“She was practically offering herself to you before me, your wife.” The anger won. “I don’t think you owe her anything.”
He laid his weapon and belt on the table beneath the single window, now shuttered against the night and covered by heavy curtains. “Losing a spouse, even one who does not claim the usual emotional attachment, is not something to be mocked.” He shoved his hands through his hair. “No matter what the circumstances, I should have been kinder.”
Tension gathered between his shoulders.
As I watched him, I realized that five years since his first wife’s death wasn’t a long time. The three years since my father’s death seemed an eternity of hardship and toil. When I lingered on the strength of my longing to see him again, his death felt like it happened only yesterday. Losing a spouse could hardly have been less traumatic, especially if she left a living reminder of their union, Darnay.
“Did you love her?”
“Love who?” He turned to search my face in confusion.
“Your wife.”
“Elenawyn?” He considered the question with confusion. “Ours wasn’t a matching of love. From her perspective, I served a purpose. I felt affection for her. We rubbed well together, but not closely.”
“Then how did you end up married to her? Was it another royal decree?”
He shook his head as he sat on the edge of the bed to work at removing his boots. “Quaren asked me, she needed me, and I was the only one who could help at the time.” He dropped the first boot onto the floor with a thud. “Do you mind if we don’t discuss this now. I hoped for something very different tonight.” The second boot came free and fell. He plucked them from the floor and crossed to set them beneath the table. Turning back to face me, he raised an eyebrow. “You are planning on sleeping, right?”
“Yes.” My head ached with all the new information. I couldn’t figure out how Quaren could have possibly figured into Irvaine’s marriage with his first wife. The fact she needed him did make sense. Irvaine would assist a woman in need. “Was she Quaren’s sister?”
“By marriage, not by birth.”
My thoughts stuttered and my mind went blank.
A feather-light brush of a finger against my jaw startled me. Irvaine stood before me. His hand lifted my chin so his dark eyes could roam my face. Their unspoken query pulled at my gaze, capturing them in a web of fascination. “It is not a hard thing to explain. He was married to her sister.”
“You and Quaren are brothers-in-law?”
“We were. Now rest your mind. Your thoughts are pulling at your brows and tightening your mouth. What is it that worries you so? It is that I was married before? Do you compare yourself to her?” He dropped his attention to my mouth. “Don’t, Brielle. Elenawynn was like ice, cold and painful. Incapable of love, she treated every kindness with suspicion. You are not her.”
His hand released my chin so that his thumb could brush my bottom lip. “Warm, vibrant, and alive, you are capable of far more than affection. Give me a chance, Brielle. Keep your heart open. Give me a chance.”
His mouth lingered a breath from mine. Not touching, barely breathing, he waited. My whole being cried out for him to bridge the small span between us, but he ignored my silent scream. A heartbeat passed…seven…twelve in quick succession. Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore. I stepped forward, pushed up on my toes, and met his challenge.
The slight pressure of lips and his gentle response brought an unexpectedly intense reaction. Acute awareness of him flooded me. He radiated warmth and the heady scents of soap and pine. My fingers entangled in his tunic in an effort to balance against the onslaught of my senses. He followed my movement, mouth never leaving mine. Liquid heat sluiced through my veins, comforting and entreating. Slightly frightened by the strength of my desire for more, I stepped back.
His hands spanned my ribs and stopped me from moving away more than a few inches. “Why are you retreating?”
“I am afraid.”
“What do you fear?”
“Doing something wrong.”
“Do you trust me?”
Flashes of memory from our wedding night teased. He had asked me exactly that question then. It seemed much more distant than a few nights ago. So much had happened in such a short span of time.
“Yes.”
“Then trust me to take care of you.”
I did.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Thirteen
Morning came too soon. I woke to Tomas’ absence. When I ventured a hand out from beneath the covers to look for him, the bedding was cool to the touch. The soft shuffles of someone moving about in the predawn darkness brought my attention to the only light source in the room. The recently revived fire outlined Tomas easing his under-tunic over his head. Chainmail lay in a heap at his feet. His breastplate and other armor leaned up against the wall.
Memories of last night urged me from the warm cocoon of covers. Frigid air greeted me as I climbed out of bed to join him. My bare feet against the icy wooden boards brought my breath hissing in through my teeth.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Getting dressed.” I pulled the top blanket off the bed with me to wrap around my chemise as I searched for my clothing.
He crossed to catch my arm. “I don’t leave for hours.”
“Time I don’t want to waste.” I looked up into his face. The now familiar planes of his cheeks, the firm line of his mouth, the inky depths of his eyes, even the riot of his dark curls called to my fingers. I wanted to spend more time exploring them. They were mine to memorize; just as the rest of him was mine to explore. If only he didn’t have to leave. “I know you will come back, but I don’t want to lose a moment…” in case you don’t return. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t speak the words. They caught on the lump of fear at the back of my throat. Kurios, please be merciful. Bring him back to me.
“I am only going to train. I will come back for you so we can break our fast together.”
“Let me come.”
The surprise in his eyes made me laugh.
“I would love to watch you spar. I might learn something.”
He smiled and released my arm to brush the side of my face. His fingers radiated tempting warmth against my cold skin. “I forgot how many noses you have broken. Dress warmly, the water in the wash basin iced over last night.”
I nodded and looked around for my gear. After finding it beneath a chair in the corner, I chose my practical brown woolen leggings, a rust red tunic that fell below the knee, and a forest green surcoat slit at the sides for ease of movement. The red accented my hair, or at least that was what Loren claimed when she dyed it last spring. Once I belted my weapons about my waist, I set to combing my hair. I separated the strands for a braid.
“Leave it.”
“What?” I turned to find him watching me intensely. Now dressed in padded jerkin and most of his armor, he lacked only his mail, breastplate, and helmet to be completely ready for battle. He gestured to where my fingers were entangled.
“Leave it loose for now. I like it wild and down around your shoulders.” His gaze skimmed me from head to foot. A half smile pulled at his mouth as his focus settled on my face. “In fact, I think I like you just as much in leggings as I do in a skirt.”
Dropping the mail in his hands to the floor with a thump, he crossed the space between us in two strides. Catching my face between his hands, he pressed his mouth to mine. Visions of the night before flooded my head as my senses honed in on the sweet pleasure of his kiss and the delightful possession of his fingers in my hair. My arms encircled his neck, pulling the rest of me up to meet him. For the first time in my life I was thankful for my height.
After what seemed like forever and only a few seconds, he withdrew with a ragged groan. “This is madness. I don’t want to leave you.” He cradled my face with his right hand, caressing my bottom lip with his thumb. The desire in his eyes almost prompted me to plead for him to heed the impuls
e. Instead, I closed my eyes.
I forced myself to say the words. “I don’t want you to leave, but we both know you must. For Rhynan and for our future, you must do this.”
The depth of his sigh made my chest ache. He kissed me once more, deeply, and then stepped away.
He returned to where his mail lay and claimed it from the floor. With his back still turned away, he said, “Perhaps you shouldn’t come to watch me train.”
The sadness in his voice brought my head and attention around to focus on him. He avoided my gaze by concentrating on adjusting his mail. Disquiet undermined my confidence. What had I said to bring on this change?
“Why ever not?”
Something about the way he held his shoulders as he reached for his breastplate dropped a thought into my head. Had he interpreted my reminder of his responsibilities as rejection? Before I lost my nerve I blurted out, “I am not Elenawyn.”
“What?” He stared at me.
“I wasn’t pushing you away. I care about you and don’t want you to die. I…” the words stuck in my throat. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. “If only your title and lands were at stake, I would beg you to stay.” I couldn’t look at him for fear he would laugh at me.
“Thank you, Brielle.” He took a deep breath. “If Darnay and Elise didn’t need someone to care for them here, I would take you with me. I want you near me.”
Pleasure at his words flooded my cheeks with heat. I hid it by concentrating on donning my heavy cloak. “Could you show me how to improve my skills? After you finish your own training, that is.”
He smiled. The brief lifting of worry from his face made my stomach flutter. Kurios, please bring him home safe and whole.
He offered me his hand. “Come. Show me what you know. I will help how I can.” I claimed his helmet from the table and took his hand.
We navigated the quiet corridors and stairs to the bailey in silence. Only the sounds of the kitchen workers beginning their day followed us out the door into the gray light of pre-dawn.
“You two are up early.” Rathenridge fell into step next to Tomas. His easy lope contrasted with Tomas’ purposeful stride. I lengthened my normal stride to keep up with the two of them. They matched each other’s steps without apparent thought.
“Moriah not up yet? She used to join you for your morning training.”
“Not since the birth of our first child, she hasn’t. The children tire her out these days. Enjoy your time alone, my lady, while you have it. Once the children come, you will wish you savored it more.”
“I intend to.” I glanced Rathenridge’s way only to encounter Tomas’ gaze. The intense attention of his regard warmed my face.
“Weapon preference?” Rathenridge asked as we passed beneath the open arch into the practice yard. A handful of men already spread across the area.
“Broad sword,” Tomas replied. “You should watch from a distance, Brielle.”
“Over there would be safe.” Rathenridge pointed toward a crude wooden bench in the shadow of the curtain wall.
I started across the center of the yard toward the seat only to wish I had chosen a different route. The men stopped their practice to greet me. I was bowed to and asked if I required anything. One of them claimed my hand and offered to escort me the rest of the way.
I looked up into his boyish features and wondered if he truly thought I was incapable of walking across a field without help. I opened my mouth to ask him just that when Tomas appeared at my shoulder.
“I will retain that privilege for myself, soldier.”
“Very well, my lord.” The soldier bowed over my hand. “I am always at your service, my lady.” Finally releasing my hand, he returned to his sparring partner without even a backward glance.
Tomas glowered at his back. “You have my permission to break his nose if he ever handles you in such a high-handed manner again. Better yet, I will speak to him myself.” He claimed his helmet.
Rathenridge joined us, blunted broadswords in his hands. “Don’t be hasty, Tomas. Rolendis and her ladies sopped up flowery drivel and grand gestures. Kolbent encouraged it, fancied himself a hero of high romance. Rolendis and her ladies bestowed smiles and small favors on the men who fawned the most. You can’t blame the men who haven’t noticed the new Lady Irvaine is more discerning. Their confusion is understandable considering she puts Rolendis’ beauty to shame.”
I almost choked.
“Beware, Aiden. I doubt Moriah takes kindly to you complimenting other men’s wives.”
Rathenridge laughed. “I can’t help speaking the truth. Besides, Moriah outshines every woman in every way. She need not fear me noticing your lady, Tomas. My wife is the only woman for me. Come, show me how soft you have become.”
“Soft? I am not the one who has been sitting by the fire in a great hall, enjoying my wife, begetting children and growing flabby.”
Rathenridge’s lean frame could not be called flabby by any stretch of a troubadour’s tongue. Tomas’ physique was the opposite of soft. Both men confused me even more by grinning at each other.
“Are you going to hand me a weapon and allow me to defend myself?” Tomas asked, stepping away from me.
Rathenridge threw him the sword in his right hand, retaining the weapon in his left. Before I reached the bench, the two descended into playful jibes and jeers as they exchanged blows. I watched, admiring both of their skill.
Tomas moved with surprising agility considering his size. Rathenridge’s movements took on more of a fluid quality. However, he did seem to rely heavily on his occasionally random strikes in odd spots in attempting to keep Tomas off-balance. They moved across the practice area, weaving back and forth between the other trainers. Neither man gained the upper hand for more than a few strikes.
Finally, Rathenridge began to show signs of fatigue. His blocks grew sloppy. He stopped attacking with his words. After a few more minutes, he made a relatively minor error of lunging the wrong direction when Tomas feinted left, exposing his right side. Tomas pressed his advantage, scoring a resounding whack to Rathenridge’s breastplate. The two of them fell back, breathing hard and circling.
“I wouldn’t recommend another match, my lord.” Antano’s voice at my shoulder made me jump. I hadn’t noticed his arrival thanks to my concentration on the bout before me. “Breakfast awaits you in the great hall. Your men are preparing for departure soon after dawn.”
Tomas glanced at the brightening in the eastern sky. “Well met, Aiden. I am afraid we will have to rematch another day.”
Too winded for words, Rathenridge saluted with his sword.
Tomas crossed the field to me. Despite the stink of sweat, I couldn’t resist answering his smile with one of my own.
“Feel more confident that I will return?”
Just the possibility that he wouldn’t knotted my stomach. Some of the anxiety must have reached my face because he sobered instantly.
“I am sorry. I have lived with the constant reality of death for so long I have lost the sensitivity of those who haven’t.”
“Don’t die,” I pleaded. I was all too aware that he possessed no control over when he would die. Only Kurios held that power.
He dropped his sword in the dirt, caught my head between his hands, and took my mouth in a heated kiss. For several thundering heartbeats, I was aware of nothing beyond him. Finally releasing me, his black gaze burned into mine.
“If there is breath in my body, Brielle, I will return to you. I promise.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Come, wife, let us eat.”
The following hour passed more quickly than I anticipated it would.
I ate little.
Once Tomas finished working his way through his repast, he escorted me back to our room to gather his gear. Jarvin took the saddlebags and disappeared in the direction of the stairs to the stables. Tomas waited until he was out of sight before claiming my hands. His tan fingers traced the length of mine.
“I expect we will en
counter the caravan on our way to Wisenvale. We will send them on almost immediately. I will speak with Darnay and tell him to seek you out.”
“How will I know him?”
“He and Elise will be the only two children in the caravan. You will know him.”
Tomas kissed the back of my fingers. His mouth lingered on the one that held the simple gold band symbolizing our relationship.
“I instructed Horacian to give you the tour of the castle workings in my stead.” He lowered our joined hands while still stroking my ring finger. “You are my heir. Should something happen to me, and I…” He looked into my face, tracing my features with his gaze. “Before I came to fetch you, I secured a promise from King Mendal. He will allow you the right to remarry who you wish and still retain your widow’s portion, half my property.”
“But Darnay– ” His finger pressed against my lips.
“Darnay will be well provided for. Mendal will designate a guardian for him and you will be free to do as you wish.”
I didn’t want to be free. The reality struck me hard. Memories of the village men leaving and never returning twisted my stomach. Freedom was not worth Tomas’ life. Before I could tell him, Antano appeared on the stairs to the hall.
“My lord, the men await you.”
“We are coming.”
He waited until Antano turned before kissing me once more. “We won’t have much opportunity in the yard.”
He claimed my left hand by intertwining his fingers in mine. Then he picked up his helmet and led me down the stairs. The great hall echoed as we strode across it. No one lingered in the passage, but the massive doors to the inner bailey stood open. Beyond them, a crowd gathered. Our appearance caused a sensation. The people parted, clearing a path from the keep doors to the entrance of the outer bailey where the soldiers waited.
“Ready?” Tomas asked.
“No, but I will manage.”
“The pageantry will all be over soon enough.”
I opened my mouth to explain that was not what I dreaded, but a trumpet blast from the outer bailey put an end to conversation. We stepped forward.
Duty: a novel of Rhynan Page 9