by Diana Cosby
She frowned. “But you left?”
“Left?” Memories of how he, and many of his Brother’s fled beneath the cover of darkness ripped open his soul. “Never would I leave what I loved.”
“But—” Despair filled her eyes. “Oh God, the whispers of King Philip ordering the arrests of the Knights Templar but weeks ago are true.”
Nor was he surprised by the rapid spread of news of the Templars’ demise. Nay doubt the shock of the French king’s declaration had fed many a tongue, and with those envious of the Templars’ wealth and power, jealous righteousness as well. “Aye, except unknown to King Philip, before the charges of heresy were publicly disclosed on Friday, the thirteenth of October, the Grand Master had been forewarned of the monarch’s nefarious intent.”
Her hand tightened on a weathered post. “Thank God.”
“Against such dire circumstance, our being alerted ’twas indeed a blessing. Under the Grand Master’s orders, prior to the day of the arrests, many Templars boarded our galleys and escaped. “With regret”—his throat tightened against the horrific truth—“many within the Brotherhood remained ignorant of the king’s treachery until their arrest.”
Horror darkened her gaze. “Why didna the Grand Master warn all of the Templars? A fighting force of such caliber, you could have confronted the king, challenged his lies?”
“With the Brotherhood scattered in several countries, we didna have the luxury of time to contact everyone, much less organize a formal denial,” Thomas explained. “Even if we exposed the truth, with the growing dissent of those jealous of the favor given to the Templars over the years, we wouldna have found enough support to confront France’s sovereign.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes.
“Our first priority,” he pushed on, his voice rough, “was to ensure that the secrets the Knights Templar guard were kept safe. However difficult the decision to depart without alerting all within the Brotherhood, each knight chosen to leave understood the dire reasoning behind the Grand Master’s decision.”
Face pale, she frowned. “What is so valuable that weighs higher than the sacrifice of their lives?”
“I canna tell you,” he said, haunted by the horror that due to the false charges, many men he’d fought alongside were now imprisoned, tortured, or dead. “Know this, we achieved our mission.”
“And the cargo?”
Pride filled him at memories of their seizure of Avalon Castle, and how they’d hidden the goods they’d sailed away with in the secret catacombs beneath. “Where it will never be found.”
On a shaky breath she stared at him. The defiance of moments before erased beneath her eyes haunted with grief. “I am so sorry. The Brotherhood are revered, known for their fierceness in battle, their honesty, and loyalty.”
He gave a shaky nod. “I-I thank you.”
“And,” she continued, a waver in her voice, “your being a Templar explains much. Your confidence, skill with weapons, knowledge of tactics, detailed use of herbs, and more.” She exhaled. “I should have guessed. You are unlike any man I have ever come across. When we first met and I placed that arrow but a hand’s breath before your face, I expected you to jump back or yell. The most common reaction. Instead your face tightened with anger.”
That moment lay etched in his mind. “I was upset at myself for being lost in my thoughts instead of keeping alert. If I had been paying attention, never would you have had a chance for a shot.”
The edge of her mouth crooked a degree. “I did mention you were confident, and may I add, a wee bit arrogant.”
At the subtle teasing, Thomas’s body relaxed. “’Tis nae arrogance, but confidence in my abilities.”
“I can see that, now. Still, I canna understand…” A wash of red swept up her cheeks.
“What?” he asked, confused by her embarrassment.
“’Tis only that I believed Templars were forbidden to…” Her blush deepened.
Understanding dawned, and his body tightened. “Be intimate?”
“Aye.”
“They are, or rather were.” Memories of that turbulent time swept him. “Before the Templars fled France, the Grand Master secretly dissolved the Order, encouraged us to marry, and blend in with the locals.” He paused. “Now you know why I made you swear to tell no one before I explained.”
“I do, but it doesna explain why you kissed me or…”
How they’d almost made love. Heat stormed his veins. She’d felt magnificent beneath him, her seductive taste still potent in his mind. Thomas glanced toward the closed door, the earlier needed privacy shifting onto dangerous, intimate ground.
His father’s advice for Thomas to tell Alesone how he felt about her echoed in his mind. If he admitted that he cared, things between them would change. He silently swore. As if their intimacy to this point hadna done that? In the end he decided for a mixture of the two.
“When I sailed from France,” Thomas said, choosing his words with caution, “never did I believe that I would find a woman who would intrigue me, or make me care. Then I met you. Between my loyalty to the Templars, my fealty to King Robert, and the complications of my family, I was torn if ’twas fair to allow you into my life.” He exhaled. “Yet with you, ’twould seem that I had nay choice.”
Hope flickered on her face, and he damned that he couldna give her the words she wanted to hear. “I lead men into combat without hesitation, remain calm in the midst of battle. That I am unsure how to proceed with how deeply I care for you leaves me baffled.” Tenderness filled Alesone as Thomas struggled to explain, the strain in his voice betraying the difficulty of his admission. As a Templar, a fierce warrior who defied the odds in many a battle, to flounder with his growing feelings for her, or how she fit into his life, left him frustrated.
At himself.
Never her.
The need for him she’d smothered beneath her upset seeped through, erasing the anger she’d clung to, leaving only warmth. With her mind clear, she stared at the man who from the start had challenged her, dared push her as no man before, and broken down her every barrier.
Heart pounding she stilled, the realization of the moment leaving her stunned, and explained why when he’d pushed her away earlier, it’d hurt, horribly so.
God in heaven, she loved him!
The euphoria of the moment faded beneath reality. Though he admitted that he cared for her, ’twas a far cry from wanting her in his life.
After being treated as an outcast by her father and the men in the surrounding village during her youth, she’d vowed to never allow a man such power over her. Except against her every barrier, he’d claimed her heart.
A fact he didna know.
“Now what?” she asked.
Desire darkened his gaze, and he skimmed his thumb along the curve of her cheek and then across her lower lip. “Though I have nay right to ask, I would be wanting to kiss you.”
Tingles ignited over her skin. Her body tensed, aching to hear his words of love.
For now naught but a wish.
His admission of moments before exposed the difficulty of his transition from a knight serving God to a warrior free to a life beyond the strict rule of a Templar.
Would he ever come to love her? Was she foolish to nurture such a dream? Dare she give him the intimacy she desperately wanted?
And if she walked away, never would she know what they could have had. However terrifying to yield to her desire, Alesone found ’twas more frightening to walk away and never know.
Chapter Sixteen
“Aye, ’twould be your kiss that I am wanting,” Alesone said as she leaned her body against Thomas’s muscled length, aware if he choose he could haul her against him and take what he wanted, but this close, she didna feel fear, but desire. “And more.”
His mouth hovered over hers, his breath skimming across her lips, soft, teasing as if a dare. On a groan, he kissed the edge of her mouth, along the curve of her
jaw, and then returned to skim his lips over hers.
“I thought,” she rasped as heat burned inside, “you were going to kiss me.”
“I,” he whispered as his tongue worked miracles against her skin, “am working my way toward that.”
“I…” she moaned as his mouth pressed intimately over hers. With mind-teasing slowness he deepened the kiss until her thoughts blurred and her every breath tasted of him. Unsure at which moment they’d moved, she found her back against the door and their bodies flush. Heat pouring through her, she skimmed her hands along his back, over his arms, desperate to feel every inch the man who against her every caution had stolen her heart.
On a rough breath, he lifted his head. Green eyes churning with hunger burned into hers. “I want you.”
Alesone pressed her body brazenly against his hardness. “I want you as well.”
On a rough hiss, he released the ties of her garb. Whisper soft, her gown tumbled to the bed of straw. Air crisp with the morning caressed her nakedness, and her body tingled beneath his sensual appraisal.
His heated gaze holding hers, he stroked his thumb across her nipple, then cupped her breast.
“Thomas,” she gasped as his hands slid lower, touching, teasing her until beneath the onslaught, her knees threated to buckled. Without warning he took the kiss deeper.
His body shuddered and he lifted his head, his breathing coming in sharp rasps. “You are beautiful.”
The lines of strain on his face assured her he was holding back, his focus on her. And if he thought to steady himself when she was but a blur of need, he was wrong. Alesone stroked his hardness.
On a sharp hiss, he caught her hand.
“I—”
“Dinna move.” Eyes raw with desire held hers as his mouth worked with his hands as he touched her, tasted her skin until her body ached for him.
“Thom—”
His tongue swept across her most private place, and his name dissolved in to a whispered moan. He stroked her again, explored until sensation swelled inside until it felt as if she would explode. “Thomas,” Alesone gasped, “I canna—”
He plunged deep.
A wave swept over her, then another. She cried out.
He stood and cradled her against him as her release rolled through her with destructive force, but it wasna enough. She wanted him, needed him more than she’d ever needed anything in her life. If their intimacy damned her, she didna care. “Thomas,” she whispered, “make love with me.”
Her taste burning in his mind, Thomas fought to steady himself, the softness of her body threatening to smother his every rational thought.
Bedamned, he had intended on leaving her untouched. In but weeks he would stand alongside their king to lay siege against her father. ’Twas reckless to entertain such thoughts, except with her naked against him and the desperation of her throaty plea, his last defense shattered.
Aye, they would make love, but with her wrapped in firelight, and her eyes illuminated within the soft glow as their bodies merged.
“I want you,” he forced out, “but I willna take you in a stable. The first time, our first time, I want you embraced in candlelight and without risk of our being disturbed.”
At the reminder of where they were, her face paled. “I forgot where we were.”
“High praise indeed. A state I hope to achieve this night. For what I wish to do to you, we will need each hour of the night.” A blush reddened her cheeks, one he liked putting there. On an unsteady breath, he started to draw away, but she caught his hand.
“Thomas, your wanting me is enough.”
At the rough hope in her voice he yearned to admit that he more than wanted her, but needed her with his every breath. “You deserve a man who cares for you without question,” he forced out, “one you can depend on.”
Her eyes softened. “I can depend on you.”
“As a warrior, a protector, aye,” he said, refusing to linger on her belief in him. ’Twas a time for truth, nae emotions that in the end would leave her devastated. “I have many demons yet to overcome, including the reason I had intended to keep my distance from you.”
“I know.” Somber eyes held his as she covered his mouth with her own, slow with need, soft with understanding, and against his every intent, he hauled her against him, running his fingers over her flesh, his body aching as he skimmed across her slick folds quivering from her release.
Through sheer will he scooped the wisp of emerald silk from the hay and slid the gown over her shoulders, his fingers lingering on her every curve.
After securing her last tie, she lifted her eyes to his, the shyness there leaving him surprised.
He wrapped the errant blond lock that’d tumbled free around his finger, tugged her close. “How can you,” he said pressing a soft kiss upon her mouth, “be shy after what we have done.”
Red slashed her cheeks. “’Tis unseemly to speak so bluntly.”
Enjoying that he’d thrown her off balance, he smiled. “I will do more than speak of it this evening, that I promise.”
Her blush deepened. “I would be liking that.”
His groin tightened, and he pressed his length intimately against her softness. “Once everyone has retired, I will come to your chamber.”
“’Tis indecent,” she said, excitement filling her voice.
“Aye,” he said with a wink. With one last hard kiss, and after he’d assured her that she didna look properly ravished, they departed, his mind anxious for the night.
* * *
The day passed as if dragged by a stone, and with the ring of each bell announcing the next hour, Thomas willed the time to hurry. He worked his injured arm to loosen the taut muscles, grimaced at the shot of pain. Soon he and Alesone would depart Dair Castle.
In the solar he shifted in the chair before the hearth, returned his attention to his father, too aware of his brother, who sat at his side. Though Donnchadh had offered forgiveness, much still stood between them.
“Thomas, what of King Robert’s intent?” his father asked.
“He is leading his forces through the Garioch and deep into loyal Comyn territory,” Thomas replied.
The duke nodded.
“And Comyn?” Thomas asked.
“With the stakes so high, I believe he will detour around the king’s men and attack Dair Castle to capture his daughter in order to finalize the agreement with King Philip.”
His father grimaced. “With Bruce’s forces closing in on Inverurie, I didna think he would take the risk.”
“My thoughts as well,” his brother said.
A solid rap sounded at the door.
“Enter,” the duke called.
Wood scraped, then Sir John MacLairish limped inside, fading bruises still marring his face.
Thomas surged to his feet. “What is wrong?”
“On my way over here,” John said, “I came across the Bruce’s man critically wounded.”
“What!” the duke boomed as he and Donnchadh stood.
John bowed and then held out a missive secured with the king’s seal. “Your Grace, I carried the king’s man to Dair Castle, and he bade me deliver this to you.”
Eyes hard, the duke broke the imprinted wax round, unrolled the parchment, and skimmed the penned lines.
On edge, Thomas met his brother’s worried gaze, then turned to his father.
The duke slammed his fist against the table. “A sword’s wrath! Robert Bruce’s health is declining with the auld sickness. He has delayed attacking Comyn and has rerouted his forces to Slioch until he is well enough to fight.”
Donnchadh muttered a curse. “Nay doubt Comyn will be informed of both the king’s shift in plans along with his ill health.”
“Aye.” Thomas agreed. “News that will have Comyn increasing the number of men that he brings to attack Dair Castle.”
“Extra guards will be placed on the wall walk, and everyone within t
he castle is to prepare for an assault.” The duke’s eyes narrowed. “Any questionable activity will be immediately reported to me.”
Donnchadh stepped forward. “I will pass along your command.”
The duke nodded.
Though pleased with how his family was coming together, Thomas damned that ’twas because of his arrival, one that placed those within Dair Castle in jeopardy. However much he didna wish to raise the point, it needed to be said. “With your fealty sworn to King Robert, neither will Comyn be coming for his daughter alone.”
His father scoffed. “I wouldna think much of Comyn if he didna confront me. Except any loyalty that I had to him is long since dead. ’Tis a grievous day when a Scotsman is in bed with the English, and betrays their country struggling to unite.”
“Aye,” Donnchadh agreed. “Beneath his bluster of aiding Scotland, King Edward wanted naught but to claim Scotland for his own.”
“Regardless of his reasons,” the duke said, “when Comyn arrives, we will be ready.”
However prepared for the upcoming battle, Comyn’s force was significant. If only they had the backing of the Knights Templar. Thomas stilled. But they did! “Father, several of my men travel with the Bruce. We must send word, explain the circumstance to our king. Given the gravity of the situation, I am confident he will honor my request to have my men, along with a contingent of his knight’s, ride to Dair Castle.”
The duke nodded, turned toward Thomas’s friend. “How long did the rider say he had traveled after he was wounded?”
“A day, Your Grace,” John replied. “He believes he is at least two days ahead of the contingent, mayhap more.”
The noble muttered a curse. “Which leaves us little time.”
“But enough.” Terror shot through him at the thought of losing Alesone, but he refused to give up hope. “We can hold them off until the Bruce’s forces arrives.” They had nay other choice.