by Lee Scott
Tears blinded her from further escape. Silently they slid down her cheeks as she tried to hide her embarrassment. She loved him desperately but he had spurned her. Now his slightest touch was melting her will to leave him and her crumbling resolve was public record.
“Gillian, please do not go. I was out of my mind with worry about you. I thought you had been captured,” Luke said. Concern etched his features.
“I was. The King’s knights came upon us and insisted that we accompany them. For what purpose, I have yet to learn. I just want to go on my way. As soon as I have the King’s leave, I will travel to the abbey to live out my days,” Gillian said. Her voice continued to crack with emotion.
“Nay! You must not!” Luke barked. “You shall stay under my protection.”
“Certainly, you can see that is impossible. I must be rid of the turmoil I bury inside.” Gillian’s voice whispered for Luke’s ears only. “The abbey may be the only place I will be able to find peace.”
“This is not finished,” Luke said. His companion knight and escort had placed a meaty hand on his shoulder and was pulling him gently away from the woman. In a matter of moments Luke was pulled back through the crowd.
Gillian watched the two stride away, bodies blending into the crowd with the exception of their heads towering over the courtiers, as they made progress toward the king’s guarded inner chamber door. Luke glanced back once again. His eager search back toward her proved fruitless. She had sidestepped behind another slender woman standing nearby. She was lost in the crush of people desiring a closer look.
But Gillian had been summoned to court and had no permission to leave. She must await the pleasure of the king. Whatever indignities she must suffer, she hoped she could endure quietly without the whole of England sharing in. At the moment just assuming anonymity in the crowd would do.
Not long after, the doors swung wide and out strode Luke and the knight, passing another petitioner entering. Luke’s eyes renewed their search of the gathering. Lines of concern etched his brow and his mouth was turned down in a grim line. He spoke quietly to his companion and the other man replied. The first smile he cracked in days shown with profound relief.
Searching the room for Gillian was no easy matter. No doubt she was still in the room, and knowing Gillian as he did, he moved back to the front. If avoidance wasn’t an option, he was aware she would take the straightforward approach. It didn’t take him long to find her resting on a bench near the front corner of the room. Her eyes were closed as she leaned heavily against the wall. Without fanfare, Luke knelt in front of his love and gently stroked the hands that were neatly folded in her lap.
Luke whispered silkily into Gillian’s ear. He wished for more contact. He longed for a kiss or an embrace or even a gentle caress, but half of Christendom was watching his every move like a hawk.
“Gillian, my love,” Luke said tenderly. His eyes flicked nervously around at a dozen set of eyes staring at him. Nervous beads of sweat popped out on his forehead. Never had he lost his nerve like he had at this very moment. “If we are allowed, would you marry me?”
Rather sadly, Gillian said, “Aye, you silly warrior, you know I would. I long to be near you. If I could climb inside your skin I fear even that would fail to be close enough. I have made no secret of my feelings for you.”
“True enough,” Luke responded with a grin. Even now she was spunky. “But there is the matter of your marriage to my father. The only way the marriage may be annulled is to have your maiden’s status proved to the satisfaction of the king.”
Luke was not sure what reaction he anticipated from his ladylove. How strong her love might prove to be was still to be demonstrated. As much as he wanted her to affirm her love for him he wondered what price it would exact. Clasping her small hands in his, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Half praying, Luke closed his eyes and waited for some sign of acceptance or rejection.
“There are no assurances, my lord,” Gillian said in muted tones. “Accidents have been known to happen…” She stopped. “When is this thing to take place?” Her voice warbled slightly.
“Now,” Luke said softly.
Placing one foot in front of the other, Gillian began walking. “Where?”
“In the King’s chambers.”
Gillian shuddered. She contemplated the humiliation she was now suffering. Holding her hand on his offered arm was impossible for the uncontrollable shaking. Instead, the steadying grip of his free hand held hers snug and secure.
“What have you to say, Sir Luke?” she asked.
“Naught,” he responded. For what could he say to her? This was her decision alone.
“Very well,” was all she said.
They walked to the doors leading to the King’s inner chambers. At that point, Luke’s way was barred. Only Gillian was allowed forward. Helplessness was a foreign feeling, but one he was now learning much too well. Not knowing what to expect, he had anticipated staying with her until the end. Of course, that might have added to her mortification.
Remaining outside was intolerable. As soon as Gillian was led through and the doors shut in front of him, Luke found himself feeling very alone.
After a few moments, Luke’s attention was directed at a commotion at the far end of the building. He paid little attention to it until he heard his name called.
“Luke, someone called,” what do I have to do to get your attention, take you down and slap you?”
Luke immediately recognized the voice. He smiled as he turned and faced the man. It widened even more when he saw his companions.
A few minutes later Gillian was led from the chambers. Her face was pale with unshed tears still glistening in her exquisite hazel eyes. In a few purposeful long strides, Luke was at her side. He wrapped a supporting arm around her waist. Every fiber in her body trembled and one step nearly faltered.
“I can not be put off,” Luke said. “What was the decree?” You must tell me.”
“The decree is yet to be decided,” she said. “But since you must know, my maidenhood is still in tact.”
But Luke could still see the tears forming in Gillian’s eyes. Concerned, he asked, “But you do not appear satisfied. Mayhap you have doubts about our marriage. Please speak, I must be told.”
Luke was right, and Gillian’s pale expression showed it. “Please understand. My hesitation was never a concern for our love for each other but that of you family. Will they ever be able to forgive me for what I have done to them? I fear they will never accept me because of my being the cause of their father’s death.”
“Mayhap you should ask them,” came a reply. But it was not from Luke. It was from someone standing behind Gillian.
As she turned, Gillian recognized Alyssa, and Edward. It was Edward who had spoken. He bowed low and raised his hand for Gillian to grasp. Out of habit, she raised hers in response. Grasping her hand, Edward gently kissed it but instead of letting go, he placed his other on top. Pulling himself closer, he said very softly, “We love you Gillian, with all our hearts. I want you to never doubt that love for as long as you live.”
As he let go, his younger brother advanced and also pledged his love. But it was Alyssa that proved the most caring. She barely waited for her brother to let go of Gillian’s hand when she stepped forward and gave Gillian a deep hug.
It was not customary for such affection to be displayed in court and Gillian was delighted. But her response was cut short when a young man approached.
“Your presence is requested within,” the dispassionate voice said. The companion knight had returned and was motioning for them to walk to the front. Gillian and Luke held each other tight as they walked toward the door, but Gillian could not help looking back at her friends as they waved her on.
The doors swung wide again and the two disappeared into the king’s inner chamber.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nearly one week had passed since Gillian and Luke had appeared at court. Gillian still picked at her foo
d, but at least the pounds weren’t still dropping off. Although cheerful in countenance, the ordeal had put her off her routines for several days.
Luke kept a close watch over her, worried about her state of mind. Dealing with the public and personal humiliation had been a steady struggle. However, maintaining an even temperament aided her to heal quickly.
Although possessing an emotional disposition of iron, Gillian seemed fragile in the way she now cloaked her feelings. Her very personality had closed off, shielding Luke and everyone else from the pain she bore.
As the group traveled along the road, Gillian and Luke rode in the center of the guards. Taking no chances with her safety, Luke had no intention of any harm befalling his love. In truth he could not bear the thought of her falling into the hands of an enemy again. He would rather die in her defense.
The first day on the road, Gillian rode silently. Luke rode Storm beside Buttercup allowing a time for reflection. Upon reaching the first campsite, Luke slid from his saddle, and held out his arms to aid Gillian from her mare. She slid along his body and clung to him. Her head rested upon his armored chest and she refused to let him free. The simple act of surrender to his protection sent a pulse of pure pleasure coursing through his body. His embrace was tighter than perhaps it should have been, but he was reluctant to let her free. And Gillian was determined to remain enclosed within his grasp.
The sweet fragrance of her hair drifted up to him as he held her to him. As the men busied themselves with setting up the camp for the night, Luke and Gillian held each other tight. Gillian sighed. That caused Luke to study her face for a time.
“I will prevail over this, Luke,” she whispered.
“Gill, I wish I could erase the events of the past fortnight,” he soothed.
“I will have you know that I would have submitted over and over again for the mere chance of spending my life with you, my love,” Gillian confessed. Luke swept a light kiss upon her auburn hair.
Reluctantly the two disengaged from one another, but Luke kept Gillian in view. He refused to let her stray from his watchful eye. She was vulnerable and there was still no certainty that she was totally safe. Brigands looking for some quick compensation still might be looking to abduct the lady.
A fire burned bright in the center of camp and Gillian’s pallet was placed nearby. After eating and attending to personal needs, she settled down to sleep, but only after Luke was ensconced close by. Throughout the night Luke slept at her side. By morning Gillian had embraced him and had nestled snug against his warm body. And when Luke stirred to help with tearing apart the camp, Gillian moaned and tugged at him to remain. Luke smiled and kissed her head and lingered by her side for as long as possible.
The closeness was so like what they had shared before. He didn’t want to ever let it go. If in his power to do so, he would make every day happy for Gillian. For now it was important to give one simple pleasure after another. Riding together seemed to restore her
That morning the horse pawed impatiently when her mistress was in view, waiting for Gillian to claim her for the day. The lady found special tidbits for the horse to enjoy along the way, and took special time grooming the beautiful palfrey. She was rewarded with the animal’s soft whinnies and gentle nudges greeting her as she prepared to mount. And sitting atop Buttercup brightened Gillian’s spirits.
As the day progressed, Gillian relaxed. The trip was a carefree time. No regrets or shame marred her outlook. Her future was uncertain, but at least she was in the company of the man she loved, and for now it was more than enough.
Gillian begged to take a stroll through the woods. Unwilling to deny her this simple request, Luke agreed. Guards were posted discreetly around an imaginary perimeter. Luke wished for privacy, not trouble. If an intruder were to happen along, his men would intercept long before they could happen upon his favorite forest nymph.
Straining to listen for danger, Luke’s head turned one way and another to listen for trouble. Drawn to Gill’s beauty like a moth to flame, he furtively watched her while looking through the foliage, hunting for the brigands he hoped would not materialize. Her auburn hair and hazel eyes sparkled in the dappled forest light.
Finding a grassy bank overlooking a stream, Gillian sat then waited for Luke to follow her lead. Reluctant to let his guard down, he searched the underbrush for any signs of life. Satisfied they were truly alone; he laid his sword in the grass and settled close to Gillian.
Without warning her arms ensnared her protector and pulled his mouth snug against hers. A satisfied moan strengthened to a lusty demanding groan as Gill’s fingers tangled into the curly strands at Luke’s nape. Any willpower Gill possessed coursed away, like the water in the stream at her feet.
Inwardly, Luke smiled. If he had ordered a perfect scenario, this would be it. He was alone with the lady he loved. That was all he needed to know. His hands pulled her tight against his chest then he slanted a hungry kiss over her sweet warm mouth. The possessive grown of satisfaction only a man burning with lust could produce echoed in his own ears. At that moment, he sounded more animal than man and his instinct to mate his lips with hers insisted on satisfaction.
Gillian settled into the grass, smoothing her skirt over her legs. As soon as Luke had settled next to her on the riverbank, he turned and embraced her with a fierceness that drove a squeak from deep inside. After starting the primitive mating ritual, Gill relaxed and let Luke dominate. Only when a tentative kiss or caress slowed the pace did Gill tease with a flick of her tongue or a brush of her hand. Unwilling to part from her love, she stroked and flirted until the man in her arms surrendered to a new wave of passion. Strengthened by her heady power over this man, Gillian released her prey for another volley of tongue play.
Never had she possessed such control, and now that she had it she wished never to relinquish it. Luke had the strength to physically dominate, but he was willing to surrender any power to Gillian if it meant he could taste of her charms. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her snug against him. The widow’s body melted in wonderful new ways to press her softness against his warrior’s chest of steely muscle.
Probing his tongue against her pliant lips was rewarded with a chance to delve into the honeyed warmth of her mouth. A moan of his driving need filled her mouth as the probing tongue tasted, and sampled her sweet surrender.
“Please, Luke,” Gillian begged, “Touch me.” Her hand cupped over his fingers and guided his hand to the soft mound of her breast. Every alarm sounded in her head, but she was powerless to fight off the pleasure numbing her brain.
Breaking free at last, Luke scrambled away slightly, unsure his resolve would hold long enough to save her from the shame of claiming her here in the grass. His manhood, nearly in pain from lust, strained against his chauses. The most difficult deed he would need to perform was to pull away from sweet Gillian’s embrace. But pull away he must. It would not do to behave like some randy lad and soil his lady’s good name.
Gillian’s arms reached for her love, but came up empty. “Nay, my lady,” Luke whispered. “I want better for you than a roll in the weeds.”
“I would have you any way I might, good sir.” Gillian cried.
Her face was a scarlet hue matching that of Luke’s. Every breath came short and shallow from unfulfilled cravings. The defiant tilt of her chin and the ramrod straight spine stung Luke’s heart. In spite of the twinge of guilt squeezing his chest, he was glad that at last his love was showing some measure of the spunk she had valiantly displayed since their first encounter. A wry smile twisted on his lips.
As she bounded up and marched away, Luke reached out in surprise from her rear. His fingers dug in to the forward moving soft flesh of her arms, resisting his efforts to halt her progress. His lips brushed against her ear with the lightness of butterfly wings.
“Don’t go,” the knight entreated. “Stay here with me for a while longer. I long to sit and watch the sunlight play with the fire in your hair. You are t
he loveliest woman I have ever known. And you are the dearest as well. I think you would not want me to sully your good name. It would not be honorable for me to do so even though it is nigh on impossible to keep my hands off of you.”
Finally a small smile crept across Gill’s face for she knew what he spoke to be the truth. She stood still and allowed his hands to explore a slow path over her hips and to her flat tiny waist. Her smaller hands held his larger ones against her or guided them in an ever-tightening embrace. Just having him pressed against her sent ripples of pleasure whipping along every nerve.
With a sudden turn, a hasty but chaste kiss, and a flurry of silly giggles, Gill skipped along the forest path toward the encampment. One long furtive glance over her right shoulder teased Luke and brought the warrior to heel at her side. Indeed the man was so smitten he would have gladly accomplished any foolish deed just to have the pleasure of his love’s companionship. The knight craved to touch the woman of his desires, but proximity proved not be as satisfying as he had hoped.
In fact, both Gillian and Luke spent sleepless nights. Aroused beyond endurance the two lay snuggled together, not moving for fear it would alert the other to their own unsettled state. It was nearly dawn before the pair slipped at last into the deep restful sleep they both so desperately needed.
For the first time that Luke could remember, he didn’t wake up on his own. The knights moving about their morning chores clanked an early morning greeting. Gillian rolled over pushing her face into his steel hard muscles. Her quick temper flared wildly and she cursed the circumstances that would rudely interrupt her dreams of Luke’s strong hands. Those hands were swatted away angrily while Gillian attempted to roll over and resume her slumber. It was not to be. Luke’s full-bodied laughter broke the silence. Watching her angry protest put a smile on his face when all else would no doubt add to his own ire.