfully free, and unrestrained.
“Will you come with me and live in my house?” he whispered in her ear, and thrust again, driving her against the solid table. “Will you leave behind this place and come with me, lady?”
“Oh yes,” she wailed, as the pleasure grabbed her and pulled her toward that wonderful place. “Yes, yes, Hadden, I will go with you.”
Even as she said it, her mind was reminding her that this wasn’t real. It was the fantasy, the game they were playing.
And then he tipped her over the edge and her body clenched around him, milking him, making him groan as he thrust erratically into her and then lay heavy against her, panting.
It was a moment before she realised there were loud voices at the door. Hadden heard them too; she felt him stiffen, and then he stood up and fixed his clothing, drawing Edwina’s skirts back over her bottom and legs, smoothing them down in a manner that said much for his tender nature.
Tears stung her eyes, but then the voices grew even louder and she pushed herself upright on wobbly legs.
“Master! Master! Someone is coming, Sir Hadden!”
Hadden snatched up his cloak and ran downstairs with Edwina stumbling after him. She didn’t understand who was outside. The voices were Scottish and yet Hadden was responding as if . . . as if . . .
She froze at the bottom of the stairs, suddenly aware that she may be in great danger. Hadden was tugging back the bolts and then he reached to turn the great key. For a moment he paused and looked back at her over his shoulder, his expression grim.
She could not keep the shock of betrayal from her face.
“You’re safe,” he said firmly. “I will keep you safe.”
And then he’d flung open the door and the Scots were there, wild haired and kilted, peering into the manor. One of them stepped in, pointing back outside toward the valley where the weak sun was proclaiming a new day. The night was over and so, thought Edwina, was her dream, and quite possibly her life.
“Sir Hadden, there’re riders coming. We need to be gone. We canna be caught here. They are too many for us to fight.”
Hadden nodded. “We’ll leave now. Fetch my horse,” and he nodded toward the pens at the back. The Scot hurried to do his bidding. As he passed Edwina, clinging to the stair rail, he bowed in her direction in a manner that was so respectful she thought she must be going mad.
“Edwina.” Hadden was before her. “I have to tell you now that my being here was no coincidence. I’m sorry I was not honest with you but it was necessary.”
“Necessary to lie and seduce me?” she asked bitterly.
His dark eyes were gazing into hers. “Lady, I was sent by the king. He heard of your marriage and did not want your fortune falling into the hands of one of his enemies, as you know Sir Jerome is. He wants to break the power of these northern barons and your wealth would only increase their armies.”
“He asked you to ruin me?” she gasped, horrified by his confession.
Hadden bit his lip, but she could see he wanted to smile. It made her angry.
“You thought Sir Jerome would not marry me if you had me first,” she said bluntly, daring him to contradict her. “You thought to ruin me and leave me to my fate?”
“No, Edwina. I did not think that. I am here to take you as my wife. Your fortune will come to me and Sir Jerome will be the weaker for it. His pride will be stung too, I think.” He did smile now.
“Take me as your wife? Never!”
“But we have already discussed this,” he said, and there was steel in him now. She saw the man he was and it was not so different from what she had believed all along. “You agreed. Remember?” he added with a hint of the tenderness she found so attractive.
Edwina tried to remember, but she had said and thought so many things, and none of them meant anything, because she had never expected this conclusion to their night. “Did I?”
“Would you rather stay here?” Hadden stepped forward as his horse was led out but his gaze never left hers. “Is that the sort of life you wish for, Edwina? You told me how unhappy you are, how you long for more. I can give you so much more. All I have said is truth, all I have promised will be so.”
“The wife of a Scot?” she choked.
“Why not? You said you did not hate the Scots, well not all of them.”
“You do not sound Scottish,” she said, feeling as if he was cutting away the floor beneath her feet.
He shrugged. “I was educated at the court in London but my lands are beyond the border. I am as Scottish as my men.”
Edwina didn’t know what to say. The spell, she thought suddenly, clinging to the notion. This was the spell working! She had asked to be saved and this man had come to save her, albeit for his own ends too. She looked deep into his eyes, trying to make a decision, and saw the humour in them, the tenderness, and all that had passed between them.
She held out her hand.
Hadden took it in his, his fingers closing painfully hard. “I will make a good husband,” he said, another promise. “And you will be my beloved wife.” He looked over his shoulder before she could reply. “We will leave now,” he called to his men.
“Wait,” she said, resisting, and pulling away she ran back up the stairs. She found her warm cloak and gloves and fur lined boots, and then, after a slight hesitation, reached to snatch down the tapestry on the wall. When she turned he was behind her, perhaps thinking she planned to hide from him, but when he saw the tapestry his mouth curled up.
“Very nice. It will look well on our wall.”
“Hadden . . . how did you know I was here alone?”
“The king has spies, lady. We planned to kidnap you when you were outside collecting your berries, but then when we learned you were all alone . . . I wanted to meet you. I wanted to see what the beautiful Edwina was truly like.”
“So would you have said no to the king if you had not liked what you saw?”
Hadden sighed as if it pained him to admit the truth. “I could not say no. No one says no to King John.”
“So you would have kidnapped me if I were enormous with crossed eyes?”
He grinned. “But I would not have fallen in love with you as I have, and nor would I have made such promises. Someone has smiled upon us; someone has cast a fortune spell.”
“Sir Hadden!” his men were sounding desperate.
They flew down the stairs and he swept her up onto his horse. As they moved off there was a shout in the distance and she turned to look back.
Sir Jerome had come to save his wealthy bride after all. She could see his large figure, red faced with fury, as he saw his bride-to-be kidnapped by the Scots.
“Will they catch us?” she asked breathlessly, holding tight to Hadden.
“Never,” he vowed.
And she laughed with joy as Hadden’s horse kicked through the ashes left from the parchment she had burnt there—the parchment containing the spell that was to change her life.