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A Knight and White Satin

Page 32

by Jackie Ivie


  They’d brought in his son then, wearing a familiar-looking gown his wife had lovingly sewn. The woman carrying him walked right over to where Payton was, and placed the babe in Payton’s hands.

  He was in luck he was sitting. Everyone was. Pride and exhilaration slammed into him so hard, his heart thudded with the reaction, his hands shook and grew wet with the sweat, and his legs had the resilience of bog weed. The lad was barely a week old, but he had very black hair and very blue eyes, and was very curious and alert, and absolutely perfect.

  As was the look in Dallis’s eyes when he’d handed the lad over to the priest for the blessing and naming and turned back to her. She was weeping joy while he held her and shook with the same emotion. But he kept any tears back behind his lids, where they belonged. That way his voice was steady and strong when he gave them the bairn’s name, although he’d had to clear his throat.

  “James David Alexander Dunn-Fadden.”

  There was a sigh of approval throughout the chapel, and such a feeling of peace. It wasn’t shaken until King James had requested yet another audience with them.

  Her hand was inching again. Payton grabbed at it, and lifted it to his lips, but this time he wasn’t kissing her rings. He’d turned her hand over and was tonguing her palm…going to her wrist…enjoying the goose bumps that were strong enough to tease at his tongue.

  “Payton Dunn-Fadden.”

  It was Redmond’s voice again. Payton lifted his head, looked deeply into his wife’s eyes, and then turned to his man again.

  “What now?”

  “The king is still speaking.”

  Redmond gestured with his fork. It was true. King James was still pontificating and droning, and making more than one courtier yawn from behind a hand, or a fan. Copying proved impossible to resist, and Payton tipped his head backward for his own yawn. That created titters and crowd noise that showed even here, in the king’s house, his followers hounded him.

  His eyes burned, and then he remembered. He’d been sleepless last night. All night. And most of the prior one. Working his muscles and mind into a sharpness he’d need. It was totally appreciated, however, so it must have been worth it. He knew that from all the caressing and finger-touches, and cooing she’d done when he’d bathed, and she’d supervised. And he’d tried to keep from her, due to her fragile state.

  Her hand was back atop his leg. Just above the knee, squeezing on either side of his leg with her thumb on one side and fingers on the other. Payton sucked in on his cheeks, looked directly at the king, and slid just a slight bit lower on their bench.

  Beside him he heard her giggle again. God, how he loved that sound! He was just about to tell her of it, when Redmond spoke again.

  “We leave at first light.”

  “I ken as much,” Payton replied.

  “’Tis best. You dinna’ wish to stay about here any longer than needed.”

  Payton nodded, concentrated on not showing how she’d moved her hand to the inside of his thigh, to wrap about his leg while continuing her lascivious squeezing.

  “The king already mentioned how he has tired of paying for our hospitality. And the earl of Dunrobin. We are to leave and na’ come back until summoned. And only if summoned.”

  Payton nodded again, and eased his legs open, making room for slender fingers that were trailing up his leg, well past midthigh.

  “He’s sending supplies, foodstuffs, mounting all your clansmen, and providing an escort of his own men for protecting the wagon of gold he says you’ve earned…but heaven alone knows how.”

  “’Tis probably issued under the ‘Good of Scotland’ portion of his latest decree,” Payton replied.

  The last word came out squeaked, sounding a bit like Alan when he was excited. Payton couldn’t help it. Dallis had reached her objective, and flicked a finger, making him not only jump slightly, but it altered his voice. Payton concentrated on looking at the king, and tilted his head toward Redmond, as if awaiting more grand, wise words.

  “With an escort like that, we will na’ reach your home for nigh on a fortnight. Perhaps longer.”

  Payton didn’t even nod. He couldn’t reply to anything. He was afraid to. He was holding a breath and easing himself farther down on the bench, putting weight and heft and heat where she could access it easier, run her hands along it better, squeezing…

  “You two may wish to cease that for a bit. I believe you’ll be standing again. Soon.”

  Dallis’s hand stopped. Payton turned toward his man. “Cease what?” he asked.

  “The king’s men are na’ for your use.”

  “What men?” Payton asked.

  Dallis was giggling again, and with the addition of where her hand was locked, made it impossible to keep track of Redmond’s continual words.

  “The escort! They’re to turn about the moment we arrive.”

  “I ken,” Payton replied. “The king wants them back. They’re to escort his stonemasons.”

  “Aye. King James got word that the restoration to your entire castle was completed more than a month past. He is na’ pleased.”

  “He sounded pleased.”

  “With the results…aye. According to his messengers, the castle is better than it was a-fore we decided to take a ram to it.”

  “I doona’ ken…what you mean, then.” Payton said it evenly, looking at Redmond the entire time, but he had no way to stop the sensation she was stirring with the solid stroke she’d just done. And repeated. He was doing his best, but his sporran was lifting, and catching the light from how much silver it contained as it rose.

  “The king angers at your sire stealing the stonemason’s skill. For his own use. On his keep. Dinna’ you hear that?”

  “My da would na’ do such,” Payton replied.

  “Alexander Dunn-Fadden would steal the pillow from beneath your head, if he wanted it, and even if you were sleeping atop it. ’Tis what Dunn-Faddens were known for. Reaving. Hiding. Thieving.”

  “A-fore me,” Payton replied.

  Redmond nodded solemnly, and then smiled. “Aye. A-fore you. They will na’ say the same of Dunn-Fadden clan e’ermore.”

  “Payton Alexander Dunn-Fadden!”

  The king must have announced it, because the criers were shouting his name all along the balcony railings of the room. Payton’s eyes went wide.

  “You’ll need stand now, My Laird…and please remember that I did warn you.”

  Redmond was laughing as he said it. The wretch wasn’t just smiling. He was out-right laughing.

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2010 by Jacquelyn Ivie Goforth

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4201-2022-6

 

 

 


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