Aurora huffed. ’Twas an apt description for the turmoil. All of which needed to cease. Right now.
She drew in a deep breath and let fly. “Enough!”
Her shout had the desired effect. The servants froze, hands in the air, feet pausing mid-step, making like a cluster of human statuary. All eyes turned in her direction. Well good. At least she had their attention.
Hands planted on her hips, Aurora zeroed in on her first two victims. “You there, stop fighting over those trenchers and come here.”
The first maid bobbed a curtsy before her. “M’lady, we can explain.”
“I should hope so.” Noting the forlorn expression on the two maids’ faces, Aurora sighed. “What are your names?”
“I’m Ida and this here’s Mary, m’lady,” Ida said, pointing a finger in her companion’s direction.
“Ida, Mary, what is the meaning of this?”
Mary opened her mouth.
Ida piped up before Mary could answer. “’Tis my turn to serve the head table this eve, m’lady. But Mary’s insistin’ it’s her turn and, well, that just ain’t true.”
A blushing Mary jumped into the fray. “Nay, m’lady, ’tis my turn. Ida served him last eve and I—”
“Him?” Aurora’s eyes narrowed. “Him who?”
The two maids became very interested in the tips of their shoes. God’s teeth, the “him” had better not be Brigham. If he was charming the maids while playing with her, well…he wouldn’t live to see his next birthday.
Aurora raised both brows. “Well, girls, out with it.”
Mary peeked from beneath her eyelashes. “’Tis Sir Camden, m’lady. Ida has already had her, err, time with him and now—”
“You wish your chance at him?” Relief washed through her. Thank goodness. It wasn’t Brigham the maids were angling to— Wait a moment. Back up a step. Or five.
Aurora blinked, surprise spinning her full circle. Her reaction smacked of possession. Which didn’t make a lick of sense. Relief should be the last thing she felt, but…cripes. She couldn’t deny the sentiment. She buried it anyway, not wanting to examine her reaction to the fact the women wanted Camden—not the brute plaguing her—too closely.
“Aye, m’lady,” Mary nodded. “’Tis my turn.”
Looking from one maid to the other, Aurora stifled a sudden burst of amusement. Great heavens, the hunt was on and Camden the intended prey. “’Tis a special occasion, girls, so you may both serve the dais…on one condition. You must be on your best behavior. No more fighting over trenchers, is that clear?”
“Oh, aye m’lady, thank ye,” the maids said in unison, then curtsied before rushing off.
Satisfied the maids would behave themselves, Aurora turned her attention to sorting out the rest who waited to speak with her. Problem after problem cropped up. She sorted through each one, while ordering an overturned barrel of ale to be cleaned up and shooing a stray dog from beneath the cook’s table before directing the broken crockery be swept up. Next, she tended a kitchen lad whose arm had been burned by the roasting spit, soothed the cook’s ruffled feathers over an insult the butcher had dealt her, and helped clear mishandled trenchers out of the cauldron—all the while striving to convince the steward he would not be turned out of the keep if the impending disaster took hold, spilling mayhem out into the great hall.
“God give me strength,” she muttered after sending the last servant on his way.
About time too. The great hall wouldn’t wait much longer. She needed to check on the guests and ensure all was ready for the evening meal. So many details. So little room for error. But with the disaster in the kitchen averted, she could see to the rest. With a sigh, Aurora surveyed the kitchen one last time. Order reigned, helping efficiency along. Good. No time like the present to make a fast getaway.
Turning on her heel, Aurora crossed the chamber and opened the door. Hinges creaked as she slipped into the corridor beyond and— “You look like death warmed over.” The voice drifted out from the shadows.
Aurora yelped, jumping a foot in the air.
“For the love of…Nate!” Spinning full circle, she glared at her friend. “Have a care for my heart, why don’t you?”
“About to fail you, is it?” Nate grinned. “Where are you off to, Rory?”
“To the hall…”
“Not looking like that, you aren’t.”
Aurora glanced down at her gown. “What’s wrong with the way I look?”
“You look as if you have been run over by a slathering pack of dogs.” Nate frowned and looked her over. “By the saints, ’tis a good thing I found you. I turn my back for a moment and look what happens.”
She snorted, good humor returning. No bigger mother hen existed. Nate might irritate her upon occasion, but despite everything, she enjoyed his concern. Liked the fact he returned her affection. Fast friends. From the moment she’d met him, it had ever been the same. Besides, she couldn’t argue the point. He was right. She did look as though she’d been run over…and stomped on for good measure.
“For pity’s sake, what have you been doing, rolling about in the stables?”
“Nate.”
“You haven’t, have you?” he said, suspicion in his tone. “Where is Lord Brigham? Did he—”
“Of course not.” Gritting her teeth, Aurora prayed for patience. She took a breath to control her need to throttle him. Rolling about in the stables, indeed. What was the matter with him?
He huffed. “Well, come along. You can’t go in there looking like a wayward, filthy-faced Bohemian. All will think me a terrible maid.”
Aurora sighed, allowing herself to be pulled in her friend’s wake. Never let it be said that she didn’t possess a modicum of patience. Otherwise, Nate would’ve met his demise long ago—a demise that wouldn’t have been pretty. Such a pleasant thought, one that helped her to imagine all the lovely possibilities as Nate towed her behind him, all the while delivering a blistering lecture on ladylike manners and decorum.
Which, of course, she blocked out. ’Twas the only option. Lord save her from meddlesome, albeit lovable, half-wits.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ravished by a Brute
As Nate spun her full circle and yanked at the laces on her gown, Aurora quelled the urge to tap her toe in impatience. Or turn around and poke him in the eye. Childish, she knew, but…honestly. How much fussing could one man do? A lot, apparently. Almost a quarter of an hour had passed since he’d dragged her into the chamber, stripped her out of her soiled gown, and nagged her into another; all the while lecturing her about God only knew what, for reasons she refused to contemplate. Now—to her everlasting annoyance—she was late.
A full quarter of an hour late.
Never a good thing when dealing with a hungry supper crowd.
“Nate, I swear you are mothering me into an early grave,” Aurora said, flinching as he tugged a lock of with her hair into place. God save and preserve her. He took his duties as her maid far too seriously. “I am going down to supper, not to the King’s court.”
“Well, Lord knows someone needs to do it,” Nate said, his exasperation telling. “Otherwise, you’d be forever prancing about in a dismal state of attire.”
Aurora glared at him. “I do not prance, as you well know. And, there is no time for this.”
“I have finished anyway. You look lovely.”
“About time too.”
“Ingrate.”
“Lack-wit,” she said on the way to the door.
Aurora’s lips twitched as she exited the chamber. She shook her head. Trust Nate to make her laugh. He always did, banishing her annoyance with little more than a well-placed comment. Which meant—despite his antics—she never stayed vexed with him for long. Giving into a smile, she turned right and made haste down the deserted corridor. The main staircase lay just ahead, a couple of turns and one narrow hallway away. ’Twas a little eerie—dark as it was. But then, that was understandable. Most of the torches had been tak
en into the hall to ensure there would be enough light for the night’s entertainment. Few guests claimed the privilege of sleeping above stairs, so the inconvenience of a darkened passageway was of little import in the scheme of things.
Still, she searched the shadows, looking for threats in dark corners. A rampant case of wariness, no doubt. But like it or nay, the accidents worried her. So many in such a short amount of time couldn’t be a coincidence…Aurora frowned…could it? It seemed unlikely, and yet, beyond paranoid too. Her uncle would have to be mad to try anything inside Alvars Keep. Then again, Lord Cedric had never been one to shy away from difficult. Or the near impossible. He preferred a bold plan…
With messy end results.
Rubbing her arms to chase away the chill, Aurora quickened her pace, eager to reach the light at the top of the stairs. The sooner she arrived and signaled for the servants to begin serving, the better. Experience told her the combination of empty bellies and too much drink didn’t go well together. The men would brawl. The women would cry foul and— “In a hurry, little heart?”
With a gasp, Aurora whirled around, fists raised, heart hammering. A moment passed before the voice registered and she recognized its owner. Oh, nay. Not again. He was forever lurking in dark corners, waiting for the chance to pounce. That she’d managed to avoid him the past two days was as much a testament to her cunning as to God’s grace.
Lowering her hands, Aurora squinted through the gloom, only able to make out his silhouette at the end of the corridor. One shoulder propped against stone, he leaned against the wall, tall shape looming, booted feet crossed at the ankles, arms folded over his chest. A torch flickered a pace or two beyond him, illuminating him from behind.
“My lord?”
“You seem in a hurry. Rushing off to supper, are you?”
The timbre of his voice struck a chord and spiraled out, chasing goose bumps across her skin. The wave of sensation spread until her breath hitched, her heart hammered, and her nipples pearled against her under-chemise. She swallowed hard, then blew out a long breath, trying to control her response to him.
Not that it did any good. She always reacted in inappropriate ways whenever Brigham came around.
Shuffling her feet, Aurora cleared her throat. “Aye, and I am late. I really must be off.”
“They have already started…without us.”
Pushing away from the wall, Brigham strode toward her. He stopped a hair’s breath away, so close his legs brushed the skirts of her gown. Aurora hesitated. She needed to retreat to safer ground…right now. But for some reason, she couldn’t. Mayhap didn’t want to either. And as his scent reached out to stroke her, she betrayed herself and breathed deep, drawing him in to her lungs. Hmm, he smelled so good, like heat lightning and exotic spice…of decadent promises made in dark corners.
“Oh, well then…” Nibbling on her lower lip, she sidestepped, intending to move past him. He shifted left, blocking her play and…drat it all…her path to freedom. “I will go and ensure all is in order.”
“You cannot continue to ignore me, Aurora. I’ll not allow it.”
“I haven’t been avoiding you.” A lie. Big, bold and beautiful. Aurora didn’t care. ’Twas self-preservation, plain and simple. The only way to win was to avoid him…at all costs.
“Liar,” he murmured, fingering the tie at her shoulder.
She took a shallow breath and retreated. He followed, crowding her until she bumped the solid stone wall at her back. “I have been busy with the wedding preparations, ’tis all. I’ve had no time for outings.”
“Nay, little heart, no more,” he said, his tone so low she shivered in reaction. Placing his hands against the wall on either side of her shoulders, he leaned in until his mouth brushed the sensitive curve of her ear. “You’ve my word that I’ll not…but it’s past wanting now. I need to touch you, Aurora. Just a wee bit.”
“The guests, my lord,” she whispered, trying to hold the line and deny him. But God, it was hard. He was so warm, so hard-bodied and beautiful…so terribly tempting. “I must ensure all is well.”
His mouth traced her temple, then feathered along the arch of her eyebrow. “Let them wait. This is more important.”
His breath whispered against her cheekbone. She quivered, enthralled by his heat as he cradled her face in his large hands. With a tug, he pressed in, molding his length to hers. Lost in the sensual web he wove around her, Aurora forgot to object. Mind and body betraying her, she softened against her will and pressed her hands to the front of his tunic. Muscle rippled against her fingertips. His heart pounded, each thump reverberating beneath her palms.
Lord have mercy. He was magnificent, every sensual, provocative inch of him. Awareness bloomed, and in a flash, she recognized the sensation. She wanted him. Yearned for him, the ache so intense she did the unthinkable, let go of right, embraced wrong, and offered him her mouth.
Brigham groaned. “God, Aurora.”
She hummed. God had nothing to do with it. But Brigham? Hmm, in that moment, he was everything. And as he took what she offered, kissing her deep, Aurora gave in—gave up, let go—and surrendered without reservation. ’Twas too late for anything else. She wanted what he promised. All the heat. All the pleasure. Every bit of his skill focused on her.
To heck with reasonable. Leave it all behind. The moment belonged to her and the incredible man in her arms.
Burying her hands in his hair, she lost all shyness, opened wide, welcomed him in as his tongue brushed hers. She moaned his name. He growled in return, delving deep, making her burn, cranking her so tight she didn’t care what happened next. As long it involved him, she’d follow, make way, push the consequences away to stay in the moment with him.
His mouth left hers for a moment. She tightened her grip on him and, pressing up onto her tiptoes, prolonged the contact.
He fed her another gentle kiss. “Loving, we should—”
“More,” she whispered against this mouth. “I need more.”
“Christ.” Breathing hard, Brigham nipped her, then drew away. She held on tight and with a tug, pulled him back. With a flick, she licked over his bottom lip. He shuddered against her. “Sweet vixen, I’ll give you all. Anything…everything you want.”
Good to know. Even better to experience. And as he shifted in her embrace, dipped his head, and deepened the kiss, Aurora couldn’t deny the truth. She yearned to know…all of him. Every single thing Brigham could show her. Teach her. But more than anything, she wanted to know what she would feel as he pleased her. So she surrendered, allowing him to rule. To press her hard against the wall at her back, spread her thighs, and thrust one of his own between.
All without a single murmur of protest.
One hand cupping her nape, the other traveled over her ribcage. Quivering in his arms, Aurora came to life in a steady hum of pleasure. Praising her with gentle words and heated touches, he grew bold, moved in and…
She gasped, arching against him as his thumb brushed over her breast. One stroke followed by another while Brigham pressed his thigh against her core and urged her to ride. Grasping her bottom, he helped her move, increased the pace, making her moan. Straining in an effort to please him, heat spiraled into intense sensation, pricking her skin, picking her up, pushing her hard and…oh God. Heaven help her. It was too much too soon, yet she couldn’t think straight. Her brain was gone, off floating in a sea of oh-so-good.
Broken, breathy sounds left her throat as he touched, teased and tasted. ’Twas heaven. ’Twas bliss unleashed. But that didn’t change the facts. The intensity of his desire frightened her, helping her regain her wits. As the passion fueled fog lifted just enough for her to catch a thought, Aurora fisted her hands in his tunic and turned her mouth away from his.
“My lord, mayhap, you…I’m…’tis not…” She trailed off as Brigham’s teeth grazed the side of her throat. He nipped her pulse point. Delight swirled, tipping her chin up to give him greater access. Need blistering her from the ins
ide out, she pushed against his shoulder. “I can’t…think. I shouldn’t—”
Easing the embrace, Brigham lifted his head. Dark gaze searching hers, he returned to kiss her softly. Once. Twice. A third time, and then again. She trembled in the face of his tenderness. No one had ever been so patient with her before. No one but him.
“’Tis all right, loving.” Cupping her jaw, he coaxed her to calmness, each caress lazy, his hold gentle and reassuring. “I’ve got you. Don’t be afraid, I’ve got you.”
Strangely soothed by his slow kisses and rougher nips, Aurora relaxed against him. As soon as she relinquished control, Brigham picked her up. A quick pivot. A gentle shift, and he was on the move, striding down the corridor, passing through shadows on the way to an unknown destination. Alarm bells should have gone off inside her head in an appeal to self-preservation. Her conscience, however—along with rational thought—had disappeared. Now she sat in silence, need drowning out reason as she descended into a heated pool of longing. Naught else mattered. Just him…that she was in his arms, pressed to his length, his too-beautiful mouth against her skin as Brigham whispered promises that made her toes curl.
Forget rational thought.
Nothing left to do but feel. Go with the flow. Follow his lead and consent as he laid her down on something soft. It gave beneath her weight, silk rustling as Brigham joined her on…what exactly? A bed? It must be, but she didn’t care. Not anymore, and as he settled against her—his strong thigh between her own, his mouth skimming her throat, his hard body against her own—she let go and arched, giving him all the access he demanded.
Aurora murmured his name, the pleasure so intense she tightened inside when he claimed her with an open-mouthed kiss. Carnality come to life, it was pure ecstasy. Heated. Delicious. All Brigham.
He thrust his hips forward, and she felt him.
Hard and thick, he moved against her thigh.
With a whimper, she pulled him closer, needing more, anything to ease the ache between her thighs. As she came apart, the loss of control dragged wildness into the foreground. Her whole universe narrowed, fixating on something elusive, something she couldn’t catch or understand. Oh, God. He was incredible. A beautiful, hard-bodied dream. The heat of his caresses burned away inhibition, making her aware he alone held the answer. Brigham knew what she wanted—what she craved and yearned to capture—and only he could give it to her.
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