“Aye, nice and long. Just how I like it.” He inspected the sword. “It has a fine tang also. Be sure to make the handgrip balanced with most the weight at the back for better control.”
“Aye, milord,” answered Wallace.
Winter’s thoughts returned to last night and Martin’s long sword she’d experienced personally. Heat engulfed her. She became so hot she felt as if she were going to combust.
“Wallace, go ahead and work. Don’t let me stop you,” he said. Winter’s eyes met the blacksmith’s and she shook her head slightly.
“What is that you have there, Rock?” She tried to change the conversation.
“This is Lord de Grey’s poker,” Rock told her, holding up the iron rod. She started to laugh but covered it up by clearing her throat as Rock continued. “It seems he used it too vigorously last night and now it needs to be repaired.”
Once again, her mind flashed to the pictures of the lovers painted on his bedchamber walls. Then she thought of the way he’d used his poker with her last night. Excitement coursed through her just thinking about the way she cried out when she climaxed. This wasn’t good. She had to get this off her mind or she was going to take him up on his invitation to join him again tonight. Reaching out, she took the poker from Rock and handed it to Wallace.
“My father will fix it for you, Lord de Grey. Excuse me. I would like to get some air.” Stepping around Martin and Rock, she ran out of the smithy into the courtyard.
Martin watched Winnie fleeing from him like a mouse avoiding a cat. What was the matter with her today? She was acting very strange. He’d had the best bedding of his life and was in high spirits today. There was no reason for her not to be happy, too. After all, he’d made sure she was more than satisfied before she left his chamber last night. Twice, to be exact. He had to find out what was troubling her.
“Keep up the good work, Blacksmith,” he said, following after the girl. “Rock, check on the men. I’ll be right with you.”
“Aye, my lord,” said Rock, heading away.
Once out in the daylight, it took Martin a moment to find her. She was leaning over the well, splashing water from the bucket onto her face. He smiled and quietly crept up behind her. Putting his hands on her waist, he leaned over and kissed her behind the ear.
“Oh!” She dropped the bucket and almost fell into the well. He laughed, pulling her up against him. “What are you doing?” she asked, pushing out of his hold.
“Now is no time to act coy,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “After all, we both know what a little wildcat you really are.”
“Don’t call me that.” She smoothed down her gown, glowering at him all the while.
“What’s the matter with you, Winnie? You act as if you don’t want to be near me.”
“I don’t.” She stormed away and he followed.
“Don’t walk away from me before you’ve been dismissed,” he said, becoming angry at the way she was acting. She kept walking and didn’t turn around. He lunged for her, gripping her by the arm and twirling her around. “Did you hear me?”
“I heard you just fine,” she told him. “You are the one who did not hear me. I said I don’t want to be with you anymore.” She broke out of his hold and darted for the keep. Martin stood there feeling befuddled. His squire approached from across the courtyard.
“Lord de Grey, the men are ready,” said his squire. “Should I tell them you are not yet prepared to leave?”
“Nay.” His eyes remained fastened to Winnie’s backside as she disappeared indoors. He was so confused and frustrated by her actions that he felt like strangling her. No commoner was going to act this way and not be reprimanded. He was about to go after her when he decided it might be best to blow off some steam first. Even as angry as he felt, he didn’t want to push her further away. What they had experienced between them last night was something special. She was different than anyone he’d ever bedded before. Nay, he would wait until tonight to deal with her. After he’d returned from patrolling the borders with his men.
* * *
Winter wiped away her tears, watching from the open window of her chamber as Martin rode with a group of soldiers over the drawbridge. The last thing she had wanted to do was to push him away, but she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t go on coupling with the man without first telling him her true identity. It just wasn’t right. Part of her wanted him to know, yet another part of her wanted to keep it a secret. He’d been carefree and interesting when he thought she was just the daughter of a tradesman. If he knew she was really a lady, he would treat her like the other knights treated her. He wouldn’t touch her again because she was proper and that wasn’t the way a knight or lady would ever act.
The door to the room opened and she knew without turning around it was Nairnie. She could feel the old woman’s eyes burning a hole in the back of her head.
“Ye care for Martin, dinna ye?” Nairnie closed the door and headed across the room.
“I lost my virginity last night, Nairnie,” she admitted, still staring out the window. “He didn’t know I was a virgin or that I was a lady. If he had, I am sure he would have never touched me.”
“Did he force himself on ye, lassie?” Nairnie walked up behind her.
“Nay,” she said with a slight smile. “He seduced me, and I liked it. I was more than willing to couple with him. I wanted to know how it felt. And now that I do, I never want to be without it again.”
“Yer faither and brathairs would have Lord de Grey’s head if they kent what happened.”
“I know. That’s why we can never tell them.”
“Ye are different from yer sisters, Lady Winter. Ye are stubborn and strong-minded and want to experience everythin’ ye can in this lifetime.”
Winter turned to face her. “Does that make me a bad person, Nairnie? Will I go to hell for pretending I’m someone I am not and giving myself to Lord de Grey?”
“I dinna ken the answer to that, child. And there is no use frettin’ over somethin’ ye canna change. I feel I let down yer family. I came with ye from Ravenscar and promised to keep an eye on ye. I failed to do what I intended to do.”
“Nairnie, you didn’t let down my family because they don’t even know I’m here. And you are foolish if you honestly believe you could have stopped me. I would have done it no matter if you were here or not. I don’t understand how it happened so fast, but I am starting to have feelings for Lord de Grey. I am sure he has feelings for me as well.”
“Blethers, child, listen to yerself. Ye are a fool if ye believe Lord de Grey feels anythin’ toward ye but lust. He is a hardened man who loves to fight. His heart is made of steel, just like that sword you are forgin’ for him.”
“Nay, you’re wrong, Nairnie. He cares for me. I know he does.”
“Then prove it,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“If he honestly cares for ye as ye say, stay out of his bed. That will prove to both of ye that what I say is true. Once ye turn him away, he’ll find someone else to sate his lust, faster than ye can imagine.”
Winter turned to watch the traveling party of men disappearing in the distance. Nairnie was wrong. The connection between her and Martin was more than just lust. Or was it?
Chapter 9
Martin led his entourage of soldiers as they patrolled the borders, looking for Scots. It had been months now since he’d had a skirmish of any kind and he was just itching for a fight. What he really wanted was to cross the border and surprise Clan Dunbar. Laird Gregor Dunbar had better not have hurt his brother, Jamesson. If the man touched a hair on his brother’s head, there would be hell to pay.
“Lord de Grey, two riders are heading this way,” announced one of his knights, Sir Troy.
“It looks like they’re wearing plaid,” said Rock, stretching his neck to see the riders coming up the hill.
“Scots,” spat Martin, his hand going to his sword.
“Shall we attack?” asked another
of his men.
“Nay. We’ll see which clan they’re from first. We don’t want to do anything to anger the Dunbars yet. My brother’s life is at stake.”
“It looks like one of them is a girl,” announced Rock.
“Rock, Sir Troy, you’ll come with me and we’ll head them off. The rest of you watch our backs in case they have others hiding in the brush.”
“Aye, my lord,” answered his men.
Martin rode toward the approaching couple with Rock and Sir Troy at his side. He pulled his sword from the scabbard and held it with a tight grip, ready to fight if need be. The Scots on horseback noticed his action. As soon as they did, the male Scot had his sword drawn, and the girl with him reached to her back and nocked an arrow in a bow.
“Hold up!” Martin raised his hand in the air. His men stopped, and so did the Scots.
“I can take all three of ye out with my arrows before ye get close enough to use yer sword,” shouted the girl with the long blond braid.
“Aye,” Martin shouted back. “But can you take down the rest of my men as well?” His men appeared atop the hill behind him, their horses lined up in a row.
“We come in peace,” called out the male Scot with the red hair. “My sister and I are headin’ back to our clans and dinna want trouble. But if ye give us trouble, we are no’ afraid to take on all of ye by ourselves.”
“Then you don’t have others with you?” asked Martin, scoping the grounds.
“Did ye want to find out?” asked the girl, raising the tip of her arrow.
“Spring, ye are no’ a warrior anymore,” the man told her. “Ye have bairns at home that need ye. Now put down the bow.”
“Aye. Lower your weapons and we’ll do the same,” said Martin.
The Scots looked at each other and then slowly lowered their weapons. Martin did the same. “Rock, come with me,” he said in a low voice. “Sir Troy, stay here, so they don’t feel threatened by all three of us approaching.”
“Do you believe them?” asked Sir Troy. “How do we know they don’t have an entire clan waiting to attack us just over the knoll?”
“I doubt that,” said Martin. “The man said something about the girl having children. They might just be passing through as they said. I aim to find out.”
Once he approached the Scots, he got a better look at them. The man was rugged with long, red hair, wearing a green and blue plaid. The girl wore a dark green and gold plaid. Martin wasn’t familiar with all the tartans of the Scots, but he was sure they weren’t from Clan Dunbar since the Dunbars had green and red plaids. “Where are you going?” he asked the couple.
The man spoke up. “I’m travelin’ back to my family in the Lowlands, and my sister is travelin’ up to the Highlands to be with her husband and bairns.”
“I don’t recognize the plaids,” he told them. “Which clans do you belong to?”
“Who’s askin’?” said the woman, sounding very tough for a female.
“I’m Lord Martin de Grey of Castle Heaton and this is my squire, Rock. We’re patrolling the borders, watching for raiders.”
“We’re no’ raiders,” said the woman. “What my brathair tells you is the truth. I am Lady Spring from the Highlands. My husband is Laird Shaw Gordon.”
“Lady Spring?” he asked, hearing her odd name. There was only one time he’d heard that name before. He didn’t need to ask the man’s name because there was no doubt in his mind who he was talking to now. He looked at the redheaded man. “You’re one of King Edward’s bastard triplets, aren’t you?”
“Aye,” said the man with a satisfied smile. “I’m Reed - formerly kent as the Demon Thief. We are comin’ from Ravenscar where my sister, Lady Autumn, just married Lord Benedict Grenfell.
“Ravenscar?” he asked with a chuckle. “I was just there as well. I hear the former lord of Ravenscar is dead.”
“Aye, and I hear he was a nasty man,” said Spring.
“You don’t have to tell me. I made a deal with him, and now it’s up to an old blacksmith to make good on forging my sword.”
“Ah, ye must mean Wallace,” said Reed with a nod. “He was once the best blacksmith in all England.”
“What do you mean - was?” he asked.
Reed chuckled. “The man is goin’ blind. My sister, Lady Winter, is helpin’ him in the forge.”
“Your sister?” Martin became suspicious.
“Aye. She is probably the only lass in all of England who kens the trade. Winter is even better than the old man at forgin’ a sword. She’s goin’ to make me a claymore soon and just made daggers for my sister, Autumn, and her husband.”
“I see,” said Martin getting a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. The only girl he knew that could forge a sword was Winnie. Was it too much of a coincidence that she came from Ravenscar and her name sounded a lot like Winter?
“My lord,” said Rock. “His sister sounds a lot like –”
“We’re sorry to have bothered you,” Martin interrupted so Rock would tell them nothing. “We’ll be on our way now.”
He nodded to the Scots and turned and rode. When they were out of earshot, his squire spoke again.
“My lord, doesn’t his sister, Winter, sound a lot like Winnie?”
“She is Winnie,” he growled, feeling his anger grow.
“And you didn’t tell the bastard triplet?”
“Now, why would I do a stupid thing like that? If he knew I bedded his sister, it would only give him more reason to come back with his brothers and try to kill me.”
“You don’t want the Demon Thief after you,” said Rock. “I see your point. Well, look at the bright side. Mayhap Winnie isn’t Winter after all.”
“And mayhap she is,” said Martin.
“If so – that would mean she’s Scottish, wouldn’t it?” asked Rock.
“Nay! Don’t say that. I refuse to believe it.”
“But if her siblings are Scottish . . .”
“The bastard triplets are born from our own English king and an English noblewoman. He’s just pretending to be Scottish. The girl probably is too.”
“If Winnie is a noble – and the bastards are her siblings . . . is she a bastard of the king as well?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to talk about this anymore, so stop mentioning it.”
“All right, but mayhap it is just a coincidence and she is just Winnie – the blacksmith’s daughter.”
Martin thought of what Winnie had said to him last night in bed. Hadn’t she told him she was a lady? He had felt, at the time, she was only acting out a sexual fantasy. She’d also said she had three brothers. Damn! There was no doubt. She was the sister of the Bastard Triplets of the king. This wasn’t good at all. “Oh, she’s Lady Winter, I guarantee that,” said Martin. “But when I’m through with her she’ll be wishing she never lied to me at all.”
* * *
Winter had been focusing on her work so intently that she hadn’t even heard anyone enter the smithy. Wallace was taking a nap in the chair, and she had the whole sword shaped and almost pounded out.
“You’re a lefty, I see.”
Her head snapped up and she found Martin standing there. It was near the end of the day and, outside, the sun had already set. “Lord de Grey! I’m just . . . helping my father,” she said, realizing how dumb it sounded when Wallace let out a loud snore.
“I told you I didn’t want anyone touching my sword but Wallace.” He moved across the floor with stealth, almost as if he were stalking her. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She willed Wallace to wake up, but he kept on snoring.
“I – I’m sorry,” she said, putting down the hammer. “I won’t do it again.”
“Oh, yes you will,” he said, surprising her. “After all, I can’t have a nearly-blind man forging my sword, can I?”
“You . . . know?” Winter peeked up from under her long, black lashes, just about driving Martin mad with want. But his anger for her deception outweighed his lust
at the moment.
“Yes, I know that you’ve been deceiving me.” He was about to tell her he knew who she was as well, but decided to toy with her instead. She deserved it since she made a fool out of him. He wanted to let her experience how it felt in return.
“Y-you do?”
He was sure she wondered just how much he knew. He decided to let her sweat from more than just the forge. Curiosity filled him, and he wanted to know what she would do if he took her to his bedchamber again. He couldn’t really make love to her now that he knew she was a noblewoman, but he wanted to test her morals.
“Walk with me,” he said, taking her arm and pulling her to the door. “After all, we don’t want to wake up your father.”
“Aye, we don’t.” He swore he heard her release a breath of relief when he mentioned her father.
“You could have told me you were the one forging my sword. I’m very impressed that a girl knows the skill at all.” They walked to the keep as they talked. The torches lit up the cobbled stones of the courtyard. He’d been gone long, missing the main meal because he saw to other issues that seemed more important at the time.
“I didn’t think you’d let me do it,” she said as he directed her inside the keep.
“Good evening, my lord,” said one of his knights. A couple of servants acknowledged him as well. He nodded and called out a greeting to some of his men and his steward, so everyone would see them going to his bedchamber together. Winter squirmed, trying to remove her hand from his arm, but he made sure to hold her securely. His plan was working well. It was precisely the reaction he wanted from her. He intended to make her feel uncomfortable – just how he was feeling ever since he discovered the truth.
Having kept it to himself that he’d bedded the bastard’s sister wasn’t easy to do without breaking into a sweat when he’d talked with the triplet named Reed earlier.
Winter's Flame (Seasons of Fortitude Series Book 4) Page 8