“This is too much,” she told him, feeling overwhelmed.
“It certainly is too much,” complained Sir Oxley. “This silly celebration has dipped into our coffers so far that we’ll all go hungry come winter.”
“Oh, no. Is that true, Lord Ravenscar?” she asked, not wanting anyone to go hungry because of her.
“Nay, my lady,” replied Benedict putting a large slab of venison on his plate as well. “Oxley speaks of that which he does not know.”
“What do you mean by that?” Oxley slammed down his tankard. His eyes shot over to Benedict. “You have Ravenscar’s money, don’t you? Tell me where you found it.”
“Money? What money?” asked Autumn.
“Calm down,” growled Benedict, speaking to Oxley. “No one knows where Ravenscar hid his money and I’ll not have you accusing me of stealing it next.”
“Why not?” snapped Oxley. “After all, you already stole my position and now Ravenscar’s title, his castle, and holdings too.”
“You have your title back,” Benedict reminded him. “It wasn’t my fault that Ravenscar took it from you in the first place.” Autumn’s head turned back and forth, being in the middle of this heated conversation.
“You say Ravenscar named you as his heir, but you were the only one in the room to hear it when he died,” snapped the guard. “We don’t even know how the man died – or what he died from.”
“I told you, he died from the plague,” said Benedict, taking a bite of bread, not even looking at Oxley now.
“If he had the plague, you’d be dead now, too,” spat Oxley. “Besides, the healer says there is no plague in the castle nor was there ever.” Oxley turned to look at Autumn. “Isn’t that right, Healer?”
Suddenly, Autumn was no longer enjoying herself. She didn’t like the way the men were squabbling. The last thing she wanted was to be put in such a position. She didn’t want to side with Oxley against Benedict after all he’d done for her to make her birthday special. But part of her had her concerns as well as to how the last Ravenscar died. Benedict’s bloody dagger found under the man’s bed was not at all making her feel comfortable. Still, she was sure there must be a good explanation.
“I’ll not have you ruining Lady Autumn’s birthday celebration,” said Benedict, standing up. His hounds surrounded him, thinking he was going to feed them. The dogs pushed up against Autumn. To her horror, his two wolfhounds bounded into the great hall and ran over and pushed their faces up close to her. She could feel their hot breath upon her. Feeling her body tremble in fear, she closed her eyes and tried to breathe.
“You don’t need to threaten me because I don’t want to be part of this ridiculous celebration for a prisoner that is also one of your whores.” Oxley slammed his fist on the table and stood up.
Autumn’s eyes popped open at that comment. Having also heard his words, the entire hall became deadly silent.
“Oxley, you’ll apologize at once to Lady Autumn for that crude remark,” commanded Benedict. “Then you are banned to the battlements for a fortnight. You will sleep and eat there, and if I see you anywhere near Lady Autumn or the bedchambers or the great hall before your term is finished, I’ll personally have you thrown into the dungeon. Do you understand?” Benedict’s eyes flashed in anger like Autumn had never seen before. His jaw clenched tightly, causing a vein to throb in his neck. His hand wavered over the hilt of his sword. She wasn’t at all sure a physical fight wasn’t about to break out.
Thankfully, Sir Oxley backed down. “I apologize, my lady,” he said with a bow. “I do hope you can forgive me for my outburst.”
“Yes. Of course,” she said, not looking at the man, but rather looking at the rest of the inhabitants in the great hall who were all staring at her.
“Now, get out of here,” said Benedict under his breath, sending Sir Oxley storming out the door.
Autumn felt terrible and also very uncomfortable. Everyone was staring at her and Benedict’s wolfhounds had yet to walk away.
“Please, everyone, continue with the meal,” Benedict commanded. “Jongleurs, it is time for your entertainment now.”
Autumn was happy for the distraction of the jongleurs that made everyone else seem to forget a fight had almost transpired at the dais. She still sat with her spine stiff, a wolfhound on each side of her, breathing in her face.
“I’m sorry about that,” said Benedict, turning to realize she was surrounded by dogs. “Sampson, Goliath, get out of here! Go on.” He shooed the dogs away. “Nelek, didn’t I tell you to keep these hounds in the kennel tonight?”
“So sorry, my lord. They must have sneaked out.” Nelek pulled the dogs away and, finally, Autumn was able to relax slightly.
“Have some wine, my lady. It’ll help calm your nerves.” Benedict called for the wine bearer to bring more drink, even though she still had a full goblet.
“I have quite enough,” she said, taking a sip and coughing slightly. It was a strong wine – stronger than she’d ever tasted before.
“That is heather wine,” Benedict told her. “It is from Scotland. Is it not to your liking? If not, I also have ale or mead you can try instead.”
“Oh, nay. I don’t want to be a bother. I’ll just drink this.” She took another sip and felt it warm her insides on the way down.
“Nonsense. Bring her some of every type of drink we have,” he said, calling over the wine bearer as well as the butler. Before she knew it, there were a half-dozen drinks lined up in front of her in goblets, cups and even tankards. Now, she felt as if she had to try them all or risk being rude.
The more Autumn ate and drank, the more relaxed she became. She had the feeling she’d become tipsy, although she’d never experienced this condition before.
Nairnie came by the table with the dessert that consisted of an elaborate display of sweetmeats and fresh fruit soaked in whisky. A servant took a torch off the wall and lit the dessert on fire. Flames shot up in an impressive display of orange and red. Autumn watched with wide eyes and giggled as the servant put out the fire by covering the dessert with a domed metal lid.
“You like that?” asked Benedict, signaling for the cupbearer to fill her goblet again.
“I do. Very much so,” she said, taking a sip and dribbling on her chin. For some reason that made her giggle. Not able to find a hand cloth, she wiped her mouth with the tablecloth instead.
“Lady Autumn!” Nairnie leaned over the table and sniffed the air. This only reminded Autumn of Benedict’s dogs and made her giggle even more. “Ye are soused.”
“I am not,” she protested. “Mayhap a little relaxed, but I assure you I am far from being well in my cups.”
“This is all yer fault, Benedict,” spat Nairnie.
Benedict looked over the rim of his cup and then lowered it slowly, licking his lips. Autumn stared at his mouth, wanting to taste it once again.
“I am sure I don’t know what you mean, Nairnie. I have gone to extremes to make Lady Autumn’s birthday special, but I would hardly use the word fault.”
“Ye ken what I mean, laddie. Now behave yerself tonight. Both of ye,” she added, glaring at Autumn before walking away.
Autumn held back until Nairnie left the table and then burst out laughing. Benedict smiled and started laughing as well.
“You are even more beautiful when you laugh,” he told her. “Your smile lights up the entire room.”
“Do you think so?” She felt the rush of heat to her face and looked down to play with the crumbs on the table.
“Dance with me, Lady Autumn,” he said, causing her eyes to snap up and meet his perusal.
“Dance?”
Benedict raised a hand in the air. Before she knew it, the servants were scurrying around removing the trestle tables and making room in the great hall for the dance. “Musicians, play a tune that’s befitting for a birthday celebration for the beautiful Lady Autumn,” he called out. Standing up, he helped Autumn from her chair. She felt dizzy when she stood, so sh
e reached out and grabbed Benedict’s arm to keep from falling.
“I’m not sure dancing is a good idea right now,” she said. Was the room moving?
“Let’s dance,” he told her, flashing a smile that made him look even more handsome if it were at all possible. He escorted her down from the dais and then bowed to her as the music started. His long, dark hair hung well past his shoulders, covering his forest green tunic embroidered with bright gold trim. He wore tight, black hose and no breeches since it was custom for noblemen to wear hose and long tunics that came just above their knees. He filled out his hose nicely and she couldn’t keep her eyes from wandering downward.
Then it was her turn to curtsey. She felt like a princess in this gown. A pair of soft flower-embroidered silk slippers that Iona had found in the trunk graced her feet. He extended his arm to her and, willingly, she slipped her hand into his.
She’d learned to dance while living at Hetherpool, but he danced as if he’d been doing it his entire life. Never had she seen a man so light on his feet with the moves of a sleek wildcat on the prowl. Then he put one hand around her waist as he led her around the room.
The heat of his touch warmed her soul. When she glanced up at him, he was looking down, and their faces were so close they almost touched. His gaze flashed over to her lips next. The overwhelming urge to kiss him almost had her reaching forward for a kiss in front of everyone in the great hall. She caught her silly notion and stopped it before it started. Suddenly, she felt as if she didn’t have her wits about her to make wise decisions anymore.
The dance ended and she curtseyed. When Benedict started to reach for her arm to continue, she shook her head and backed away, stepping on the paw of one of his dogs in the process. The dog yelped and ran up to Benedict who reached down and ran his hand over the hound’s head.
“It’s all right, Jack, it was an accident,” he said, talking to his pet as if it were a child. That made her think of how kind he’d been to the orphans. She noticed during the dance that little Rab now had a pair of shoes. Plus, he said he’d send pallets to her room for all of them to use. No matter how harsh his exterior was, she saw a gentler, kinder, caring side of him that had been rising to the surface lately.
“I think I’ve had enough celebrating and will go back to my chamber now,” she said, feeling the flush of heat fill her cheeks. “I am becoming sleepy.”
“Allow me to escort you, my lady,” he said, taking her by the arm and leading her to the door. On their way to her chamber, they passed by Ravenscar’s solar and the door was open. A lone candle in a tall, iron holder, as well as the fire in the hearth, caused flickering sensations to jump against the walls. She gasped when she saw the transformation. The last she’d seen this room, everything was being hauled away and burned.
“My, that looks nice,” she said, peeking into the room as they passed by. He stopped and turned back and opened the door wider, extending his arm, inviting her inside.
“Come. See the changes. I’ve had everything scrubbed down and the walls painted with whitewash. I’ve brought in new tapestries and had my bed and things moved here from my solar. There are even fresh rushes on the floor.”
She took a step inside and then stopped. “Your solar?” she asked.
“Aye. This is my room now since I am lord of the castle. It is the largest room at Ravenscar.”
The soft thud of the door closing behind them had her spinning around to see Benedict leaning his back against the wood with his arms crossed.
“I – I don’t think I should be in here alone with you. It’s not proper.”
“Nonsense,” he said, turning around and bolting the door. Then he strolled across the room toward her. “There are no dogs in here, so there is naught to fear.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“Me?” He raised his brows and put his palms against his chest. “I’m not afraid of dogs, my lady.”
“That’s not what I mean.” He was smiling and didn’t look at all threatening. His straight white teeth glistened in the firelight. She found his sense of humor amusing and refreshing. She smiled too. The wine taking its toll on her made her head spin. She reached out for him in order not to fall.
His arms were around her waist and his lips pressed up against hers before she knew what happened. Her mind kept reverberating with Nairnie’s warning about Benedict, telling her to keep away. But she also kept thinking about Benedict’s promise that he would fan her fires of desire and please her without taking her virginity. As much as she wanted to run, part of her was curious, making her want to stay.
“I suggest you sit down before you fall, my lady.” He led her over to the chair.
She wanted to be close to him, but the chair was meant for one person only. “I think the bed looks more comfortable,” she said, plopping down upon it, looking back up to see the pleased expression on his face.
“Aye, I agree,” he said with a smile. “The bed is more comfortable.” He removed his weapon belt and then his shoes. Then he surprised her when he walked over and jumped up and landed on his back on the bed with his hands behind his head.
She burst out laughing. His weight on the bed made her fall toward him and she ended up lying against his chest the way she’d been in the field of daisies.
“This is more comfortable, too, don’t you agree?” he asked.
With her chest pressed up against his, he took her gently by the shoulders and pulled her down against his body. She didn’t fight him. Instead, she laid her head on his chest, hearing the rapid beating of a heart that she wasn’t sure was hers or his. He rubbed her back in small circles until her stiff body relaxed. Then he pulled her up higher as he scooted down on the bed.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Just trying to get closer so I can taste you again.” He kissed her, letting his hands rest on her bottom end. She felt his fingers close around her buttocks and squeeze slightly. When he did, she felt him growing beneath his hose.
She flipped over on her back, trying to make space between them. He must have taken that as an invitation since he then straddled his body atop hers.
“Please, don’t rape me,” she blurted out, causing his spine to stiffen. “I am not a whore.”
Benedict had almost gotten carried away, but when he heard the innocent Autumn begging him not to take her and telling him she wasn’t a whore, Oxley’s accusations rang in his ears. He quickly rolled off of her onto his back, lying on the bed next to her. Rubbing his hands over his face, he mumbled into them. “I’m sorry, Autumn. I got carried away. I never meant to make you feel like a whore.”
He pushed up to a sitting position and was about to get off the bed when her hand reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him. He looked back over his shoulder in confusion.
“I liked – what you were doing,” she told him. “It just frightened me since I’ve never had a man before.”
“What are you saying?” He watched as her bright green eyes stared at him intensely. She looked so serious again, her body becoming tense.
“I – I guess I’m saying I don’t want you to leave. I’m a woman now, like you said. I would like to know what it feels like to be a full-fledged woman.”
“You are also a lady and that is the way I’ll leave you.” He tried once more to get off the bed but, this time, she sat up and her words stopped him.
“Show me,” she said.
“What?” The wench was confusing him.
“You said you would show me how to fan my flames of desire.”
“I told you that in a moment of passion. My mistake. Now, I think I’d better take you to your room.”
“You said there is a way to let me feel pleasure but still remain a virgin – for when I someday get married.”
“Yes,” he said, finding this side of Autumn alluring. She was a girl who wasn’t afraid to try new things and very curious as well. “There are many ways to find pleasure and still maintain your state of virginity.”
“Then do them to me.”
He shook his head and chuckled, not sure he was hearing her correctly. “My lady, you have had too much wine and it is naught but the drink talking.”
“I may have had too much wine, but I still have my common sense about me. I know what I’m saying and know what I want.”
“I – I’m not sure,” he said, wanting to show her pleasure as she’d never experienced in her life. But at the same time, he didn’t want to take advantage of her in a tipsy state. “I think we should wait for a time when you have not had so much to drink. Then if you still want to experience new sensations - I would be more than obliged to partake of this intriguing request.”
He got up off the bed.
“It’s my birthday,” she said. “You told me today was special.”
“It is.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“Then make it special for me. Please, Benedict. I know what I’m asking and I assure you neither of us will regret this in the morning.”
Not regret it? Hell, he already did. He regretted more than anything promising he could bring her pleasure in the first place without actually making love to her. Now, that was all he had on his mind. It was going to be a long night.
“All right,” he finally agreed, planning on kissing her a few times and sending her on her way. “Lie back down and we’ll start our little lesson.”
Autumn waited anxiously, anticipating what was to come next. She’d already enjoyed his kisses and also felt his tongue in her mouth. She had no idea what else he could do without actually coupling with her.
“We’ll start with the kiss,” he told her. Lying on her back, she lifted her chin, pursed her lips, and waited. She saw him just looking at her and shaking his head, but he didn’t kiss her.
Autumn's Touch (Seasons of Fortitude Series Book 3) Page 15