The Conquest

by Julia Templeton

  “I think I know it already. He will not break his pledge to his liege.”

  Elspeth’s fingers curled around the tub’s edge. “Once ye leave here and arrive at Almeron, all your chances will be lost. If ye like him, then let him know it. If he does not respond, then flirt with another man to see if it gains his attention. If ye do this and he reacts, then ye know he cares more than he will ever admit. Just be careful and do not let your father see ye do this, or Deirdre for that matter.”

  “What if Adelstan doesn’t respond? Perhaps he told me the truth. Perhaps he truly regretted kissing me.”

  Before she could argue further Elspeth lifted a pitcher of water and poured it over Rhiannon’s head.

  Running her hands down her face, Rhiannon wiped the water from her eyes. “Ye could have given me fair warning.”

  “Ye need to listen to me, love. Quit sulking and stand up, brush yourself off, so to speak, and go on as though ye never kissed him. Make him wonder where your thoughts are, and if he brings up the kiss again, tell him ye were caught up in the moment, scared of leaving Scotland and everything ye know and love.”

  “He will not believe me.”

  “Of course he will. If ye say it as though ye mean it.”

  Elspeth set a drying cloth on a rack before the fire, and shrugged into a cloak. “Now quit worrying about what is done. Tomorrow is another day, and all will be well.”

  “Where are ye going?”

  Elspeth smiled softly. “Antony asked to meet me in the stables.”

  “The stables? How romantic,” Rhiannon said, trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

  “Believe it or not, there are few private places within the walls of Castle MacKay.”

  “Have a lovely time,” Rhiannon said before Elspeth slipped out the door.

  She eased down into the water, wondering where Adelstan was right this minute. Closing her eyes, she envisioned him as he’d been earlier today. He was so strong, so handsome, so appealing to her in every way. Indeed, she could not think of a single fault or one thing she would change about him.

  Even now her body burned for him. She touched her lips, remembering the feel of his mouth against hers, the stroke of his tongue, the velvety soft texture.

  Looking over her shoulder, to be sure she was indeed alone, Rhiannon’s hand slipped beneath the water’s surface, resting on her breast, imagining it was Adelstan’s hand.

  Fingers splayed, she cupped the mound, weighing it in her hand before plucking at the rigid peak of a nipple. Gasping at the wonderful sensations that rushed through her body, Rhiannon touched herself in her most intimate place with her other hand and ran a finger over a hard little nub of flesh that had her shifting her hips.

  Elspeth had been right. Touching herself could be pleasurable.

  Leaning her head back against the tub’s edge and closing her eyes, she continued to explore, envisioning Adelstan’s strong, yet gentle, long-fingered hands touching her.

  Her heart rate increased by the second as her fingers played over her tiny button and nipple. She arched her hips as a wonderful sensation lifted her higher and higher.

  Tendrils of heat pooled in her groin, and then it happened; her sex throbbed against her fingers, and she moaned low in her throat as she experienced her first orgasm. She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

  Long moments later she opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath. Her hands fell away from her body and she washed them, as though that would wash away what she had just done.

  She felt a sudden rush of embarrassment, but it soon fled as realization dawned on her. Soon she would be married and her husband would touch her just like that. He could do what he wanted, when he wanted, and there was nothing she could do or say to stop him.

  Rhiannon had once heard that if a married woman took a man other than her husband to her bed, then her husband would have cause to kill her.

  And yet, even knowing that threat, Rhiannon still wanted Adelstan, and having been awakened sexually, she would stop at nothing to have him.

  * * *

  Adelstan paced the great hall. His men had finished eating long ago. A few played cards or chess, or conversed while servants scattered about, picking up empty trenchers, bowls, and tankards.

  Machara, the comely servant who had served him last evening, caught his eye from across the room. She had been watching him under lowered lids all evening, and though he found her attractive, he could not get Rhiannon or the kiss they had shared this morning from his thoughts.

  It did not help that he waited expectantly for her to appear in the great hall. God’s breath, but he felt like a boy of eight, waiting for his first crush to appear.

  When Rhiannon had not arrived for supper he had been disappointed and wondered if it was his rejection that had kept her from the hall. Elspeth, her maid, had appeared late during the meal, but after speaking to a handsome young man at a lower table, she had sauntered off before he could have a word with her.

  Adelstan had been compelled to follow her out, to ask of her mistress’s health, but he could not without risking suspicion. After all, he had been sitting beside Laird MacKay, who had not mentioned his daughter once all night.

  Jorden came up from behind him and clapped him on the back. “In case you have not taken note of the obvious, a certain servant has been lingering in yonder doorway waiting for you to take notice of her.”

  Adelstan smiled. “I have noticed.”

  “I thought so,” Jorden replied, bringing a tankard to his lips. “My question is why do you remain here when you can be experiencing the sins of the flesh?”

  He glanced in Machara’s direction to find her watching him, a coy smile on her lips.

  “Most of the men have already retired for the night. Go, take what the wench has to offer.” Jorden pushed him in Machara’s direction.

  Adelstan ignored the warring emotions raging within him. His body ached for release.

  Machara smiled widely at his approach.

  “Where shall we go?” he asked, ignoring the hoots from his men as he reached for the woman’s hand and led her from the hall.

  “Wherever ye wish.”

  “You know the castle better than I.”

  Machara licked her lips and Adelstan could not help but compare them to Rhiannon’s fuller, plumper lips. The lips of an innocent. His stomach clenched, wondering if he had been her first kiss. A strange mixture of emotion rushed through him at the thought. First kiss. First touch. First lover.

  He was walking a dangerous line.

  The inner bailey was still alive with activity, mostly officers and servants mingling.

  “We will not be bothered here,” Machara said, opening a door. The smell of bread rose up to meet him.

  Adelstan pushed the door closed and pulled Machara into his arms. They kissed feverishly and he could not help comparing the experienced, rough, almost desperate kiss to the innocent one he shared with Rhiannon hours before.

  “I have wanted ye from the moment I first saw ye.”

  “As did I,” he whispered against her lips, cupping a full breast, tugging at an erect nipple. Though he had not had sex for a week, his cock was only semihard.

  He took one of her hands in his, and brought it down to his erection.

  Her eyes widened and she licked her lips. A moment later she fell to her knees, and with trembling hands pulled the cord of his braies.

  His hands rested on her shoulders as she took him into her hot mouth. Oh yes, he needed this, a woman’s soft mouth on his cock, sucking him, her tongue stroking the length of him from base to head.

  As she continued to suck his length, he let his head fall back on his shoulders and closed his eyes, envisioning another woman, this one with violet eyes and silky brown hair. He remembered Rhiannon’s sweet body outlined in her soaked kirtle.

  His cock lengthened more.

  Machara cupped his balls and he put her at arm’s length, his cock slipping
from her mouth. She looked up at him, a knowing smile on her wet lips.

  “Ye are so large,” she whispered before his cockhead disappeared in her mouth again.

  He leaned back, resting his hips against a large, wooden table. Machara’s tongue swirled around the crown, while her fingers gripped the base, balls and all.

  He fisted a handful of hair and she moaned in delight.

  Chapter 7

  Rhiannon had skipped supper for two reasons. One, she had no desire to see Adelstan, even though she had been unable to keep from thinking of him all evening. And two, she had lost her appetite.

  Elspeth had brought up a plate to her chamber but the smell did little to entice her, and she ended up setting it out in the hallway, certain one of the castle’s dogs would find and devour it. Or mayhap a hungry tower guard.

  After her bath, Rhiannon sat before the fire in nothing but her chemise, wondering what on earth she would say to Adelstan when she saw him again.

  Mayhap she could say she’d taken ill and was feverish.

  Rhiannon looked down at the book in her hand. She had read the same page six times and could not calm her mind enough to take the words in.

  Setting the book aside, she paced the chamber and looked at the large canopy bed with distaste. Sleep was the last thing on her mind. Perhaps she should go in search of Elspeth, who was probably still with Antony in the stables. The fresh air itself would do her good.

  Browsing through Elspeth’s wardrobe, Rhiannon ended up choosing a rough, russet-colored cloak and a pair of well-worn slippers, both of which should not draw attention to her as her own finer clothing would.

  Shutting the chamber door behind her, she rushed down the stairs swiftly, pulling the hood up and over her hair.

  Her father would have a fit if he found her out wandering this time of night by herself, and in nothing but a chemise and cloak. She could only hope he was sound asleep by now.

  Exiting the tower, she took a sharp left to the middle ward, a place she often went to find solace. However, that had been in the light of day and at night the middle ward was pitch black, save for a few torches here and there. Picking up her pace, she came to the doorway that served as a hallway into the inner ward, and it just so happened to set between the chapel and bakehouse. She opened the door slowly, and closed it, releasing a sigh when no guard called out.

  How tempted she was to go to the stables to find Elspeth, but she would not steal away what little time the maid had with her lover.

  She peeked into the inner ward and saw a group of soldiers lingering nearby. Damn! What were they still doing up at this hour?

  Waiting for a heart-pounding minute, Rhiannon looked out into the inner ward again and spotted one of Adelstan’s men-at-arms. The handsome man with dark hair and piercing silver eyes laughed at something one of the others said, his teeth flashing white in a wolfish smile.

  If she took a chance and walked right by Adelstan’s friend, would he allow her to pass without giving her true identity away and alerting the others? She had a feeling he might keep her secret, but would her father’s trusted soldiers?

  A strange noise carried out into the night, coming from the vicinity of the bakehouse. Who on earth would be there at such a time? Had Elspeth and Antony met here instead?

  Nervous, Rhiannon inched toward the door, which was already slightly ajar, but she could not see anything through the tiny space. Pushing the door open a little more, she looked inside and her heart gave a hard jolt upon seeing Adelstan. She nearly said his name, but was stopped short of doing so when she realized all was not right. She could not see all of him, but his head fell back on his shoulders, his eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open, and he breathed hard.

  A feminine moan came again, and Rhiannon opened her mouth in outrage when she nudged the door open a sliver more to find Machara on her knees, sucking Adelstan’s cock.

  Though part of Rhiannon wanted desperately to slam the door, she knew doing so would make her look extremely childish and jealous.

  Damn him!

  Adelstan shifted on his feet, his fingers gripping the whore’s hair, his hips slowly pumping against her mouth.

  “Do ye like that?” Machara asked, one hand holding his hard cock still as she smiled up at Adelstan, who nodded, his eyes heavy-lidded.

  “Ye can come whenever ye like. I do not mind. Ye can make it up to me another night.”

  Having brought herself to orgasm, Rhiannon knew Adelstan must be experiencing the same or similar sensations. If only that were her mouth on Adelstan’s cock instead of the servant’s, whose head now moved back and forth with great speed.

  Adelstan’s thick length, slick with saliva, disappeared and appeared in rapid succession.

  As she stared, Rhiannon’s nipples grew sensitive, and heat wove its way through her veins, down low in her belly, to her sex, which pulsed with the need to be filled.

  Machara’s hands cupped the high cheeks of Adelstan’s ass as her mouth worked him into a frenzy. A deep, primal moan vibrated from within his chest, and Rhiannon felt it all the way to her bones.

  Adelstan thrust a few more times, and released a pleased moan as he reached climax, pumping slowly against the servant’s mouth.

  His hands cupped Machara’s cheeks, and he smiled softly, obviously pleased with her performance. Machara went back on her heels and smiled up at him, wiping his seed from her lips with her fingers.

  Rhiannon noted Adelstan’s cock still appeared semihard. Her own sex tightened looking at him, envisioning the large length inside her now weeping sheath.

  Her body burned for him.

  “Tomorrow night I shall make it up to you,” Adelstan said, pulling up his braies and tying them.

  “I shall count the minutes until then,” Machara said, a confident smile on her face.

  Rhiannon rolled her eyes and ignored the piercing envy that nearly choked her.

  Adelstan reached for Machara and kissed her gently. The woman sighed, her arms encircling his neck. Rhiannon took a step backward, being careful not to alert the two in any way.

  However, Machara must have seen her from the corner of her eye because she gasped. A second later Adelstan whipped open the door.

  “Lady Rhiannon,” he said, looking alarmed.

  Rhiannon pretended to be closing the chapel door behind her. She hoped he could not see how red her cheeks were. Indeed, it was all she could do to make eye contact with him.

  “Good evening, Sir Adelstan,” she said, hoping she sounded surprised. Rhiannon didn’t look at Machara, but she noted the woman’s hand rested possessively on Adelstan’s bicep.

  “Are you coming from the chapel?” Adelstan asked, shutting the bakehouse door behind him.

  Rhiannon nodded. “Aye, I could not sleep, so I decided that perhaps prayer would help.”

  Machara’s brows rose, but she remained quiet.

  Rhiannon intentionally let her gaze shift from Adelstan to Machara and back again. “What are the two of ye up to?”

  “Machara needed my assistance.”

  The servant’s lips quirked.

  “This time of night?” Rhiannon asked, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

  “Aye,” Adelstan said quickly. “Machara, did you get everything you needed?”

  Machara glanced up at Adelstan. “For tonight,” she said, dropping her hand to her side. “I shall see ye on the morrow?”

  “Aye,” Adelstan replied, and waited until she walked off, leaving the two of them alone.

  “Lady Rhiannon, let me walk you back to your chamber,” he said, reaching for her arm, but she stepped away from him.

  “That is not necessary,” Rhiannon said, walking toward the gate she’d just passed through.

  “Do ye often leave your chamber unattended?”

  “Nay, only when Elspeth is occupied.”

  “Why do you go by way of the middle ward? It is dark, and you could run into trouble.”

  “The only person I f
ear is my father.”

  “Why is that?”

  She turned to look at him, and almost wished she hadn’t. He was so gorgeous. “Because he looks for me to do wrong in order to punish me.” She had meant to say it lightheartedly, but it didn’t come out that way.

  “I find it hard to believe that is so.”

  Rhiannon shrugged. “Believe what ye will, Adelstan. It is not easy for me to come and go as I please like ye do. Ye may sulk around the bakehouse with a comely servant, but I, on the other hand, am not as fortunate.”

  He straightened a little, his green eyes narrowing. What had Elspeth said…to use her wits? She need not act like a jealous wife. After what she had just witnessed, she seethed with jealousy, but by damn, she would not show it. “Is that why you are dressed as you are? So you can come and go as you please?”

  She had forgot about the borrowed cloak and slippers. “Aye, it is.” She cleared her throat, uncomfortable with his direct gaze. “I am sure ye are tired after your sport, so I shall let ye go.”

  “Rhiannon, please.”

  Ignoring him, she pushed the door to the middle ward open and slipped through. A rush of wind blew the hood back, along with the cloak, the chemise whipping about her legs.

  Rhiannon made no move to cover herself, especially seeing where Adelstan stared. She wanted him to look.

  “You must be cold,” he said, grabbing for the edges of the cloak, trying to bring them together, but she pulled away.

  Rhiannon’s heart skipped a beat as he looked down at her, the nerve in his jaw twitching. Despite her resistance, he caught the edges of the cloak together and pulled the material tight about her. “You shall catch your death.” He pulled the hood back over her hair. “Why did you leave your chamber dressed in so little?”

  “I needed to think.”

  “About?”

  “My future.”

  His gaze shifted over her face. “It is not wise to go out at night. A man might see you and get the wrong impression.”

  “What kind of impression? That I am a servant who is out searching for a lover?”