by Ashley York
Brighit gasped, her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide.
“John! Desist with your teasing. She does not know you as of yet.” Peter stopped and took both her hands. “My apologies, sweet Brighit. My friend has no manners at all. He is a complete idiot and I should have warned you about him. Please forgive me. Would you have me return you to our room and bring you food there?”
Brighit narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together. She glanced between the two. “I believe this is your idea of humor. You belittling the man who you have great respect for? And in front of me?” She shook her head. “You two deserve each other. I can proceed to the hall without you.”
She strode down the hall but when she turned the corner to the main hall, she looked back and winked at them.
“Oh my, she is quite charming isn’t she?” John questioned.
“She has so much more than charm, my friend.”
John searched his friend’s face. “I can see that. You are besotted with her.”
“She is a precious gem I was blessed to find.”
“And was that the reason for the hurried marriage?”
“I refused to be parted from her. Her brother would have taken her from me. I had to act quickly.”
John looked down at his hands before facing Peter. “You do know we have orders to lay siege to the castle at York?”
Peter became serious. “Yes, my lord, I have been informed of the King’s orders. The Earl there must be an impudent dog. His name?”
“Earl de Gael.”
“The old man Emma FitzOsbern was wed to? He really is impudent. A woman half his age and he dare defy the King who gave them his blessing?”
“Ah, but William’s sudden refusal to bless Emma’s marriage to Ralph de Gael was quite the turn of events.”
“Why the change of heart?”
John shrugged. “Perhaps William did not trust him. Rumors abound regarding the discontentment of the Earls.”
“Had her father arranged the marriage before his death without the King’s approval?”
“I’m not sure if it was FitzOsbern or the King who arranged it but this resulting uprising against the King appears to confirm the King’s distrust. It also seems to be the collapse of the bridge. The King will take no more impudence. Even this far north.”
“When would you have us depart?”
“I’ve sent the army ahead with Mort. Their travel will be slow. We will join them before they make the castle.”
John stood there, his hands at his hips and a far off look in his eyes. Peter knew he was seeing the harsh winter and hardships they would have to face if they were unable to convince the Earl to open his gates. Sieges were always difficult but more difficult for those inside.
“Let us set aside these concerns for now. I would like to get to know this wife of yours. My Rowena will be overjoyed that you have taken a wife. She worried over you.”
“Lady Rowena is very special to me as well.” He smiled with relief that he would not be leaving his bride immediately. “I would like you to get to know Brighit as well.”
They walked without talking until they were right outside the Great Hall, the doors stood open. Brighit was inside and surrounded by the men of her clan. The smile she bestowed on each of them bristled Peter’s pride but John grabbed his arm before he could approach her.
“Wait. No doubt she is only happy to be with someone from home.”
Peter’s eyes widened. “You know about them, too?”
“Mort loves to talk.”
“A truer statement I’ve never heard.”
“He has mastered the ability to get information from his seemingly idle chatter.”
They paused and watched the exchange. Brighit’s coloring spoke volumes about her spirited responses.
“Do you fear she may return with them?”
Peter’s heart leapt in his chest. “No! She would never—” he turned back toward her. “I do not believe she would want to leave me.”
“Peter.” John’s tone was suddenly serious. “I do have news regarding Jeanette.”
Peter flinched inside. He hadn’t thought of her in days. Guilt swept over him and he looked away.
“It won’t be easy to hear what I have to tell you.”
Peter shoved down the mix of emotions swamping him. Guilt. Fear. Happiness. “Tell me.”
“Jeanette’s brother was not truthful with you.”
It was worse than he’d feared.
“She died more recently than he professed to you.”
Confusion added to the mix churning in the pit of his stomach. “What are you saying? I have been away since the fall. How...”
John searched his features. Reality ran over him like a stampede of horses. “It wasn’t my child she carried. She had been with another?”
“Peter, she had been with many others.”
The urge to punch his best friend in the mouth was overpowering. “Why demean her with such words?”
John grabbed on to his clenched fist. “So that you could allow yourself to grieve over the loss of your lover without the guilt of believing your murdered her. She did not carry your child. She died delivering another’s child.”
Betrayal was hard to swallow. In all the time he’d spent separated from Jeanette, he’d never considered coupling with another. Peter and John were alike in that way. They would prefer to abstain than be rutting like pigs. John, not even knowing who his sire was, convinced him to always see the act resulting in a possible birth. He could never do that to his child. Many of the soldiers thought it their right to take from the women they came across even if they were unwilling. Regardless of the outcome.
It was a difficult choice to make. Battle often left Peter with a raging need for release. Sometimes release came by his own hand but it wasn’t satisfying. It was merely to lessen the tension. When he matured, he learned better ways than physical manipulation to overcome his roaring desires. He chose to be loyal to Jeanette alone.
“There never were any promises between us.” Peter could see her face before him. “I lusted after her and she took me into her bed. She made herself available whenever I returned to court. I suppose I knew deep inside that she would find another in my absence.”
Peter rubbed his thumb along his bottom lip. Jeanette had not died because he loved her. Cursed? Perhaps he was not. Hope sparked inside and he felt like the night watchmen just as the promise of dawn spread light across the horizon. Dare he believe the darkness in him was lifting?
“Do you remember my sire?” He glanced at John. Peter’s father had been a powerful leader for King William when he was still a duke, always able to subdue the enemy.
“He was a great warrior. I served him as squire for a short time and know he was a hard man,” John said.
Peter’s derisive snort was met with a slow nod from John. “He was a cruel bastard.”
“And you are nothing like him, Peter. I never knew who my father was. Once William took me in, no one raised a hand to me.”
“I envied you for that.”
“No one raising a hand to me?”
“Not knowing who your father was. It must have been a blessing.”
John didn’t respond immediately. “A father should not beat his son although some believe differently. He also should not subject him to cruel taunts and make him afraid. I never imagined that my father would be like that. I’d have to disagree about not knowing being a blessing.”
“I know how much you wish to know where you came from. I’m sorry,” Peter said.
“William never allowed a hand to be raised against you either.”
“I’d been told so many times that I was worthless, that it was my fault my mother was dead, that I was a curse upon humanity.”
“Your sire told you those lies?”
“Repeatedly. Fear had been instilled in me. I believe I deserved every beating my father gave me. Any of those knights knew that just by looking at me. I had not the makings of a goo
d soldier. All they needed was to take one threatening step toward me and they would have me cowering.”
John put a hand on his shoulder. “I did not realize that was how it was for you. Is that why you preferred to squire for FitzOsbern?”
“That one never obeyed William. He cuffed me several times and I felt we were a good match. I knew what to expect. As I grew, he taught me to subdue my fear. To use it as a weapon. Turn it against the enemy. He turned me into the soldier I am.”
John squeezed his shoulder. “Should I have kept the truth from you about Jeanette?”
“Never.”
John pulled him into the Great Hall. “Come. Let us interrupt the eager pups circling your wife.”
Peter sneered. “With great pleasure, my lord.”
Brighit glanced toward the two knights in the doorway for the hundredth time. They were in deep conversation and it did not bode well for her. Barely a bride for an entire day and her husband appeared ready to ride off to battle.
“Do you wish to remain here?” Sean’s audacious question sent a new ripple of laughter through the men surrounding her.
Brighit gave him her most tolerant smile. “I am well married now. Enough with your foolishness.”
Sean stepped closer, looking down into her face. His own eyes twinkling with the mischief he intentionally ignited. “It would have been good with us, Brig.”
His impassioned words sent a shiver of repulsion down her spine. She could never have submitted to this man. Not like she willingly gave to Peter. She glanced toward the tall, blond Norman making his way toward her. True, she’d had a glimpse of what was hidden beneath his tunic and hose before her wedding night but the reality was far different. The touch of him, like solid rock, made her innards turn to mush. And those hands—what his hands could ignite inside her. His mouth mesmerized and enticed.
“You’re bright as a cardinal, Brighit! Are you thinking about us?”
Her mouth fell open. “Never in your wildest imagination! You are like my brother. I could never allow you to touch me—”
“Mhwah, look at her! She’s besotted by the Norman.”
Brighit realized it was her expression from the glance toward Peter and the longing her thoughts had stirred they were commenting on. She pressed her lips together.
“Enough with your silliness. I am a married woman and I’ll have no more of your teasing.”
Peter was close behind her. She could feel him. His all-encompassing heat. He laid not a single finger on her but he was requiring all her attention with his mere presence.
“Is aught amiss?” He kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Are these lads bothering you?”
Sean’s nostrils flared like a mad bull. Bracing himself as if ready for battle, he confronted Peter. “Hurt our Brighit and I’ll come back and drive a dagger straight through your heart.”
Peter’s relaxed stance never wavered, even as he broke into a huge smile. A smile that seemed to say he had won and he knew it. He allowed the threat to pass. The tension Sean’s earlier words had coiled in her stomach lessened. There was no way to let Sean down easy. It was true. She was totally besotted by her handsome Norman.
“So will you be going back to Ireland now?” she said.
“I believe we will. Do you think you will ever return?” Sean asked.
Brighit glanced at Peter. It would be his decision to make now. Where she would go and where she would live.
Peter smiled back at her. “Perhaps. We will have to discuss these things.”
“Truly?” she asked.
Peter didn’t turn the idea down out of hand as she’d expected him to.
Impulsively, she reached up to offer him a passionate kiss then said, “I do love you so.”
She quickly turned away so he couldn’t see the blush of her cheeks. Tadhg, entering the hall, gave her the perfect reason to retreat from her unwise revelation about her feelings. She couldn’t stop herself. He was so kind to her. So patient. So loving. Never could she have imagined being married to someone like him.
“Sister. You look... refreshed.” Tadhg kissed her lightly on the cheek, pausing beside her ear, “See what happens when you keep your deepest desires close?”
“I do,” she said in a whisper then returned his kiss.
“Ah, Sir Peter.” Tadhg took the other man’s hand. “My sister seems to have survived an entire night with you.”
Brighit’s cheeks heated. She turned away. Perhaps they would refrain from any more comments if they did not notice her embarrassment.
“She’s besotted with him. Although I see no reason for that to be the case.” Sean’s attempt at humor ended in a disgruntled tone. He glanced at Peter. “I will see that the horses are properly cared for.”
Tadhg watched him until he left the hall then turned back to Brighit. “Mayhap he did pine after you.”
“That’s ridiculous. He is like one of my brothers.”
“There was that time I caught you in the field with him and ner a stitch of clothing on either of you.”
Her eyes widened. When she glanced at Peter’s shocked expression, she wanted to rip her brother’s tongue out. “We were four!”
Peter laughed.
“I didn’t say how old you were.”
“You implied—oh stop.” She rolled her eyes.
Peter wrapped his strong arms about her shoulders and pulled her back against him. He kissed her lightly on the top of the head. “You were a spirited one even then.”
“Well, when he mentioned—oh never mind.”
“Enough, Tadhg. I will not have even you embarrassing my sweet wife.”
A lump grew in her throat, making it hard to swallow. Peter spoke of her with such endearments. She held his arm where it crossed just above her breasts. She felt protected and loved... but she knew he did not feel that way. He’d declared he wanted none of that.
He’d not even questioned her after her impulsive declaration of love after they were wed. Perhaps dismissing it as an impulsive response, without foundation. Or not feeling it was necessary to respond when he would be leaving. Now that she’d repeated the declaration, she wasn’t sure if he would broach the subject with her.
Although he had seemed quite pleased with her in bed and had said as much. She felt the same. They were indeed well suited. Even now the solid wall of his body against her back, made her knees weak. As if sensing that, he pulled her tighter still. Then brought his lips to her ear.
“Shall we see to that voracious appetite of yours now?”
She gasped.
“Not that appetite.”
Turning to face him, she saw the sly smile. He kissed her with more passion this time. “I promise to see to that after we have sustenance.”
Although Peter’s words were for her ears only, Tadhg’s unwavering smile caused her already heated face to grow even hotter.
“Well, as long as someone will still be embarrassing her,” Tadhg said.
He turned toward the table of food, leaving Peter and Brighit alone.
“Your emotions are easy to see,” Peter said. He pulled her in for another kiss. “Is it because I am so enthralled by this luscious body?”
“I verily hope so, my lord.”
He offered his arm and they followed Tadhg to the food.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Peter had followed through with his promise of returning her to bed after they broke their fast. It had been the sweetest coupling. Tears had sprung to her eyes as he held her close. She knew he was saying goodbye.
“I’m sorry to be leaving you so soon.” Peter rubbed his lips against the top of her head where she rested against his chest. “I will dream of you being in my arms every night.”
Brighit brushed the tear off her cheek before it fell to his bare chest. “You are a soldier, my lord. Your King has sent orders. You need to obey.”
He tipped his head to look into her face. “So you believe telling me all the things I know will somehow ease my longing to re
main here with you?”
“No.” She forced down the lump in her throat. She refused to have him leave with her in tears. “Where has John gone?”
“He returned to the inn to send word to his troops. They will advance to the castle in preparation for the siege.”
“A siege?”
“We will ask to enter the castle. If they do not open their gates to us, we will cut off anyone and everything from entering or leaving. We will bombard their walls with our trebuchets until we either break through their walls or they open their gates.”
Her sadness turned to fear. He could certainly die if battle ensued. She should have realized that. She could lose him just when she found him.
“What will you do when I leave?”
“I am yours now. What would you have me do?”
He kept his eyes on her. “I do not consider you a possession with no thoughts of your own. What is it you would like to do?”
The tears came anyway. He sat up and gathered her more fully against him. “No. No tears. You will break my will in two. Shhh.”
He stroked her hair.
“I will be alone. I know not what I should even want to do.”
His body tensed. His hand ceased its movement. “Would you prefer to return with your brother and his men?”
“No! I do not wish to leave... here.”
His brown eyes searched her face. He pushed a wayward lock of hair from her face. His smile reached his eyes. “I’m happy to hear you say that.”
“Who are these people that will not open their gates to you? Are they not your King’s men?”
He tipped his head, running his thumb along her lip. He kissed her. “The King believed the man inside was loyal. By not opening his gates, he will be showing his defiance of the King’s orders.”
Her whole body wished for the man to just open his gates so that Peter could come back to her. “Is there any hope that the man will open his gates to you?”
“There seems to be no hope at all.”