I smiled with a bittersweet kind of gladness. “I know. You’ll make an excellent duke.”
“Providing no one believes the insanity. I can’t talk any more about ghosts and my spirit wandering around without my body, not in public.”
“These things are natural to Barbara,” I said. “Not signs of madness.”
“I wish the rest of the world was like her, but it isn’t.” He reached out and took back my hand. “What about you, Guin? You seem very accepting of these oddities.”
I thought about it. “Not really accepting,” I replied. “Just trying to adjust. In fact, I’m desperate to know exactly how and why it all works, as Barbara will tell you. I’m simply trying not to bombard you with all the questions I asked her. You don’t have the time for that.”
“I have time for one or two.”
I drew in my breath. “Very well. I can’t help wondering how you came by such gifts. Barbara’s family all seem to have them, or at least the women do to one extent or another. I’m guessing your family doesn’t, since they all thought you were insane.”
“My mother did,” he said matter-of-factly. “But she didn’t cope with it very well, I think it really did drive her to insanity. She couldn’t control it, let alone make it work for her. I learned, I think, from her mistakes.”
I pounced. “So you can control it? You can choose where your spirit goes?”
“Not always, but usually.” His intense eyes, which had grown more distant as he spoke of his mother, seemed to refocus on me. “I visited you several times. I’m sorry you suffered for me.”
“I suffered for my own insatiable curiosity. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“You are generous.” His eyes searched my face, keenly, as if looking for something in particular. “Did you think of me sometimes?”
“I found your Dr. Alcuin.”
He dismissed that. “I mean me, not my problems. I thought of you a lot.” Without warning, his hand moved, releasing mine to splay instead across my belly. “Do you think you have a child in there?”
I stared at him in shock. “Is once enough?” I blurted.
He let out a breath of laughter. His eyes danced. “It can be. You had better marry me, Lady Guinevere.”
I tried to swallow the sudden lump in my throat. I didn’t want to be married for such a reason. The trouble was, with every moment spent in his company, I wanted the marriage itself more and more.
Ridiculous. I didn’t know him.
“Thank you for your kind offer, sir,” I said lightly, “but I must decline.” If I was with child, there were options. I could bear it in secret and give it to a kind couple. I could live abroad and care for it myself, hide my identity…
A veil seemed to have come down over his intense, expressive eyes. “I thought you wanted to marry me.”
“You need a different wife entirely,” I said ruefully.
“Do I?” His hand lay heavily on my abdomen. His fingers stretched and began idly to rub.
I swallowed. “I will not bind you for life just because you chose a moment of comfort.”
“Won’t you?” he said huskily. His hand stroked lower until his fingertips touched my pubic bone and pressed.
I gasped, trying not to push my hips upward. “No!”
“Yet the comfort was sweet. The bindings would be sweeter.” His wicked hand slid lower, outrageously pushing the fabric of my gown and petticoats between my legs. “What would you suggest? That you be my lover? My mistress?”
I barely understood the words as the side of his hand stroked rhythmically between my thighs. I knew I should stop him before he went any further. Only…
“Is mistress an appropriate position for the respectable daughter of a most respected earl?” he asked.
“No.”
“But you’re already my lover. My child could be growing in your womb.” His hand left off its delicious torture, though only to tug my skirts up a little and slide underneath. He leaned over me, pushing me onto my back with the pressure of his shoulder. His face was very close to mine as his hand reached my waist, slid under the band of my drawers. I gave up even trying to convince myself to object. I knew where this was leading, and I yearned for it.
“I’ve been inside you, loving you,” he murmured, his deep, soft voice thrilling through me. “I gave you pleasure and I took my own, right here.”
I gasped as his fingers skimmed over all my most intimate parts and one pushed right inside me.
“Are you telling me you’re willing to pleasure me but not to marry me?” His quickened breath stirred my lips. I clutched his arm. I could barely understand what he was saying because of what he was doing.
“Yes,” I whispered. “No! I mean… Kasimir—”
“Then tell me to stop,” he murmured, and before I could, if I truly meant to, he sank his mouth into mine and I couldn’t have said anything if I’d tried. I didn’t, for his hand and his mouth were making love to me, and it was so sweet, so necessary.
I opened my mouth and kissed him back. My trembling legs fell farther apart to accommodate his wonderful, stroking hand. His palm caressed among my secret folds, uncovering the little bud of delight for his thumb to glide over and torture. And all the while, his fingers moved lethargically inside me. My muscles clenched around them, and that was even better.
His mouth left mine and bent lower, pressing instead over my covered breast until I felt the furnace like heat of his breath on my nipple. His tongue flicked over the fabric and his mouth fastened as his hand caressed, and the bliss flamed through me, wildfire and ice, melting me, convulsing me. I could only cling to him, my fingers buried in his hair as I rode the tide.
When I could think again, his weight was heavy against my hips, the hard shaft of his erection pressing against me. I wriggled beneath him, offering myself without words, but he held me still and kissed me.
“An unselfish gift this time,” he murmured against my lips. “To remember me until I come back.”
“I won’t be here, Kasimir, I can’t…” Appalled, I felt tears in the corners of my eyes, blocking my throat.
“Yes, you will. The borders are closed until I can confirm exiting treaties with our neighbours.” He kissed the corner of my eye. I even felt the flicker of his tongue and knew he was licking my tears. I was found out. “Wait for me.”
I gasped and gasped again, trying to find the words. “I want you to have freedom to choose. I couldn’t bear to be your burden, your duty. You don’t know me, any more than I know you.”
“When I come back, we can change that.”
“Or you can marry some princess to seal your position. You’ve taken the dukedom, Kasimir. It’s up to you to look after it. Emotional whims, what you might regard as honour, neither matters beside that.”
He moved, pressing his shaft shamelessly against me and grinned at my involuntary reaction. “But you still want me.”
Half laughing, half crying, I pushed him off me and swept my skirts back into place. He rose to his feet, stretching down his hand to help me. When I took it, he pulled me straight up and into his arms. His breath whispered beguilingly against my ear as he said, “Next time, I’ll be inside you. I’ll make you scream. All night. And you will marry me.”
My limbs still shook as he led me through the undergrowth, back to the tower. Then he left me with another long kiss that curled my toes, and without another word, leapt up the winding stairs, two at a time.
I leaned against the door until my heart had calmed enough, and then I followed. By the time I reached Augusta’s rooms, the new duke was riding out of the courtyard at the head of his troops.
Chapter Fifteen
“Well,” Barbara murmured behind me. “Now I understand the fuss.”
“What fuss?” I asked mechanically. From the window, I was watching his retreating back, dark
and unexpectedly staid at the head of the uniformed soldiers. He’d left a garrison under Friedrich’s lieutenant and taken the colonel himself and the rest of the force, with prisoners.
“Yours,” Barbara said. “About him. I can see he’s worth a little fuss and bother.”
With Friedrich beside him, he emerged on the other side of the courtyard arch. He sat his horse well, if just a little stiffly. He hadn’t had much opportunity for riding in the last eight years. Suddenly he stood up in the stirrups, one hand raised high above his head. His horse, a large, white animal, reared up, and I gasped, appalled, sure he would be thrown. Friedrich, clearly alarmed, lunged to help, but Kasimir held his seat, grasping the reins firmly in one hand, and I realised with somewhat outraged relief that he was doing it deliberately.
The white horse’s front hooves hit the ground already galloping. There was nothing for the soldiers to do but gallop after him in a massive cloud of dust and mud. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time because he was still just a little mad.
And just a little bound by his new, massive responsibilities. He felt their weight because he took them so seriously, and he must, besides, have been curtailing his more unconventional side for the last week. This was his release.
And of course he’d travel quicker.
I found I was smiling despite the lump in my throat. “That is Kasimir.”
“He was wound up too tightly,” Barbara observed.
“I know.” And what he’d given me without taking any release of his own could hardly have eased that tension.
I peered into the fast-moving cloud of soldiers. I couldn’t even see him anymore. I could feel Barbara’s perceptive gaze on my face. She read emotions, if she let herself.
She said, “What is it, Guin?”
I drew in my breath. Until she’d spoken, I hadn’t even registered that anything was wrong. “I don’t know. Something isn’t right with him.”
She blinked. “That’s what everyone else has been saying for years. Now, you agree?”
I swung away from the window, waving one dismissive hand. “Not that stuff! It’s just something vague I can’t put my finger on. Anxiety, probably. He’s taken on a lot with little experience, and every nobleman and administrator in the country will be out to trap him one way or another. I’d worry too. Barbara—” I broke off, shaking my head.
“What? You want to know what I think of him but don’t want to ask because it seems disloyal?”
I smiled unhappily. “Am I so transparent? I don’t want character references. I made my own judgments when I agreed to help him. I just want to know if he’s…safe.”
“You mean is he strong enough to carry this through?”
I nodded.
“I think so. He’s defeated the man who hurt him. Leopold. The rest is easy for him. He’s very aware, perceptive, determined, and highly intelligent. For what it’s worth, I doubt there’s a cruel bone in his body.”
“If you wanted to be very kind, you could bring me a file instead. One of those sharp, narrow ones I could use to kill my gaoler after I cut my chains with it.”
I shook my head to clear the memory. The words of a chained, abused and frustrated man.
“Would you really do that?” I’d asked him.
“I’ve done it before, I think…”
I rubbed my temple. “Where is Augusta?”
“She went to lie down. Button is looking after her. I’m quite impressed she isn’t having hysterics. Patrick doesn’t believe she—or you—are in any danger. This is a very civilised coup d’état.”
“Well, I suppose it’s a legal one, which helps. Where is Patrick?”
“Gone with your Kasimir, of course. Following his story.”
“He isn’t my Kasimir,” I said quickly. “Do you mind?”
“That Patrick went? No, of course not. Not now. It’s who he is, and he’ll be back in a few days.” Her gaze was clear as she regarded me. “In what way is he not your Kasimir? Don’t you love him?”
I swung away from her again, throwing myself discontentedly into the nearest chair. “How can I love him? I don’t know him.”
“You knew him well enough to connive at his escape, to give him, effectively, the control of an entire, if tiny, country.”
I lifted my chin. “I was moved by the injustice and cruelty of his situation.”
“Of course you were,” she soothed.
I eyed her with dislike. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Only a little. His feelings for you are strong and tender. I would call them love.”
Warmth seemed to seep up from my toes, gathering speed and momentum as it spread through my whole body, burning my cheeks. It seemed I wanted to hear that too much.
I said hoarsely, “He asked me to marry him.”
“And will you?”
I shook my head. “I’m the only woman he’s seen in eight years. Apart from a few prostitutes he was handed like his dinner. And, I suspect, a bit of concentrated debauchery when he escaped during the revolution.”
“Wouldn’t you fight for him?” she asked with interest.
“Not to bind him,” I said, dashing at my inconveniently watery eyes. “I won’t be his new chains, Barbara. He deserves better than that. He deserves to choose.”
“And if he chooses you?”
“He won’t,” I said simply.
She regarded me for a long moment, then shrugged. “For what it’s worth, small stature and spectacles do not make you less lovable, less intelligent, or less beautiful. If you are necessary to his happiness, doesn’t he deserve you?”
I stared at her.
“What do you deserve, Guin?” she asked deliberately.
I swallowed. “You’re tying me in knots,” I whispered.
Her serious face relaxed into a rueful, understanding smile. “Love does that. I should know. Now, you have a castle full of frightened and anxious servants. What are you going to do about it?”
* * * * *
It struck me over the next few days that he’d meant me to do this, to run the castle for him.
Of course, it more or less ran itself, for Leopold’s staff were well trained, even if they were new. But because I spoke to them, explained what was happening, and reassured them as to their safety and their continued employment—I’d have to make sure the latter was true!—I became the final word in all disputes and difficulties. I didn’t mind. I was good at it. It was why I was so in demand with my sisters, who claimed their households always ran more smoothly when I stayed with them.
I made a few adjustments to our food suppliers too. Many staples could be acquired locally rather than by import. And since there was no one to prevent me, I visited the villages around the castle and made arrangements to care for those in need. There was no excuse for Leopold to have neglected such a basic duty, and very little for Augusta to have gone along with it. She’d been brought up as I had.
And so my days were busy and at least some of them productive. But I didn’t sleep particularly well at night. I thought a lot about Kasimir, remembering his kisses, his caresses. Barbara had been right. Why should I doubt his love when I’d doubted nothing else about him? Because he hadn’t said the words? Because I doubted my own worthiness? Part of me knew I was right to have given him time. Another part wished I’d jumped into his saddle behind him and ridden with him to Rundberg, sharing the adventure, sharing his life.
Maybe both of us deserved happiness now, when we’d found it. If it didn’t last forever, why, then we’d still have had our share…
One evening, shortly after Kasimir had left again, I wandered restlessly into the passage leading to my old bedroom. The wall had been fully demolished and the rubble cleared away. More surprisingly, although I’d given no orders concerning the old part of the castle, the room had been cleaned, and the bed made.
But there were no belongings here. The wardrobe was empty. No one was living here.
I smiled to myself. Had he ordered this? To give me back my old room if I wanted it? I sat down on the bed, and my eye was caught by a pile of notebooks on the shelf of the night table.
Slowly, I reached down and picked them up. Kasimir’s old notebooks. I didn’t know if he’d put them here during his escape, or if he’d found them somewhere else in his recent visit, perhaps in Leopold’s rooms. Whatever, I was sure this was an invitation to read them. And so I did, until I fell asleep.
I woke with a start. My heart was drumming. I thought it had something to do with the echo in my ear. A sound, surely, like the howl of a beast.
It was dark. My candle had gone out, so I sat up, fumbling to light another. Everything was silent. No howling, no roars. For the first time since I’d wakened in my new bedroom to be told I’d dreamed the last two weeks of my life, I vividly remembered that moment in the prisoner’s cell when I’d first discovered he’d gone, and run to search for him. Some invisible force had seemed to hold me back. I shivered. It had all seemed part of the nightmare that had culminated in the baroness forcing that vile liquid down my throat. Now I didn’t know. So much seemed to happen that couldn’t be explained by my old, rational beliefs. Kasimir—and Barbara—talked to the dead. There really were ghosts in the castle and Kasimir’s spirit travelled outside his body to visit me. Had that been him, his spirit, holding me back that night?
There was so much I needed to ask him. My dream of him, just before waking to find Barbara for the first time—had that been him comforting me because he’d sensed my distress? Did he watch over me all the time?
And I’d sent him away. Like a capricious schoolgirl. While telling him, basically, that he was too immature to know his own wants and needs. Kasimir had lived so much of his young life isolated from the world that it could so easily be true. Only…it was as if he had an old soul.
I smiled at the notebooks, laughing at myself while still acknowledging the precocious awareness apparent in his writing when he was no more than fifteen years old. There was a reason Kasimir fascinated me on so many levels. He was a fascinating man, and I would be a fool to reject him if he still wanted me. Everything in me yearned towards him, to know the man as well as his caresses. God knew the journey would be fun. Weird and tumultuous, I was sure, but fun.
The Prisoner of Silverwood Castle Page 18