Lord Gawain's Forbidden Mistress

by Carol Townend

  The scent of her hair—familiar, womanly, with that tang of ambergris—evoked memories of large dark eyes smiling into his, of warm kisses and soft skin. Of...

  ‘It’s nothing, Gawain. I... Oh!’ She caught hold of his shoulder and he found himself fixated by her mouth. Those lips...he could remember exactly how soft they had felt. How warm...

  However, she wasn’t looking for a kiss. She’d seen the cord of her pendant wrapped around his fist.

  ‘You found it!’ Her face lit up. ‘I am so glad. I would hate to lose it.’

  Easing back, Gawain held out his wrist so she could take it from him.

  ‘I dropped it hoping that Baderon might see it,’ she said.

  ‘I saw it glinting in the sun. The cord is broken. Allow me to retie it.’

  Fixing the pendant round her neck, he found himself closing his eyes as once again that tantalising scent—Elise—wound through his senses.

  She squeezed his hand and a small thrill shot through him. ‘Thank you, Gawain. This has great value to me.’

  ‘A gift from a lover?’ He kept his voice light.

  ‘Gawain, contrary to what you seem to believe I don’t have legions of lovers. You are the only man—’

  His eyebrows shot up. ‘I surely wasn’t your first?’

  ‘No, no. There has been another lover.’

  ‘But there were no babies with him.’ Oddly, that pleased him.

  ‘The herbs worked well with him, which is why I assumed that there would be no issue after we...after we...’ Blushing, she trailed off. ‘Gawain, I want you to know that I enjoyed our time together. You have given me so much. Pearl is the greatest gift.’

  He gave her a stern look. ‘Pearl might have lost her mother today.’

  She touched his sleeve. ‘Thankfully she didn’t. Gawain, I should like to see André.’

  She made as if to get up, but Gawain caught her hand and gently, firmly, pushed her back against the pillows. He laced his fingers with hers and found himself staring at her hand. It was so small. And she was not wearing any rings. He bit back a smile.

  ‘André is being taken care of. You may see him later. You must rest first.’ His eyes held hers. ‘You’re not wearing Sir Olier’s ring.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Don’t you like him?’ Gawain had no right to ask, but the question was out before he could stop it.

  In the back of Gawain’s mind a reckless plan was forming. If he saw it to fruition it would mean going back on his word. It would mean him turning his back on one duty to honour another. He would have to run the gauntlet of his aunt’s disfavour; the King would have every right to question his honour; and Lady Rowena—Gawain wasn’t sure how she would react. Before he took the first step, he needed to know Elise’s mind.

  She gave him one of her quiet smiles. ‘Sir Olier has always been most generous, but it might mislead him if I were to wear his ring.’

  ‘He has offered you marriage.’ The idea of Elise marrying Sir Olier was so repellent it didn’t bear thinking about, but Gawain had to know what she thought. Watching her like a hawk, he added, ‘Many people would consider it a good match.’

  ‘It would be if Sir Olier was...’ She paused, as though choosing her words carefully. ‘I cannot marry him.’

  Gawain felt a smile begin to break and fought to keep his expression neutral. ‘He would provide you with security.’

  She stared, looking at him as though he had started to speak in tongues. ‘Me? Marry Sir Olier? Gawain, how can you—a count—suggest such a thing? The disparity between Sir Olier and myself is far too great. He is a knight whilst I am the illegitimate daughter of a troubadour.’

  Gawain waved his hand, dispensing with her parentage and illegitimacy. ‘Sir Olier doesn’t see any obstacles.’

  Breaking eye contact, she looked towards the window. ‘I thought at first Sir Olier was not serious in his suit.’ She drew in a breath and her breasts lifted. Gawain tried not to notice. ‘Though of late he has renewed his suit so often and with such vigour that I am coming to believe he sees no barrier between us.’

  ‘The man wants you. You are a very beautiful woman.’

  She gave another sigh. ‘Vivienne said he meant it. I didn’t believe her.’

  ‘Believe it. He wants to marry you. Elise, if he sees no barrier and you want him, there is no barrier.’

  She blinked. ‘That is truly your belief?’

  He squeezed her hand. ‘Can you doubt it?’

  Her eyes were shadowed as she gazed thoughtfully at him, and he wondered what she was seeing. A man who loved her and would do what he could to win her? Or a man who belonged in her past? He burned to know.

  ‘Elise, it would make me happy if you understood that I have your interests at heart.’

  She simply looked at him. Gawain’s heart sank. If only he could open his heart to her. He ached to tell her what was in his mind—he wanted her and Pearl in his life for all time. He wanted their relationship to be legitimate. He didn’t want a shady affair. Yes, he had duties to his liege and his aunt. He also had duties to Elise and his daughter. And, provided Elise was willing, he would rank his duty to Elise and Pearl over his other duties. Unfortunately, until he was free he couldn’t discuss this openly with her.

  ‘Do you want Sir Olier?’ He couldn’t breathe as he waited for her reply.

  She tipped her head to one side and the petals of the enamel flower at her throat glinted as she moved. ‘Why do you ask?’

  Gawain felt his skin scorch. He hated that he wasn’t free to give her a full answer. He decided to take a different approach. Briefly, he touched her pendant. ‘Who gave you this?’

  ‘No lover, I assure you. It was a gift from my father to my mother. When she married she gave it to me. She didn’t want to cause trouble with Sir Corentin.’

  ‘Sir Corentin was her husband?

  A nod.

  ‘When did your mother marry? Was this after your father’s death?’

  ‘No, no.’ She gave a look he could only describe as wary. ‘Mother left Father long before that.’

  He waited.

  ‘Ronan Chantier wasn’t an easy man to live with.’

  She bent her head, ostensibly to adjust the pendant. She was avoiding his eyes. Her cheeks were pink. With embarrassment? Shame? Gawain opened his mouth to tell her that she need never feel shame with him when her head came up.

  She fiddled with the daisy. ‘Father gave Mother this in the early days, when they were courting.’ She shrugged. ‘After that he thought only of his next performance. Mother told me once that she had never truly had his heart, that no one could truly touch him and that he wasn’t fit to be a father. That was why she left him. She found a knight and married him.’

  ‘And now? Is your mother still living?’

  ‘I am not certain. When she married, Mother made it clear that Morwenna and I were not to contact her.’

  Gawain felt his jaw drop. ‘You never saw your mother after her marriage?’

  She was staring at the wall, turning the daisy round and round between finger and thumb. Her head shook and a tress of hair fell across her breast. ‘Shortly before Mother’s marriage we were taken to the convent. That was when she gave me this pendant. She said Sir Corentin might be upset to see a reminder of her former life.’

  He squeezed her hand. He didn’t know what to say. Here was yet another side of her that she’d kept from him. Sad to say, the more time he spent with her, the more he was coming to see that that past winter when her beauty had ensnared him, he’d scarcely known her. ‘You are a brave woman,’ he murmured. Elise had had a terrible start in life and yet she was managing to make a success of it.

  ‘Brave? Me? You must have been at the wine, my lord. Sometimes I dream my courage fails just before a perform
ance. If I couldn’t sing, I don’t know what would happen to us. I fear many things. In the main I worry about Pearl.’ She gave a strained laugh. ‘You have helped me enormously, my lord. Your gift of the manor is more security than I ever hoped to achieve. I can’t thank you enough.’

  Gawain’s fingers curled round hers. ‘I would give you more than that, if I could.’

  She tilted her head and a tress of dark hair fell over her breast. ‘I don’t understand. Speak plainly, Gawain. You are about to be married—are you asking me to be your mistress?’

  Dark eyes watched him and not for the first time, Gawain wished he could read the thoughts behind them. If only he could ask for her hand. However, until he had freed himself from his commitments, that wasn’t possible. He must content himself with giving her hints and hope that she would understand what he was trying to say. As a man of honour he could do no more. ‘I would offer you the world. Mon Dieu, Elise, last year I was free. If you hadn’t walked away without a backward look, I would never have opened marriage negotiations with Count Faramus. These things are not easy to unravel.’

  Reaching up, he ran his fingertips down that shining strand of hair. His touch was light, familiar—it was the touch of a lover. He shouldn’t touch her in this way until their path was clear. The trouble was he couldn’t help it.

  Her breathing faltered and the enamel daisy trembled on her breast. The scent of ambergris was muddling his mind. His gaze settled on her mouth. ‘So pretty,’ he murmured. How was it that the longer he spent in her company the harder it was to remember that he must do the right thing? ‘If...’ He swallowed. Mon Dieu, she had moistened her lips and he was transfixed. ‘Elise, if I were free, what would you do?’

  Carefully, she placed the palm of her hand against his cheek. ‘Lord Gawain, do you truly not know?’

  He was baffled by her use of his title when they were sitting together so intimately. Was it her way of holding him at bay? A small finger ran down his nose, and he looked blankly at her. She used his title, yet a heartbeat later she was touching him as though they were lovers again. What did she want of him? A pulse of desire, deep in his veins, urged him on. He shifted and pulled her fully into his arms. ‘Elise.’ He nuzzled her neck, closing his eyes as he inhaled her. Elise. ‘Beloved.’

  Her hand slid round his neck and into his hair, sifting it so his scalp warmed. Whatever else he did, he must not kiss her. If he kissed her, he’d be lost. However, he hadn’t bargained for those delicate fingers to tighten in his hair so as to align his mouth with hers.

  ‘One kiss, Gawain,’ she murmured. ‘Just one.’

  Their lips met, tentatively. Somehow he kept it innocent. He was hoping that if he didn’t act as though they had been lovers, if he didn’t act as though there was nothing that he would rather do than join with her, his body would forget it. She gave a slight murmur of frustration and then she was leaning closer, pressing her breasts fully against his chest. ‘Properly, Gawain.’

  Gawain groaned. She hadn’t used his title. Just his name. He caught her fully in his arms and deepened the kiss. Briefly, he drew back. ‘Lord, Elise, this feels so good.’

  His body wasn’t doing what it was supposed to be doing and Elise wasn’t helping. His hand slid to cover a breast through the fabric of her gown. She moaned and pressed her body to his. She was kissing his collarbone. She dragged his tunic and chainse clear of his belt. Delicate fingertips trailed fire along his back.

  ‘Elise.’ His voice was hoarse. He was actually panting, hot and aching with need and frustration. He had yearned for her for too long. His tunic and chainse were dragged off him, by him or by her he could not say. His mind was a mind divided. He had to have her. He couldn’t have her. He wasn’t sure what to do about Lady Rowena, never mind the assurances he had given to Count Faramus and the King. And add to that the fact that Elise had given birth recently—Gawain wasn’t certain how soon a woman might be approached after childbirth.

  With a shaky laugh she fell back against the pillows. He followed, groaning. This was torment. This was delight. He must be careful. Much as he wanted her, he would simply caress her. Her hands were busy smoothing the skin of his back and chest, making him throb and ache. He pressed against her thigh and she stroked his cheek. The slight smile as she touched his nose almost undid him.

  ‘I adore your nose.’

  She plunged her fingers deep into his hair. The flower at her breast trembled.

  They kissed and her moan was an echo of his. Holding her head, he looked into her eyes as she shifted beneath him. Her breasts were straining against the fabric of her gown. They were distracting. Tempting. Her bodice was laced from neck to waist and fastened with a bow. Gawain worked at the lacings to undo her gown and inch by inch, more glorious womanly curves were revealed. His mouth went dry. She arched up, nibbling his ear. Her breath was warm and flurried as he succeeded in teasing the fabric apart and covered a breast with his palm. Her breath caught in a sound that was halfway to a sob. He caressed first one breast, then the other. This was torment and he wanted more. The voice in the back of his mind, the voice that urged caution, was becoming very faint.

  ‘So womanly,’ he murmured, cupping a breast. Her eyes shone into his. ‘So beautiful.’

  Somehow, the coverlet was gone. She lay half under him. Their legs were entwined and she was rubbing her foot up and down his calf. Her hands were gripping his buttocks, holding him to her, scattering what was left of his wits to the four winds. He was nothing but want.

  Drawing up her gown, he sighed his pleasure against her neck. His fingertips skimmed over the warm skin of her thigh. Up to her waist. He burned with need.

  She stopped caressing his buttocks. She was wrestling with his hose, stroking him through the fabric. He sucked in a breath.

  ‘Have a care, beloved.’

  Soft brown eyes smiled into his.

  ‘Gawain,’ she said, huskily. And again, ‘Gawain.’

  He pressed his lips to her cheek, her temple, her brow—dotting her face with kisses. He was moving down towards her breasts when a change of atmosphere gave him pause. Her body was no longer soft and pliant beneath him, but stiff and unyielding.

  Elise tugged on a lock of sun-streaked hair. ‘Gawain?’

  ‘Beloved?’

  ‘This is wrong.’

  Gawain stared blankly at her. Dazed with want, his mind refused to accept what she was saying.

  ‘We shouldn’t be doing this. Gawain, I am sorry. I don’t know what came over me.’ Easing out from under him, she sat up and bent her head over the lacing of her gown.

  Gawain grimaced. He was throbbing with need and rather surprised at the speed with which he had lost himself. ‘You are right, of course. My apologies.’ Hauling himself off the bed, he padded uncomfortably over to the ale jug. He heard the creaking on the landing at the same time as Elise.

  Wide brown eyes met his. ‘Gawain, the door! Someone’s outside.’

  The latch clicked and Lady Rowena de Sainte-Colombe walked in.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Elise blinked. She wanted to die. Lady Rowena!

  Gawain’s fiancée froze on the threshold with her jaw open. Slowly she closed her mouth and stepped into the bedchamber. Elise heard herself groan.

  Lady Rowena ignored her. She looked at her betrothed, a gold cross glinting at her neck. ‘Good morning, my lord,’ she said, calmly. ‘I heard that your friends had suffered with an accident and wondered if I might be of assistance.’

  Hot-faced, Elise tied the bow on her lacing. She had never felt so small. What could she say? I am sorry, my lady, this isn’t what it seems.

  Except it was. It was exactly as it seemed. Elise hadn’t been able to keep her hands off Gawain last winter. She had returned to Troyes to find him betrothed to the woman standing near the door with that cool expression on
her face and nothing had changed. She still couldn’t keep her hands off him. Heavens, what had she done?

  It struck her that Lady Rowena might appear calm, but she was rather too pointedly avoiding looking at Gawain’s naked chest. It was such a beautiful chest. Wasn’t she the least bit curious to see his body?

  Guilt went through her like a lance. What have I done?

  Elise swung off the bed, conscious that Lady Rowena’s eyes hadn’t flickered in her direction. It was almost as though she couldn’t see her. Lady Rowena didn’t want to see her. She was pretending Elise was not there.

  Thank goodness she and Gawain had come to their senses. Otherwise Lady Rowena would be staring at them in flagrante. Briefly, Elise closed her eyes. Gawain must want to kill me. She bit her lip. This was her fault. She’d asked him to kiss her. He would surely hate her.

  Gawain set down his ale and reached for his chainse. Elise found herself cursing the feelings he engendered in her. She of all people should know better. She did know better, but once again she had allowed herself to be carried away. Only this time it was worse, because last year he had not been betrothed. He shot her a dark look and went to take Lady Rowena’s hand.

  Elise struggled to recall what it was that he had said that had prompted her to fall into his arms so easily. ‘I would give you the world if I could.’ She looked at his broad back, aching to wind her arms about him, and wondered. Had that been a lie? It could hardly be otherwise, particularly since he hadn’t actually said his marriage with Lady Rowena wasn’t going ahead. No, he hadn’t said that.

  She massaged her temple. Her head was throbbing and it wasn’t simply due to the knock on her head. ‘These things aren’t easy to unravel.’ He’d said that too.

  He’d been warning her. And she, blinded by love and want, hadn’t understood what he’d been saying. Gawain and Elise had no future. Yes, he’d given her a manor, but that was the end of it.