“Good,” said Wallace, shoving food into his mouth. “Find out where he’s keeping my son. I’ve yet to see Josef anywhere. Everyone I ask about him says they don’t know who he is. I can’t believe that. Josef has been here several months now. Why wouldn’t anyone know him?”
“I’m not sure,” said Winter. “But I promise you I will try to find out.”
“What else did he want?” asked Nairnie in her ever-knowing way.
“That was all.” Winter reached for a piece of cheese from the platter in front of her, placing it atop the trencher.
“Winter?” Nairnie prodded her to tell more.
“You worry too much, Nairnie.” Winter picked up the cheese, taking a bite. She inspected it as she talked, rather than to have to look into Nairnie’s eyes. If she had, the truth would be known. “Don’t wait up for me tonight. It might take longer than expected to see everything Lord de Grey has to show me.”
Nairnie leaned over, squinting one eye in that threatening way she usually used when trying to intimidate people into telling her what she wanted to know. “Dinna make an addled decision tonight. If he wants to show ye anythin’ besides the castle, ye hightail it back to the room as fast as ye can. Do ye understand me?”
“Have some cheese, Nairnie.” She plucked another hunk from the platter and handed it to the old healer. This piece was cut into a long strip.
Nairnie snatched it out of her hand, still giving her the evil eye. “I ken what ye’re up to, lassie, and I dinna like it.” She shook the cheese in Winter’s face as she scolded her. “If Lord de Grey so much as lays a finger on ye, I want ye to promise me ye’ll tell him ye are a lady.”
Winter didn’t want to make that promise. She was curious about kissing and making love with a man – especially a handsome knight like Martin. But if she didn’t promise, Nairnie would be pestering her throughout the entire meal.
“All right, Nairnie, I promise.” Just as the words left her mouth, she looked up to the dais to see Martin staring at her from across the room. He had one thing on his mind, and it excited her. The more Nairnie told her to stay away from him, the more she wanted to experience a touch and kiss from the powerful border lord, Sir Martin de Grey.
Chapter 7
Martin guided Winnie up the stairs of the battlements later that evening with his hand at the small of her back. He’d seen her looking at him several times during the meal. Then again, he had been looking at her as well. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else but kissing her sweet lips. Something about this girl excited him in ways that no commoner had ever done to him before.
An exuberance for life twinkled in her bright green eyes. Her bold and daring nature told him she enjoyed a challenge. He liked that. She also knew a lot about the forge as well as Damascus steel. That impressed him. It meant she was not only pretty but also smart. He couldn’t keep his mind from wandering. Was she a hellcat in bed? He hoped so, as he hadn’t made love to a worthy woman in a long time now.
“Your castle is very nice,” she told him as he’d finished showing her not only the inside rooms but the garrison, the orchard, the mews, the kennels and the guardhouse as well.
“I am glad you like it,” he said, seeing his falcon, Andromeda, flying through dusk skies. When they got to the wall walk, he lifted his arm, and the bird landed atop it.
“Oh!” She ducked and held her hands up to her head, startled by the fluttering of the bird’s wings.
Martin chuckled. “You’ll get used to it, the longer you are here.”
“I like animals,” she said. “This bird is beautiful.” She daringly reached out to touch it although he’d warned her earlier not to do it. His hand clamped around her wrist.
“Andromeda is easily startled and doesn’t like anyone but me touching her.”
“Please,” she said. “I would like to pet the bird.”
“Then you’ll do it with me holding your hand.” He turned and talked to the bird. “Andromeda, this is Winnie. She would like to say hello.” With a slow, stroking movement, he glided her fingers over the bird’s feathers of its wing, far from its beak. To his astonishment, the bird let her do it. “I’m surprised Andromeda isn’t objecting,” he told her.
“It’s probably because she knows I am used to falcons as well as hawks. After all, I had my own hawk back in Hetherpool.”
“You did?” He let go of her hand and let her pet the bird on her own. “How does a commoner afford the care of a hawk let alone be allowed to own one? That is the bird of a noble.”
Winter pulled her hand back, biting her tongue. Once again, she’d slipped up and said something that might reveal her true identity. She had to be more careful.
“I liked to spend time in the castle mews when I wasn’t in the smithy.” She wasn’t lying, even if it was a vague representation of the truth.
“Oh, so you caught the eye of the lord, and he treated you in a special manner.”
“I suppose you could say that.” She turned and walked down the battlements, looking at the breathtaking view, and he followed. Scotland was just over the border. The rolling hills and grounds were covered in darkness, but she would have to take a walk up here to see its splendor in the daytime.
“You seem to like looking at the Scottish hills.”
“I do. It’s almost winter now, but in the spring the fields of heather are some of the most spectacular colors you will ever see.”
“I’m surprised you have even seen the hills of Scotland. After all, a blacksmith usually lives and dies in the same town.”
Even though Winter was very young when they left Scotland, one thing she remembered was the beautiful fields of heather. “I have had the opportunity to see many places in my lifetime.”
“There is one place I know you have never seen, and I plan to show it to you tonight.” His falcon flew away when he reached out to push a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His touch excited her. “We’ll go to my solar now.”
The wind whipped through her hair, but she didn’t feel the cold, even without a cloak. The heat emanating from Lord de Grey’s body warmed her to her very core. She reached back and tightened the ribbon around her long hair. This was the moment she had been waiting for, but it frightened her at the same time.
“It’s getting late,” she said. “Perhaps I should -”
Her sentence was cut off by his lips pressing up against hers. His kiss was surprisingly gentle. She had thought it would be forceful and filled with power – and lust. Instead, he treated her tenderly, pulling back and running his fingertips along her jawbone.
“It is time,” he told her, holding out his arm to escort her to his chamber.
Her head told her not to go with him, but her heart was crying out for more. She’d just had her first kiss, and it was wonderful. Always being curious and adventurous, she didn’t want it to stop here. Most girls her age were already married and had children. Winter felt she had missed out on so much and only wanted to experience intimacy with a man.
Laying her hand on his arm, she walked silently with him from the battlements, feeling like a lady being escorted. He treated her well, even though he thought she was naught but a commoner. Martin nodded to his guards along the way. When they crossed the courtyard, she saw servants and alewives watching them from the shadows. Some of the younger female servants smiled and looked downward shyly, probably wishing it was them that Lord de Grey was escorting to his bedchamber.
Inside the keep, he stopped in front of his chamber door. He reached around her, opening the door and letting her enter the room first. It was another act that made her feel special. Servants and commoners always followed behind a noble and would never enter a room first.
Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the inside of his chamber. It was a much grander room than she’d expected. His castle, in general, was not as big as any of her brothers’ castles, but his solar was spacious and decorated with many very expensive objects.
She walked throu
gh the room, running her hands along the furniture, drinking in the splendor of this elaborately decorated chamber lit by the soft glow of burning beeswax candles. Tall, stained glass windows lined the room in colors of vibrant red, blue, green and yellow. Scenes on the windows depicted knights at a tournament with the king watching from atop a tall, wooden structure as he lifted his hand in the air.
The walls were lined, completely filled with hanging tapestries that showed religious scenes of a pilgrimage to torture chambers and even a noble wedding. It was a very grand show.
“Where did you acquire all these fine things?” she asked, making her way to a wall of wooden shelves. A leather-covered wooden coffret, or small chest, caught her attention. Her fingers glided over the metal lock that was cleverly shaped like a heart.
“That is a coffret that depicts courtly love,” he told her. “I picked it up while in France.”
“You were in France?” she asked.
“Campaigning for King Edward.” He removed his weapon belt as he spoke, hanging it on a brass hook that was shaped like the long neck of a goose sticking out of the wall.
“Oh. You pillaged it,” she said, understanding what he meant.
“Aye, some of my treasures are the spoils of war,” he told her. “However, I have strong trade agreements with many countries as well. That coffret was not stolen. I paid for it.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, never having seen anything like it.
He walked over and picked up the coffret, showing it to her. “It depicts courtly love. See how the lover is offering his lady his heart? She, in return, is giving him her girdle as a token of affection.”
Winter surveyed the man on the box handing the lady the huge heart that was the metal lock with a heart-shaped hole in the middle for the key. The woman, in return, reached out and handed him her girdle, or belt, from around her waist. It was odd how something like this interested such a hardened warlord. Could there be a side to him that wasn’t so rough? One that was possibly hidden? After all, when he’d kissed her on the battlements, his action was not what she expected from him at all.
“What is the box made from?” she asked in interest. Winter had always been curious, ever since childhood. She also loved to learn.
“It’s a fine piece,” he told her. “Workmanship like this is hard to find. The wood is walnut and the fittings are made from copper alloy and iron.” He used his finger to point out the details. “The gilding on the embossed leather was done by French monks.”
“Monks?” she asked in amusement since on the outside of the box were two half-naked lovers. They reached for each other, their fingertips touching just under the heart-shaped lock.
“Look inside,” he told her, nodding, urging her to open the box.
“Is it locked?” she asked.
“Nay. The key is inside, but I’ve never used it.”
She reached out cautiously, lifting the lid, feeling like Pandora. Inside the cover was the Virgin Mary holding the baby Jesus. “Oh, I see what you mean.”
“The outside depicts courtly love, while inside we see the virgin and her baby.”
“What are these?” she asked. The box was full of jewelry and treasures of all kinds. She plucked a ring out from the pile and held it up to inspect it.
“That is a pie-dish sapphire ring,” he told her.
“A what?” She giggled since it sounded so funny.
“The setting that holds the prized and unique stone resembles a dish used in making pies. That, once belonged to a very wealthy Spanish marquis. Here is another nice one,” he said, picking up a golden brooch with embedded gemstones. “It is made of gold, and the gemstones are ruby and emerald. It was once worn by the mistress of King Edward.”
“That was Gabrielle’s?” she blurted out.
He looked at her oddly. “You seem quite familiar with one of the king’s mistresses, yet she wasn’t the one I meant.”
“You have so many treasures here,” she said, digging through the trinkets, each one being better than the last.
“They bore me,” he said with a sigh.
“They do?”
“I suppose to a commoner like you, this is like booty to a pirate.”
“Here’s the key to the heart lock,” she said excitedly, holding up a golden key. The top of it was shaped like a heart, and the part that fit into the lock was heart-shaped as well. It was exquisite. She’d never seen anything like it.
“Do you like that?” he asked.
“I do,” she said, thinking about the tale depicted on the box. “It is so romantic. It represents love, and love is stronger than any blade ever made in the forge.”
“I don’t know about that,” he said with a chuckle. “However, since you like the key - it’s yours.” He slammed the lid and put the box back on the shelf.
“You’re – giving this to me?” Winter felt as if he’d just offered her treasure.
“If you like it, take it,” he said, heading across the room. “It doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t need it.”
She fondled the key, following him over to the hearth. He picked up an iron poker and jabbed at the fire burning, making the room glow.
“If those treasures don’t interest you, then what does?” she asked, wanting to know more about him.
His head turned as he continued to poke at the fire. “You interest me.”
Her heart about stopped beating to hear him say those words. Did he really mean it? “You’ve just met me,” she said, studying the key only so she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. If she did, she’d be surrendering to him in a matter of minutes. He interested her, too. More so than any man she’d ever known.
“I may have just met you, but there’s something about you that is . . . different from most common wenches.”
She didn’t want him to start asking questions because if he did, she was going to have to tell him who she really was. After all, she’d promised Nairnie. “It’s probably because you’ve never known a lady blacksmith before.”
“Nay, I haven’t, my lady.”
Her eyes shot up to his face. He called her, my lady. Did he know who she was? He started laughing.
“I think I’ll give you the title of Lady Blacksmith. That seems to fit you well. Would you like to be a lady for a night? You can pretend you are a lady when you’re in my chamber. I would like that, and it might excite you as well.”
Nay, he didn’t know her identity. He was cocky, and she didn’t like it in the least.
“If I were pretending to be a lady, being alone with you in your bedchamber is the last place I’d be. Or do you usually bring noblewomen to your private chamber?”
That must have taken him by surprise that she spoke so freely. He abruptly stood up straight, in the process dropping the hot poker atop his booted foot. The poker fell to the floor with a loud clank, part of the handle breaking off in the process.
“Damn, that was a poker I got on a trade in the Holy Lands,” he said, reaching down to get it.
“Nay, don’t touch it!” She shot forward and blocked the poker with her body. “It’s hot and you’ll get burned.”
With her body so close to his, all she had to do was lean forward and she’d touch him.
“Thank you for your concern.” His hand cupped her chin and he tilted her head upward. “I suppose I’m not thinking clearly because all I have on my mind is you.”
Her fingers gripped the heart-shaped key. She didn’t want to let it go, and neither did she want to leave his chamber before she experienced another kiss from him.
“I – I liked the kiss,” she told him.
“There is much more where that came from.” He bent toward her and kissed her on the mouth. Winter’s eyes closed as their lips melded together, feeling as hot as the fires of the forge. Her knees became weak, and she found herself reaching out and putting her hands on his shoulders so she wouldn’t fall over.
“Winnie, I have never been drawn to a woman so quickly be
fore. I am infatuated with you and I don’t understand it.”
“I feel the same way about you,” she told him, meaning every word of it.
Then he did something that surprised her. In one motion he swooped her off her feet, lifting her in his arms. The key fell from her hand into the rushes, but it was the last thing on her mind. With his lips locked on hers again, she felt her resolve diminishing very quickly.
He carried her across the room and climbed two steps to a small dais that hosted one of the largest beds she’d ever seen in her life. There was a railing around the dais made of wood and gilded in gold. It looked as if it belonged to a church and almost seemed as if it were paying reverence to whatever happened here. When he put her down on his bed, she drank in the elaborate sight.
The bed itself was covered with a plush, down-filled spread. A sizeable, ornate canopy sheltered the area with velvet, burgundy curtains enclosing it and also covering a headboard for the bed. It was something she’d never seen before. The walls in the little alcove were painted in bright colors and even gilded with gold leaf.
However, the walls around the bed area did not depict religious scenes or the tournaments of knights like the tapestries or stained glass windows. Nay. To her utter shock, the paintings were of naked men and women all laughing and drinking and dancing and . . . making love. One very well endowed woman leaned over with two men suckling at her bosom while another man humped her from behind, his long, engorged manhood depicted to be more like a branch of a tree than part of his body it was so long. Everywhere she looked, she saw lovers kissing, caressing . . . and coupling. Mayhap it should have made her feel disgusted or embarrassed but, instead, she found herself getting randy. A part of her came to life, wanting to know how the actual act would feel. In her head, she felt like part of this wild scene.
“I see you looking at my walls,” said Martin as he stood and quickly removed his surcoat and tunic. His naked chest was broad and sturdy. He had large muscles in his upper arms.
Winter's Flame (Seasons of Fortitude Series Book 4) Page 6