“I c–c–can,” she stuttered. Knowing only one thing to distract him, she pushed toward him, instead of pulling away. The moment her bare body, warm and moist from excitement and the remainder of his seed, hit his hand, he was through. Pleasure filled her at how quickly he responded to her.
The chase had been exhilarating and he didn’t bother with her dress. Shoving her roughly to the ground, he pushed it above her hips. She laughed with pleasure as she watched him fight with the laces he had just tied, tearing them in his frenzy to release himself.
Free, he drove into her and kissed her passionately. He wrapped his fingers through her hair and forced the kiss deeper. Painful swirls of pleasure pulsed through her and begged to be set free.
She wrapped her legs around him and moved her lips to his ear. “Harder,” she whispered boldly.
He responded with a burst of speed and power that she had not known he possessed. Pushing up onto his arms, he pounded into her with wild abandon. Her screams of passion echoed through the trees as she felt him spasm deep inside her.
He rolled off her, thinking if she was going to run now there would be no stopping her. He had done well to roll over, let alone run. But she apparently had no intention of running. Pulling her dress down around her, she watched him with an amused look on her face as he struggled to get his belt fastened once more. Moving his hands, she finished buckling it for him, and then kissed him gently. First on the nose, then the mouth. A tender kiss that had nothing to with passion, but set every nerve in his body afire.
Van deepened the kiss, making his mind numb with the gentleness of it. The love he felt in that one soft kiss tore at his heart. It swelled, hurting his chest and clogging his throat. Wrapping his arm around her sun warmed shoulders, he pulled her away and looked deep into her eyes.
It was not the first time he had stared at her eyes, so black they seemed bottomless. They were so right, so full of life and so familiar to him. He felt as if he had known her all his life or at least a lot longer than the short time since he had met her.
Deciding that now was not the time to ponder the questions of where he knew her from, he pulled her down into the crock of his shoulder. She laid her head against his bare chest and wrapped her arm around his waist.
They lay like that for several hours, staring out over the ripples in the lake and talking of the land and the castle, the people around it and children.
“Will you be all right with me going to see my father?” Peter was surprised by the comment and more, by his gut wrenching reaction to it.
He still harbored a fear that her father was the thing she needed to take care of before she could leave. He took a shallow breath and hoped his voice came out smoother than his nerves were feeling. “Aye. I must say that I will be upset that you are gone, but it will be fine. Do you plan to go soon?” He hoped the answer was no.
“Aye. On the morrow.”
“Will you be gone long?” What he really wanted to ask was if she was going to come back if she got things worked out with her father.
She tightened her grip on him and snuggled closer. “Maybe two days, maybe less if things do not go as planned.”
He smiled.
Silence fell over them as the sun began to set, throwing magnificent colors across the surface of the secluded lake. It was a peaceful silence and Peter wondered how many people he could just sit with and do nothing, and still be comfortable. He could think of none.
The sun had set and he turned to tell his bride they should go before it got too dark, just to find her eyes closed, head still supported by his shoulder. “Vanessa, my love.” No response. He moved slightly and her head rocked, still she did not wake. It was unusual, she was a light sleeper. “Vanessa,” this time a little louder.
“Huh?” She blinked several times and then smiled up at him. “What?”
“It is getting dark. We should go. I had a hard time waking you.” He said it with a smile, but it sent a panicked look onto her face. “What?”
Van just shook her head with an unsettled feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. He got to his feet, pulling her along. She allowed the assistance, feeling a little dazed and unsure. How could he have tried to wake her and her not known it. That was impossible. She had never slept through anything.
Then she knew. The last thing she remembered was thinking she had never felt more secure, more safe. She had always known she had loved him, but it was more, she realized...She turned to him in wonder. “I trust you.”
He just looked at her for a long moment. “I am glad. It helps in a marriage if there is trust.”
“Nay, you don’t understand.” How was she to tell him? She had only trusted one person enough to let herself fall into a deep sleep. Only Verges. She trusted him with her life, her heart, and every secret that she had.
She trusted Richard as well, but was never comfortable to sleep around him. She had always been afraid that she would talk in her sleep.
Looking deep into Peter’s questioning eyes, she wondered, should she tell him the truth, show her trust in him. Opening her mouth to tell him, she changed her mind. She tried once more, only to shake her head in confusion.
Now was not the time and Peter seemed to realize it. He smiled and shook his head. “Let’s get back to the castle and when you are ready you can tell me.”
She was surprised to feel tears threatening as she threw herself into his embrace. “Let’s go home.”
A comforting tenderness seemed to swim through her veins, warming her soul as she thought of that word. Home. It was a wonderful word she decided. She had never missed not having a home, until she had one.
In the massive dining chamber, the smells of the roasted meats overcame Van as she sat beside her husband. She rubbed her leg against his beneath the table and smiled at the small shivers of heat that exploded from the contact.
“Lord Grayweist, may I ask you a question?” Richard asked. At Peter’s nod he continued. “Have you heard anything about the Dark Knight?”
Van choked on the meat she had just swallowed, the soft spicy taste of the roasted pork turning to dust in her mouth.
Peter tapped her back and handed her the goblet of ale. “Are you all right, now?”
She refused to meet his eyes. “Fine, I just swallowed wrong, I guess.”
Turning back to Richard, he shook his head. “I have heard not. You would think we would have heard something by now. I am beginning to wonder if something may have happened to that arrogant little snot.”
Van had no control of her tongue as the words just tumbled out. “What do you mean arrogant little snot?” Realizing what she had said, she stuttered “I–I mean, that does–that does not seem to be the way you should talk about a knight.”
The men laughed. “You have no idea who he was.” Peter turned to the others at the table, waving to the men who had come with Richard. “Ask any of them, they will know.”
She declined, but sat back out of the conversation. Then wondered how to get out of the room when the talk went in the direction of her temperament, well that of the Dark Knight’s.
Laughter came easily as they swapped stories of him. Peter leaned back with a fond grin. “I remember when he first came to me, asking to be my personal squire. I had one already or I would have taken him. He had shown no fear as he had stood before me.”
Van remembered the day well. She had been terrified and had been sure that she was turned down because of that fear. She was delighted to know that he had thought her brave.
Her face heated up with embarrassment and she fiddled with her goblet of ale. She had gone to him for two reasons. One was because he was the king’s champion and two because she was in love and wanted to be closer to him.
Peter’s voice drew her attention. “He was young to be a squire and I was sure he would not go far, end up dead or quit. I was sure it would be one or the other.” He gave a humorless laugh. “If I had known how he would risk his life to save me I would have had taken
him. Not like the one I had. Ran at the first show of real trouble.”
Grant slapped Peter on the back laughing. “You remember that boy, standing up to the doctor. He had seemed so noble. From what I hear, he had quite the reputation with the ladies.”
Van slouched, trying to avoid anyone’s attention. All she wanted was to escape from this room. No, she thought sadly—all she wanted was to join in as the Dark Knight.
From the side table Devon put his word in as well. “He had so many mistresses I think that was the only reason we did the tournaments, to get money to send to the ladies.” This brought rank laughter and yells from the entire room.
Van smiled. She missed the way the men were together. Even here, in her presence, they were restrained, as if she were a delicate thing that would be damaged if the wrong words were said. She hated it.
They were not like that with the maids. No, with them they were rough and loud, like she had been when she was around the maids. Hitting their rear ends and acting just as lewd as the other men. She missed it. The stories of Van the knight were rolling around, until she could take it no more.
How was she so far away from who she was supposed to be? Could she not just be the person she was happiest being?
She wondered as she kissed Peter’s cheek and mounted the stairs who that was. She thought she was a knight. That was who life had made her because there were no options. But what if her mom was wrong? What if she had lied?
Even as Peter came in the room a few moments later, she was still in an upheaval about her identity.
Soon he had her thoughts on nothing but the pleasures of him.
Falling asleep sometime later, well sated, she wondered if her father could answer any questions or if he would just add more confusion to her already weary mind.
CHAPTER 20
Van walked toward the carriage with the small army bag she had carried since she had first became a squire hanging limply from her left hand. She slid her right hand through the arm of her husband.
Peter looked questioningly at the small bag, but said nothing. The bag carried what little clothes she believed were needed for a couple of days. Van glanced over at Peter, down to the bag, and then back to the awaiting carriage. She was not about to divulge anything without being questioned. If he asked, she would say it was a gift, which was not a lie. Richard had given it to her when she became his squire.
She nodded to the driver as he opened the door and stepped back. Peter took her elbow and pulled her around to face him, causing her to gasp softly.
Looking up into his face, she was surprised to see the concern and worry etched into his handsome features. His brow was tightly knitted with lines and his jaw was tight. He tried a smile that must have felt as awkward as it looked because he let it fall quickly away.
She turned long enough to lay her bag on the hard seat and then she allowed him to pull her into his arms. The hug was quick, but he had held her tightly. His arms gripped her almost painfully and she could feel him trembling.
She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but she could not seem to make the words come out. She wanted to know why he looked worried. She was only going to see her father.
The horses snorted loudly and pawed at the dusty ground, making the buckles of the harnesses jingle. Van noticed that the driver had disappeared, probably to give the two newlyweds a moment alone.
She smiled up at Peter and kissed him gently. He helped her into the carriage, shut the door almost reluctantly, and hit it to signal to the driver they were ready.
The carriage lurched forward and the horses whinnied anxiously. She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. Her decision to go had not been an easy one. Knowing she owed Matthew the courtesy of at least hearing him out, and wanting to give him the opportunity, were not the same thing.
She wanted to keep believing what she had known all her life, but as a leader and a knight she was obligated to consider all sides of an argument before making the final decisions.
She shuddered and realized she was frightened, scared of what knowledge he might bring to her. As confused as she was, now she knew it could get worse.
If she believed her mother, then there was a valid reason she had ended up as a knight. But if her mother lied, then all of it was for nothing. Van did not want to think that her life was for nothing.
As much as she was scared, she was also curious. Curious about Matthew, a man who might not be as he was portrayed, and surprisingly, about her mother as well. She had never stopped to think of it before, but she realized she did not know her mother very well.
Van had been sent to Grayweist when she was only ten to live and train. Her mother had refused to come see her at the castle and Van had not seen her again until she was seventeen and a knight. By then Van had been able to come and go as she pleased.
At least she now understood why her mother had been unwilling to see her at the castle. With Van’s father living right down the road, her mother would have been recognized.
The carriage jolted as Van slipped into the past and she could see her mother, vibrant and alive striding around the small home in Junket.
***
“Remember, it is very important no one finds out you are a girl.” Patricia’s voice was strained and ragged. “Your father is searching for you and his men were close to finding you. They were in the village yesterday.” She looked panicked, packing Van’s things into a small case in jerky motions.
“Aye, Mother, I understand.” And she did. She had been drilled on it daily as she grew. Now ten years of age, she was well aware of the dangers she faced. “What I don’t understand is why I have to leave. Why I have to become a page.”
“You have the potential. It has been remarked upon by many of the men that I should have already sent you to page training. They have seen you with the other boys.” Patricia pulled open a drawer and pulled several shirts from it. She tossed them into the small satchel.
Van watched her mother’s rapid actions with worry eating at her innards. Her stomach clenched and she sent up a prayer that she could handle the new challenge. She clenched her fists behind her back to keep herself from grasping her mother’s hands and begging her to stop.
Her mother turned back toward the dresser and pulled open another drawer. “Thompson has even commented that you are already better than the others, faster and stronger, and although as the son of a surgeon you will not be eligible for knighthood, you will still enjoy being a squire.” She glanced at her with a nervous smile. “I just know you will.”
“I am not a boy though, Mother. How am I to do these things?” Standing in the center of the room, she could only watch as her only possessions went into the case. She looked around the small meager room with a pang of sadness. She did not have much, and they were always struggling to make a decent living, but she had never gone without food or shoes.
She did not want to leave her home and her mother. It was not an easy life there in the small village. She’d had to work hard to help out. But she did not want to leave it for something that she was unsure she could even do.
“You will be fine.”
Unconvinced, Van watched her mother’s frantic packing. Suddenly, Patricia stopped, turning on Van with wide eyes. “You enjoy those things, the sword practice, the horse riding, the daggers?”
Van sucked in a breath. Dagger practice was forbidden to children under twelve by the elders of the village. She tried to give her mother a shocked and innocent look. She was sure it looked as wrong as it felt.
“Do not look at me like that,” Patricia said. “Everyone knows that you boys do those things, forbidden or not.” Her mother put her hands on her hips and pinned Van with an intense look. “My question is, do you like them?”
“Aye, Mother. Very much so. I am only scared that I cannot do them. The boys will be better than me. They will not be like the boys around here. They will be well trained and...well, just better.” Van threw her hands up in frustration. She felt
unable to express her concerns. “I am only a girl, no matter what you want me to be, just a girl.” She could feel the pressure of tears behind her eyes and she blinked quickly several times to ward off the onslaught of the unwanted emotions.
Her mother relaxed and pulled her into an embrace. Van wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist and clung to her. She knew her life would be changing and she felt unsure of herself.
Her mother’s words were kind and gentle. “You are who you are and no one can change that. It is not what I want you to be, it is what you are. I can tell you to pretend to be a boy, but I cannot make you enjoy it and excel at it.” She pulled away and cradled Van’s face in cold and trembling hands. “You are Van, strong and proud, and you are capable of achieving anything you set your heart to. If you tell me you do not like these things and this is not what you want with your life, we will figure something else out.”
“I am scared.” Shivers ran through Van. She hated being afraid.
“There is no shame in being scared. Fear is a good thing. Fear listened to makes you cautious. If you take that fear and overcome it you are its master, not its slave.”
***
The carriage jolted to a rough halt and Van’s head bounced against the back of the seat. Her eyes flew open and she gasped as she was drawn back into the present.
Sighing deeply, she looked at the closed door and took several deep breaths as she waited for the driver to pull it open. She heard the latch click and squinted as the bright sunlight invaded the cool, safe dimness of the coach’s interior.
“Vanessa, my dear. I am glad you decided to come.” Matthew stood with his hand extended, staring up at her. “Lord Peter did not have a problem with you coming?”
She ignored the offered hand and jumped from the carriage. Turning back, she grasped her small satchel. “Peter has little to say over what I do. I am not in the habit of asking permission before I act.”
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