The Thief's Countess (Border Series Book 1)

by Cecelia Mecca

  This morning, however, he had awoken hard and ready. He’d lain abed, remembering the look on Sara’s face as she’d given in to pleasure again and again. He could almost hear her crying out for him.

  Everything was on hold for one night. His duty, his brother … all of it would wait. He would leave her a virgin, but he’d make sure their last encounter was a memorable one.

  As word of John’s sentence spread and it became clear Randolf’s men were no longer a threat, the castle gradually came back to life. Sara had learned from her father not to harbor regret about thoughtful, informed decisions, but knowing a man who served her family would be put to death by her actions was disturbing nonetheless.

  Despite the trauma she’d lived through over the past days, Sara found that her thoughts kept straying ahead to her meeting with Geoffrey.

  What would happen in his chamber this eve? Could she really allow him to take the precious gift of her virginity? She’d overheard enough female conversation to know her betrothed need not learn she’d lain with another man, but even if Lord Lyonsford didn’t know, she would know.

  Could she do it?

  It was a sin of the worst kind. Her father would be gravely disappointed. And if she were ever caught … Sara couldn’t begin to consider it.

  But why was it so wrong? Geoffrey was everything she’d hoped her future husband would be. Handsome, strong, thoughtful, and most importantly, he spoke to her as an equal. He’d not only opened up to her about Bristol and Wellingstone; he’d actually asked for her advice.

  “What do you think?” he’d asked earlier after explaining the situation.

  She’d wanted to tell him he would have the support of the Caiser family, that he wouldn’t need Wellingstone or anyone else to secure his claim. But she didn’t have the authority to make the offer. It would be her future husband’s decision to commit men.

  It stung to think of marrying someone else when she was in love with Geoffrey, but titles and nobility still dictated their society. Sara was less free than some of the people who served at Kenshire. She needed to marry someone with a title. Someone of equal rank.

  Once, as a young girl, she’d refused to eat for two days after her father forbade her to wear breeches while he hosted guests. He told her, “You feel you’ve been wronged, so be it. But to refuse what’s freely given while others go hungry without that choice is shameful. I’ve never been ashamed of you, daughter, and I will not start today.”

  She could remember every word, even now. It was a lesson she’d do well to remember. She must stop feeling sorry for herself and her position and instead accept her duties.

  So be it.

  But she would not enter into this marriage without being loved first. She would give herself to Geoffrey and have no regrets. Because this, at least, she could control.

  “My lady, tis past time to change for supper.”

  How long had she been standing there, inside the entrance to the keep, lost in thought? When she finally followed Faye to her bedchamber, she squealed in delight. The large wooden tub still sat in the center of the room, and it had been filled with steaming water. She threw her arms around the pleasantly plump woman.

  “Bless you.”

  She quickly disposed of her gown with Faye’s assistance and then scrubbed her body clean, basking in the warmth of the water. Some time later, Sara reluctantly stood from the warmth of the tub and accepted a drying cloth. Faye helped her dress, and she submitted to her maid’s ministrations with new excitement. She was dressing for Geoffrey, and he would be the one who unclothed her.

  Once ready, she descended the stairs later than expected. She found Geoffrey already seated at the dais with his uncle and brother. She made her way toward them, confident in her bearing and her person.

  The ivory dress she was wearing had a gold trim and deep blue surcoat, and her newly washed dark hair cascaded in waves down her back. Sara nodded to those gathered in the hall but refused to glance in Geoffrey’s direction, not confident of her ability to remain composed when he looked at her.

  The mood in the great hall was lighter than it had been in weeks, and she was glad to see smiles on so many faces.

  “Damn, she’s comely.”

  Geoffrey glowered at his brother seated next to him.

  “Keep your voice down and your opinions to yourself.”

  Bryce failed to heed the warning.

  “I wonder, does the queen look half as regal as Lady Sara?”

  “Bryce.”

  “Just a question, brother.”

  “Drink your ale and content yourself by staring at all of the wenches looking in your direction.”

  Indeed, every female in the room seemed to either be looking at the dais or pretending not to. It was a common occurrence whenever Bryce was about, and Geoffrey knew his brother would take full advantage later.

  He’d pacified his brother for a time, promising to give his answer on the morrow. But he actually wanted to speak to Sara first and was surprised to realize he planned to ask her opinion on the matter.

  For him, there was only one woman whom Geoffrey wanted to get alone. He eyed her greedily as she made her way toward them.

  If only he could make her feel every inch of him. What he planned would stop just short of what he wanted, but it would be pleasing for them both. He’d thought of little else all afternoon.

  When Sara finally reached the table, she sat in the chair a servant had pulled out for her and turned immediately toward Hugh. Geoffrey inhaled deeply, his cock stirring at the mere sight and scent of his tormentor.

  She was nervous. Otherwise she’d have greeted him by now. He picked up a chalice, drinking deeply of the fine Portuguese wine. Every day he felt less out of place at Kenshire, and he had to admit that some of the luxuries here were indeed pleasurable.

  His leg brushed Sara’s, not accidentally, under the table. With Bryce sitting next to him and his uncle on the other side of his countess, this was hardly an occasion for flirting.

  But he couldn’t resist.

  She finally looked at him. There was no need to be coy. He’d be gone shortly. There wasn’t time.

  He didn’t say a word, letting his eyes tell her what he planned for them. She swallowed hard as he glanced at the delicate skin of her neck. He would taste her there. And everywhere.

  “Stop.”

  It was whispered so softly, he thought for a moment he’d imagined her voice.

  “Geoffrey.”

  He inclined his head as if it were their first greeting of the evening. “My lady.” He stared into her eyes, thinking about touching her, tasting her.

  “In all my life, I’ve never seen you so distracted.”

  Bryce sounded genuinely confused. Only then did Geoffrey register that his brother had called his name several times. Reluctantly turning away from Sara, he nodded to his brother.

  “I already gave you my reply, Bryce. You’ll have my answer tomorrow.”

  His brother was proving stubborn as usual, only now he was the one who wished to throw caution to the wind.

  “I know you think me a child, Geoffrey, but men my age lead troops, some with a wife and babe waiting for their return.”

  Geoffrey smirked, giving his brother a sideways glance. “Had I known you were so eager for a wife and child, I’d have spoken to our aunt and uncle about it. I’m sure Simon will have someone in mind for you.”

  Bryce snorted, “I’m as ready for a wife as you are.”

  Sara watched as the first course was served, though it wasn’t enough to distract her from the Waryn brothers’ conversation.

  “You don’t intend to marry, Sir Geoffrey?”

  His look was both carnal in intensity and raw with emotion.

  “The violence along the border won’t diminish anytime soon.”

  Sara tilted her head in thought. “Aye. We’re not immune here at Kenshire, so I understand your concerns. But surely you’ll want a child?”

  Geoffrey knew this was
more than a rhetorical question. “I’d like nothing more than to raise a family in safety, but doubt I’ll see such a thing in my lifetime.”

  Oblivious to Bryce, Sara continued to question him. “If your family’s safety could be assured?”

  Without hesitation, Geoffrey answered, “I would marry the right woman tomorrow.”

  Sara included Bryce in the conversation, realizing her intimate banter with Geoffrey might appear suspicious. “Do you agree, Sir Bryce?”

  The younger but more somber man shook his head. “Nay, my lady, I don’t. I’m sorry to say I’ve no wish to wed.”

  “Pray tell, why not?” She was genuinely interested.

  “Forgive me, my lady, but women tend to get me into more trouble than they’re worth. I’ll stick to fighting and let my siblings be responsible for furthering our family name.”

  “That is,” Geoffrey added, “if we’re successful in restoring the Waryns to their former position. At present, the name is associated with nothing more than poor freemen and reivers.”

  “Speaking of reiving…” Sara forged ahead even though both men winced. “Geoffrey tells me you live with your aunt and uncle and do not…” She needed to find the right words. “Partake in Hugh and Geoffrey’s activities.”

  So the man did laugh. Bryce was fairly shaking with mirth. “Partake in his activities?” he finally said. “Nay. Thanks to my brother, I wither away at my family’s small manor, training with the other knights and playing nursemaid to my younger brother and sister.”

  Sara sensed his resentment over the assignment—and felt indignant on Geoffrey’s behalf. “So you’d rather put your life and reputation on the line, no doubt worrying your brother and uncle, rather than protect your siblings from an attack like the one at Bristol?”

  Her words were so softly spoken it took both Bryce and Geoffrey a moment to register the depth of her rebuke.

  She didn’t care if her words angered the young man. It was exactly what her father would have said to her—one of his teachable moments—and it was something the young man needed to hear.

  His face much sterner than it had been a moment ago, Bryce bit back, “I wouldn’t put it in quite those terms.” Giving his full concentration to his ale, he turned away.

  Let him think on that a bit.

  Geoffrey, however, looked anything but sullen. A wide grin revealed the dimple she so loved, making him look more approachable. Less menacing. And his scar almost disappeared when he smiled.

  Lifting his chalice for a toast, he murmured, “Well played, my lady.” After taking a sip, he leaned close and whispered, “My thanks.”

  Sara smiled back and suddenly felt a strange sensation, a tightening of her muscles that almost made her shiver. Anticipation? Nerves?

  Knowing she gave Geoffrey too much attention, she turned to speak to Sir Hugh. As content as she’d been in a long while, Sara sipped her spiced wine, happy to see the hall come back to life. She refused to think about what the next day would bring.

  The night was still young.

  20

  .

  After supper, the men played a game of dice while Sara made her rounds of the hall, speaking to people she’d neglected these past days. She ensured their healer was well supplied and met with Peter, who animatedly apprised her of the progress with the gatehouse.

  All the while, she continued to steal glimpses of Geoffrey seated with his uncle and brother. Once she caught Geoffrey looking at her. The gleam in his eye gave her the same flutter she’d felt at dinner. She closed her eyes, picturing his lips on hers, and nearly burst with anticipation.

  Once upstairs, she prepared for bed with Faye’s assistance. As was her custom, the maid carefully placed her dress in a large wooden chest to be aired out another day. Sara crawled under the covers of her decadent featherbed—one of the few luxuries she allowed herself—and bid adieu to her maid. Watching the soft glow of the fire’s flames on the nearby tapestry, Sara allowed her mind to stray to Geoffrey’s banter with his brother. Something told her that Geoffrey would be the kind of husband her father had been to her mother. Although she had never known her mother, everyone spoke of the rare, loving relationship her parents had enjoyed. Her father had spoken so often about her mother, she sometimes forgot the memories were actually only stories. He’d often say, “A strong union meant to bring the Caiser family greater strength, and with it peace, doesn’t exclude the possibility of tender feelings.”

  Perhaps not, but neither did it signify the likelihood of a love match.

  And though Geoffrey would never be considered a “strong union” for her, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to share a future with her fierce but charming protector.

  But it was a future that would never exist, so she forced herself to concentrate instead on the pleasure Geoffrey brought her. He had told her to come to him tonight, and she would.

  Swinging her feet out of bed, she smoothed her unruly waves and made her way toward the door. Listening through a crack, she heard nothing to indicate anyone was about. Slowly, Sara made her way into the hallway.

  Geoffrey lay with his arms crossed behind his head, his heart beating in his chest like he was an untried lad. Knowing it was wrong but beyond caring, he waited anxiously for the door to open—and was startled when it did. Unable to stop smiling, his cock hard with anticipation, Geoffrey moved toward the door and was shocked to see his brother standing in the entranceway.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  He didn’t care how rough his voice sounded. Bryce had to go. Now.

  “When did you become so churlish?” Bryce closed the door behind him. Geoffrey watched him take in the sparse but richly appointed furniture, large four-poster bed, and roaring fire which cast the only light in the room save a candle on the table adjacent to the bed.

  Rather than answer, he walked toward his brother, attempting to stop his progress into the room.

  “What do you want?”

  Bryce startled. Geoffrey was usually not so short with him.

  “Hugh asked if you planned to sleep in the guardhouse with us now that Sara is safe.”

  As if on cue, the door creaked open once again. Geoffrey’s heart fell, panic overriding good sense. He crossed the room in a few long steps, but it was too late to stop her.

  Sara edged into the room quickly, only then noticing that she and Geoffrey weren’t alone. All three stared at one another for a moment, no one sure what to say.

  Bryce found his voice first. “Hugh will kill you.”

  The admonition spurred Sara into action. Eyes wide, she turned and fled from the room. Geoffrey didn’t attempt to stop her, knowing it would make the situation worse.

  “Geoffrey, what are you doing?”

  “I haven’t bedded the lass.”

  Bryce snorted, an arrogant sound that would have irritated Geoffrey on a good day.

  “So she came to talk politics, perhaps? Maybe to engage you in a game of Nine Men’s Morris?”

  He briefly considered lying to his brother, but he’d never done so before and knew it was unnecessary. “Nay,” he replied simply, watching Bryce’s face. Geoffrey still found it difficult to see that his younger brother had grown into a man on his watch.

  “I was right earlier. You love her.”

  Geoffrey poured a mug of ale for both of them from the pitcher on the table. It would be a long night.

  “It matters not.”

  Bryce didn’t argue. “You’re playing with fire.”

  His amorous brother was the least likely person in the world to offer advice on restraint,

  and Geoffrey found it hard to take him seriously.

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Do you? The Geoffrey I know exercises restraint. He waits patiently to take revenge, knowing a premature attack could be fatal. He lowers himself to common thievery for the sake of his siblings but refuses to harm innocents. He fights like the devil and scares the hell out of just ab
out everyone, but he is never ever impetuous.”

  His brother was right. He had no response. Instead, he poured himself another drink and invited Bryce to do the same.

  “To talks of politics.” He mocked himself with a toast, signaling the end of a discussion he had no wish to continue.

  Bryce grinned, having made his point. “And games of Nine Men’s Morris.”

  In the bedchamber across the hall, Sara paced the room, panicked by the possible repercussions of her actions. Would Bryce keep their secret? Did he know what they’d intended? What was Geoffrey telling him?

  The pacing helped her sort out her thoughts, and eventually her panic abated. She couldn’t imagine Bryce would betray his brother. Unfortunately, she had no siblings, but if her friend Gillian were ever in such a spot, she’d keep a secret for her until her dying breath.

  Gillian. Her friend would never put herself in such a situation. Though as wild inside as Sara, she was also much more … typical. Always a lady, she’d never once worn breeches or ridden bareback. She certainly had never shown any interest in learning to shoot with a bow and arrow. Such pursuits were left to her older brother. A powerful baron’s daughter, she knew her place and would never jeopardize it.

  Which was exactly what Sara had very nearly done by entering Geoffrey's chamber. She had put the future of Kenshire, of the Caiser name, at risk. For passion.

  Nay, for love.

  The distinction hardly mattered. While her heart raced at the sight of him, and only him, they couldn’t be together. Sara’s eyes welled with tears as she sat on the edge of her bed. She had lost her father and now she was about to lose the only man she’d ever fallen in love with. Their stolen kisses could not continue. By God’s bones, she’d been prepared to give him her virginity!

  An image of Geoffrey surfaced in her mind. Him cupping her face, his thumb tenderly outlining her lips, eyes filled with emotion. She tried to hold back tears, but they streamed down her face anyway. She let them come, allowed herself to wish for things that couldn’t be. For her father to be alive, for Geoffrey to stay. Why couldn’t things be different?