Connie Mason

by The Black Knight

  Drake waited with surprising patience while Richard caught his breath and quenched his thirst.

  “I have news,” Richard said, panting between words. “I made myself inconspicuous at Chirk, posing as one of the villagers who passed through the gates daily to offer their services. No one recognized me as one of your knights.” He paused and held out his cup for a refill. A servant hurried to comply.

  “What news do you bring?” Drake said anxiously.

  “Lord Waldo searched for his wife in Scotland and returned to Chirk in high temper.” He cast a sidelong glance at Raven. “When I left he was recruiting men and making war machines for a siege on Windhurst. A knight from another camp told Lord Duff and Lord Waldo that he saw Lady Raven with the Black Knight. Waldo is convinced he will find her at Windhurst.”

  “How long do we have?” Drake asked.

  “A fortnight, no more.”

  Drake began to pace. He glanced at Raven, saw her white face, and realized he would not give her up. Not now, maybe not ever.

  Drake stroked his chin, his mind working furiously. “Our walls are still under construction, and the new fortifications are nowhere near completion. We have not the manpower yet to repel a siege such as Waldo and Duff intend to launch.”

  “What about Sir John?” Raven asked. “How soon do you expect him with reinforcements?”

  Drake’s expression turned grim. “We cannot wait for him. I am no coward, but the odds are against us. Fighting Waldo now will end in disaster. Windhurst cannot be defended in its present condition. The lives of my men are at stake. No man will die defending a pile of stone,” he vowed fiercely. “I value life too highly.”

  “Sir Richard, if you are recovered now, return to the barracks and spread the word that we ride at daybreak. Every man is to ride in full armor and carry naught but necessities and a sack of oats for his mount.”

  “Aye, my lord,” Richard said, striding briskly from the hall.

  “What about Windhurst?” Raven asked. “Waldo will come and destroy all you have worked so hard to rebuild.”

  He grasped her arms. “It matters not, Raven. ’Tis your safety that concerns me. I shudder to think what will happen should Waldo get his hands on you. I cannot protect you here. Windhurst is still vulnerable to attack, but I am not without a plan.”

  “Where will we go?” Raven asked, wringing her hands.

  He pulled her into his arms, wondering if this was to be the last time he would hold her like this. He’d never imagined that taking Raven’s virginity would result in his becoming Raven’s champion and protector.

  “I am taking you to my grandmother in Wales,” he informed her. “You will be safe with Granny Nola.”

  Raven looked confused and frightened. “Wales? Isn’t your grandmother’s home close to Chirk and the border?”

  “Aye, ’tis very close, but the only ones who knew of Granny are now dead. Granny lives in a small cottage in Builth Wells, no more than a day’s ride from Chirk.”

  “Is that where your mother met your father?”

  “Aye. Your father and mine were friends. Lord Nyle had a hunting box near the village. He and my father hunted there often. Granny said Mother was gathering berries in the woods when my father chanced upon her. When Lord Nyle returned to Chirk, Father was so smitten that he stayed and wooed my mother. They were married by the village priest within days of meeting.”

  “I do not understand. Everyone assumed you were born on the wrong side of the blanket.”

  “Granny said Basil’s father, the old Earl of Eyre, was enraged over the marriage and sent men to burn down the church where the records were kept. The old earl had already chosen a wife for Basil and a wedding date was set. The banns had been posted and the dowry agreed upon. The old earl ordered Basil back to Eyre immediately, and his men-at-arms made sure his orders were obeyed. My father returned to Eyre and I never saw him until he came for me after Mother died.”

  “How did Lord Basil know your mother had died?”

  “Lord Nyle kept him informed. I learned later that Nyle paid a villager to send word of my progress to him at regular intervals. He reported my mother’s death, and in turn your father told mine. You know the rest.”

  “How do you know your grandmother is still alive?”

  “Granny Nola is still hale and hearty. I visited her briefly before I attended the tourneys at Chirk. Only my most trusted knights know of the village and Granny’s existence. You will be safe there.”

  “Will you remain at Builth Wells with me?”

  He glanced away. “I cannot. After I escort you to Granny’s home, I plan to ride out to intercept Waldo before he reaches Windhurst. All I own is within the keep. Before we leave, the valuables and gold I earned will be moved to a cave below the castle at the foot of the cliff, just above the high-water mark. Naught I possess will ever belong to Waldo.” His expression softened. “And that includes you, sweet Raven.”

  Raven’s dismay was obvious. “Waldo’s forces outnumber yours. You cannot possibly hope to stop them with your small army.”

  “I am leaving Sir Richard behind in the village. He will know where to find me when Sir John arrives with the mercenaries.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Go upstairs and pack, Raven, while I instruct the servants and workmen. When I return, I intend to make love to you all through the night.”

  Raven turned and walked away, sadness dulling her eyes. She had known this day would come, just as surely as she knew Waldo would never give her up. Drake’s inadequate army stood little chance of defeating Waldo’s and Duff’s combined forces. She feared she was going to lose him before she’d really ever had him. The fear was so intense, she recoiled in pain. Something terrible was going to happen. She knew it. She could feel it in her bones, though she was no seer.

  It was very late when Drake returned. She had already undressed down to her shift and was waiting for him on the bench before the fire. He was soaked to the skin, and she realized he must have been below the cliff, stowing his money chests. He seemed preoccupied as he tore off his wet clothing and dried himself with a soft cloth. Abruptly he threw the cloth aside and held out his arms to her. She walked into them and they closed around her.

  “Everything is in readiness for our departure,” he whispered against her hair. “The servants are to return to their homes in the village, but the stonemason and laborers will continue to work on the walls. Sir Richard has agreed to remain behind and wait for Sir John and the mercenaries. When they arrive, Richard will take the mercenaries to join my men-at-arms, where they will await me in the forest near Chirk. I’ve instructed him to send Sir John to me at Builth Wells.”

  “If you expect Sir John soon, why not wait here for him?”

  He stared at her, his expression unreadable. “I cannot take chances with your life. Once I know you are safe, I can concentrate on turning Waldo away from Windhurst.”

  “But . . .”

  He placed a finger against her lips. “Nay, my mind is made up. This may be the last night we have together for a very long time; let us not waste it.”

  He tipped her face up for his kiss. She melted against him, trying not to think about tomorrow, or the tomorrows to follow. This man, the notorious Black Knight, might not love her as she loved him, but deep within her heart she knew he cared for her.

  Drake removed Raven’s shift and stared at her. Firelight gilded her flesh, turning it all gold and shimmery. Her breasts were perfect, just the right size to fill his hands. Her nipples were pink and prominent. He bent his head and licked them, each one in turn. Spellbound, he watched them tauten into rosy buds. Wordlessly she lifted her face, offering her lips.

  His hands framed her face as he took her mouth. Then his hands drifted away, resting on her shoulders before sweeping down her back, over her hips, drawing her fully against him. He groaned against her mouth. He could wait no longer. He was already hard as a rock. Urgency drove him as Raven clung to him, her hands reaching for
him. His manhood jerked in response as her fingers curled around him.

  “God’s blood, Raven, you are killing me!”

  Grasping her buttocks, he lifted her. Her legs came around his waist, opening to him. She was wet and hot—so hot his loins were on fire where they meshed with hers. He could not think; he could only feel as he backed her up against a tapestry-covered wall and thrust himself inside her sweet passage. She cried out; he heard naught but the pounding of blood in his ears.

  “Come to me now, sweet Raven,” he rasped into her ear. “I can hold back no longer.”

  “I am with you,” Raven said on a shuddering breath.

  Her contractions triggered his own release. Holding her gyrating hips in place, he embedded himself deeply and pumped his seed into her. When he had given her all he had, he could not bear to leave her, so he carried her to the bed with her legs gripping his waist and his manhood still buried inside her. Though he had climaxed scant moments ago, his erection had not softened.

  He still wanted her.

  He made love to her again, and yet again. The night ended as it must, however, albeit too soon for Raven. There were things she wanted to say that were left unsaid. She wanted to ask Drake if he cared for her. Sometimes he acted as though he did, yet . . . Drake, however, was a man who rarely expressed his emotions, and she was left in the dark as to the nature of his feelings for her. She knew he enjoyed making love to her, but men were men. They were all alike when it came to women. Making love did not necessarily mean a man liked or even loved the woman he made love to.

  Those thoughts and more were still warring within her when sleep finally claimed her.

  The following morning the servants gathered in the courtyard to bid the lord of the castle, his leman, and his knights farewell. All the servants but Balder, who had refused to leave the castle, and Sir Richard, who remained behind to await Sir John and direct the work on the walls, were to return to their homes.

  Drake’s men carried enough food to last until the journey’s end if they ate sparingly. They even brought along extra horses to replace those that could not maintain the rapid pace. Sir Richard stood nearby to receive final orders.

  “Your orders will be relayed to Sir John when he arrives, my lord,” he assured Drake.

  “Very good, Richard. You know where you are to direct him, do you not?”

  “Aye. Your army is to await you in the woods near Castle Chirk. Mayhap I will enter the keep dressed as a peasant to learn what I can about Waldo and Duff.”

  “Be careful,” Drake warned.

  “Aye. I was careful before. No one recognized me as one of your knights.”

  “Are you ready, my lady?” Drake asked as Raven rode up to join him.

  “As ready as I will ever be,” Raven replied. “I rather like Windhurst,” she said wistfully. “But I am resigned. As long as I am married to Waldo, I will never have a home of my own.”

  She moved her horse close to Drake’s destrier and touched his arm. “Mayhap I should return to Waldo and put a stop to further bloodshed. Or better yet, I could just disappear. Your life would be much simpler were I not around to complicate it.”

  Drake placed his hand over hers. “I am a knight, my lady. I have sworn to protect those weaker than myself. Besides, this blood feud between me and Waldo must come to a head one day. He has made attempts upon my life and I know not why. I will not rest until I learn what fuels his hatred. He considers me a threat to him, though I can think of naught he has to fear from me. He is our father’s heir, not I.”

  Drake gave the signal and the small party left the courtyard. Raven followed, stretching her memory back to the time when they were all children growing up at Chirk. Even then Waldo had harbored animosity toward Drake. He had treated Drake with disdain and called him names, but that was as far as it had ever gone. Something must have happened in later years to turn Waldo’s disregard for Drake into the kind of loathing that made a man want to kill his brother.

  Did Drake’s grandmother hold the key?

  Ten

  Love gives a knight courage.

  Drake and Raven parted company with Drake’s knights and men-at-arms before they crossed the Welsh border. The warriors remained in England, camped in the forest near Castle Chirk, where they were to await Drake’s orders, while Drake and Raven continued on to Builth Wells. They had not encountered Waldo and his forces, for which Raven thanked God, and the weather had held, affording them a swift journey to their destination. They reached the Welsh border in less than a sen-night and were within a day’s ride of Granny Nola’s cottage.

  During their march to Wales there had been little opportunity for privacy, and Drake had not touched Raven in all that time, though she ached to feel his arms around her again. He had been preoccupied with strategy and often met long into the night with his men. They all slept out in the open, so when Drake joined her on the pallet Evan made up for them, they did naught but cuddle before falling into an exhausted sleep. Then they were up and on their way by dawn the next morning.

  They rode now over hills and across moors ablaze with heather and crisscrossed with low stone fences that had withstood wind and rain and the ages with grace.

  “Look,” Drake said, pointing to a cluster of thatched cottages that clung precariously to a hillside. “ ’Tis Builth Wells.”

  “Does your grandmother live in the village?” Raven asked curiously.

  “Aye. Her cottage sits at the end of a crooked lane near the edge of town. I moved her there from the small shack we occupied when I was a child. I tried to bring her to England but she would not budge. She is probably standing now upon the doorstep, awaiting us.”

  His words puzzled Raven. “Did you send a messenger ahead to tell her of our arrival?”

  Drake shook his head. “Granny Nola has ways of knowing things that few people comprehend. You will find out for yourself,” he said cryptically.

  They rode through the village. It was market day, and their appearance drew curious glances. Some of the villagers, apparently recognizing Drake, waved or called out a greeting. Drake waved back but did not stop as they turned down a narrow lane and continued to the end. The snug cottage was just as Drake described, its thatched roof rising against a backdrop of blue skies and scudding clouds. And just as Drake said, a small woman leaning heavily upon a cane stood on the doorstep, waiting to greet them. Raven cocked an eyebrow at Drake.

  “I told you so,” he said as he dismounted and lifted Raven from her palfrey. Hand in hand they approached the small, thin woman whose gray hair was rolled into a neat bun at her nape.

  Suddenly the woman rushed forth to meet them, the cane merely a prop on her arm as her feet literally flew over the cobbled walk. There was nothing feeble about this woman, Raven thought as Granny Nola flew into Drake’s open arms.

  “I have been waiting for you,” Granny said. “Danger lurks; you must take care.” She turned her penetrating blue eyes upon Raven. Their intensity and clarity surprised Raven. One would not expect such stunning perception in a woman of Granny Nola’s age.

  “This is Raven of Chirk, Granny,” Drake said, pulling Raven closer for his grandmother’s inspection.

  Granny smiled sweetly. “Raven, aye, I have been waiting for you,” she said, as if confirming something she had always known.

  Raven’s eyes widened. “You have?” She sent Drake a confused look. “Have we met before, ma’am?”

  “You may call me Granny Nola, or just Granny, if you prefer. And to answer your question, nay, we have not met, though I have known of you for many years. You are as beautiful as I knew you would be.”

  Raven was shocked but not alarmed. Sometime in the past Drake must have mentioned her to his grandmother. “Thank you, Granny, but I fear you exaggerate. I am not the beauty my mother was.”

  “Come inside. I have food waiting for you. You must be exhausted after your journey.”

  “Did I not tell you?” Drake whispered to Raven as they followed Granny in
to the cottage. “Granny Nola is unique.”

  Unique was not the word Raven would have used, but she certainly was different. She had heard about people who had the “sight” and wondered if Granny was one of those blessed with the gift.

  The cottage was small by most standards, but scrupulously clean and neat. Delicious smells emanated from the hearth, where a pot hung over the coals. Raven made a slow perusal of the cottage and liked what she saw. The room into which Granny led them held a hearth hung with various cooking pots and utensils, benches, a table and chairs, and a settle decorated with colorful pillows. A door led to another room, which Raven assumed was a bedroom—probably the only bedroom.

  “There is a loft beneath the roof,” Granny said, as if reading Raven’s mind. “ ’Tis tidy and comfortable. I am sure you will find it adequate.”

  Raven flushed. “Thank you. It will be perfect.”

  “Sit down,” Granny invited. “ ’Tis lamb stew you smell. I will dish you up a bowl. There is fresh bread on the table and apple pie for dessert.”

  Drake smacked his lips. “You do know the way to a man’s heart, Granny.”

  “How long can you stay?” Granny asked as she set the food on the table. “Your last visit was far too brief.”

  “I fear this visit will be no longer than the last. I am here now because I need a safe place to leave Raven. My men await me in the forest near Chirk. I intend to stop Waldo before he destroys Windhurst.”

  Granny eyes grew murky with fear. “Raven is welcome, but there is danger in the air. Your half brother wants your death.”

  “Fear not, Granny,” Drake soothed. “I can afford to fund an army. Sir John is out recruiting mercenaries now. When I meet Waldo, it will be on equal footing.”

  Granny gazed beyond Raven’s shoulder at something only she could see. “My grandson fights for you, does he not, my lady? Are you not Waldo’s wife?”

  Raven exhaled sharply. Granny Nola was too knowledgeable, too canny. Did she blame Raven for bringing trouble upon her grandson?