Chapter Fifteen
Emery looked over her shoulder again. She had barely left Ashyll, yet she felt as though someone were following. Holding her breath, she listened to the sound of the wind in the grass and wondered whether she heard the familiar rustling of the Saracen. But she knew the foreigner must be long gone, taking the mace with him back to its resting place. She needn’t fear him or Gwayne or even Gwayne’s squire, who still resided at Ashyll.
There was none who would follow her, so she had only to be wary of the usual villains who would prey upon a young man riding alone. But she intended to take to the main roads, where she might fall in with a group of pilgrims and make her way to Buckland.
Emery told herself that the difficult part was already over. Travelling alone was frightening, but ’twas the leaving that had taken all of her courage. She had even avoided visiting Nicholas, for fear she might give away her plans or break down and weep at their parting.
Only the vows she had taken kept her from remaining by his side, for when he woke from his fever, it was all too easy to imagine staying with him in whatever manner he would have her. But she cringed at such cowardice and selfishness, for she would seize her happiness at what cost? She could not repay the kindness of the de Burghs by bringing trouble to their family and shame to their name.
Emery blinked against the sudden pressure behind her eyes and tried to focus. Had something stirred in the tall grass? She barely had time to put her hand to the hilt of her sword when a rider came bounding out of nowhere to halt in front of her. Surely she was not being harried by robbers this close to Ashyll?
Her heart pounding, Emery blinked again, uncertain, for this was no ordinary horse and no ordinary villain. Few who robbed travellers would possess a destrier and this one reminded her of Nicholas’s mount. At that realisation, Emery’s attention flew to the man astride it, tall, broad-shouldered and dark-haired.
For a moment she thought Geoffrey de Burgh had gone out riding, only to stumble upon her, or perhaps this was another de Burgh brother arriving to see Nicholas. ’Twas only when the horse came closer that Emery began to doubt her own eyes. Yet there was no mistaking the rider’s handsome face and the gaze that soon locked with hers.
‘I hope you don’t plan on engaging me in battle because I am in a weakened state,’ Nicholas said, inclining his head towards her sword arm.
Emery looked stupidly down at the weapon that she did not remember drawing and then at the man she loved. Her rush of euphoria at the sight of him was tempered by dismay that he was upon a horse so soon after his near-fatal illness. ‘You should be in bed!’ she said.
‘Indeed, I should.’
Something about the silken purr of his deep voice made Emery feel as weak as he claimed to be. Sucking in a sharp breath, she sheathed her sword and tried to gather her composure.
‘You should not be here,’ she said, fearful that he would fall from his mount, though he looked suspiciously fit. Her eyes narrowed. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I am fulfilling a vow I made to a Hospitaller,’ he said. ‘I swore to aid his sister, and, in turn, to help her find him.’
‘But I must—’ Emery began to protest, only to be cut off.
‘We are bound for Clerkwell, where we will sort out your situation, and, hopefully, find news of your brother,’ Nicholas said.
He spoke with such calm certainty that Emery found it difficult to resist. Hadn’t she wished to follow him anywhere? She swallowed hard, for she knew she had no business spending any more time with this man or on the search for Gerard. But love for them both made her waver.
And Emery had the suspicion that should she refuse, she would find herself well and truly followed. Nicholas was no bully, but he was...unyielding and she did not care to test the de Burgh will. But if the famous name should carry any weight with the Hospitallers, then perhaps she could at least return to her place in the old gatehouse.
Ignoring the sharp stab of pain that came with thoughts of her future, Emery straightened and nodded, although she knew she was only delaying the inevitable parting once again. ’Twould be a bittersweet journey...
Nicholas smiled his approval, then whistled, and to Emery’s surprise Guy rode up to join them. The squire flashed her a grin and Emery felt a rush of affection for him when he spoke.
‘You didn’t think to go on adventures without me, did you?’ he asked.
* * *
Nicholas was becoming frustrated. Despite travelling together for several days and nights, he had rarely spent more than a moment alone with Emery. It had taken him a while to realise, with some surprise, that she didn’t trust him. Or perhaps she didn’t trust herself. Initially, he had been amused by her antics: avoiding his attempts to bathe, taking to her pallet instead of a bed and sticking so close to Guy that she seemed the squire’s shadow.
And Guy, who had once thrown them together eagerly, now seemed determined to protect Emery’s virtue with his life. Had Geoff given him that duty? Or Elene? The Saracen? Nicholas shook his head. He resorted to ploys in order to separate them, but Guy saw right through his efforts and seemed to take delight in thwarting them. Perhaps this was some kind of revenge for his earlier reaction to the squire’s matchmaking?
But with illness and recovery behind him, Nicholas was becoming increasingly aware of how long it had been since he had held Emery in his arms, kissed her, touched her... Yet every time he reached for her, she slipped away, disarmingly skittish, which only made her more desirable.
The night before he had tossed and turned and thrown off the thin blanket, tormented by the knowledge that she was lying only a few feet away. And this morning, seeing the gentle sway of her hips as she hastened to follow Guy from the chamber, he fell back upon the bed with a groan.
But instead of rushing away, she turned towards him with an expression of concern. And though Nicholas had intended no ruse, he remained right where he was as she leaned over him, her breasts in their boy’s clothing tantalisingly close. His breath left him then and he shut his eyes, revelling in her scent and the touch of her fingers against his temple. He could grow accustomed to such treatment...
‘Do you feel warm?’ she asked, her tone anxious.
‘Yes,’ Nicholas answered truthfully. And in an instant, he had rolled her beneath him, feeling the give of her softness against the bed. It had been too long. Far too long.
‘My lord!’
‘Nicholas,’ he whispered, his face bare inches from her own.
‘Nicholas,’ she echoed, flushing deliciously. Bright blue eyes widened under lashes so thick and lush, how could he ever have thought her a boy? Yet there was something about her guise that made his body respond and he longed to remove the male garments to reveal the female beneath. Tugging at her cap, he tossed it aside, loosing her hair to spill forth like silk.
‘You are not ill,’ she said, though the accusation carried little bite.
‘I ache,’ he answered in all honesty. Then he dipped his head and brushed her cheek with his lips. Here. There. And there. He heard her soft intake of breath and found the pulse at her neck.
‘Nicholas,’ she warned.
He drew back, but she would not look at him. ‘Just one kiss,’ he said.
‘I cannot,’ she said. ‘And you know why not.’
‘Ah, but I might not be long for this world,’ he said. ‘Won’t you give a dying man a boon?’
‘Don’t say such things,’ Emery said, putting up a hand to stop his speech. But before she could scold him further, he took her finger into his mouth, sucking gently. Her gaze flew to his and the playful moment changed into something else, as fierce need, long denied, seized them both.
He lowered his mouth and took hers, open, wanting, taking, and she responded in kind, rising up to meet him. He felt her fingers entwine in his hair, tugging his head down to hers, and soon they were rolling around amongst the bedclothes, trying desperately to assuage the hunger that had been building between them.
; Nicholas gasped as he pressed himself against the juncture of her thighs and he heard Emery’s breathless cry, urging him on. He had only to pull down her men’s braies to get inside her, to give them both what they wanted, and his heart thundered at the thought, his blood rushing at dizzying speed.
But ’twas not what they both wanted.
Emery had made her wishes clear, and in the heat of the moment Nicholas had forgotten his oft-deliberated plan to remove each piece of her clothing, slowly and surely. When they came together, he would not have it be a hurried affair conducted in the bed of a strange manor, with the chamber door standing open.
So he lifted his head and took a deep breath and rolled away from that greatest of all temptations. He waited while Emery’s bright blue eyes lost the dazed look of passion, only to focus on him with no little alarm. And if he saw a bit of regret in them, too, Nicholas soon hoped to remedy that.
He sat up and helped her to her feet just as Guy appeared in the doorway to frown at them. ‘Are you coming, or do you intend to dally here all the day?’
* * *
Emery’s euphoria at being reunited with her companions had faded once she realised that things had changed between them. No longer was Nicholas restrained by the scruples that had kept him from standing too close, lingering too long or reaching out to touch her. Each day, his gaze became more heated, as though fuelled by the recovery of his strength, and each night, Emery both feared and hoped that he would join her.
For her own desire was growing, as well, until she hungered for him as she would food or drink. But she no longer trusted herself to stop at just one taste and her fears had proven well founded. Emery could not think about that morning on the bed without blaming herself, for she had succumbed immediately, without thought to the consequences.
Even now, she wondered what would have happened. And a part of her longed to take that experience with her wherever she went, to cherish in the bleak years ahead. But she was glad she did not have anything worse upon her conscience and knew the Hospitallers would not be pleased if she returned with child, no matter who the father.
Emery had been right about one thing: the trip was bittersweet, for the three of them had fallen into the same habits as before. Although this journey was not fraught with tension over her burden and fear of murderous pursuers, each day her heart grew heavier as they drew closer to their destination. Her eventual parting loomed before her like the coming of night. And, though Nicholas seemed undaunted by the prospect, Emery was hard pressed to keep her composure by the time they reached Clerkwell.
* * *
When they approached the entrance, she tried to hang back, for she did not look forward to a confrontation with Udo, the commandery’s priest, who had little love for her. She suspected he did not like to be reminded of his perfidy and that, rather than the prospect of a mixed house, was behind his attempts to send her away.
Yet when the doors swung open, ’twas not Udo, but a brother she did not recognise who welcomed them warmly—far more warmly than any reception she had ever received there. In fact, he appeared to know they were coming, greeting Nicholas by his title and smiling upon Emery as though she were a beloved member of his flock, not an errant one soon to be banished—or worse.
He introduced himself as Grimbald, the new head of the commandery, which caused Emery even more confusion. ‘What happened to Udo?’ she asked.
‘He was recalled by his superiors and I am delighted to take his place here at Clerkwell amongst the good brethren. ’Tis a lovely place, as you well know.’
Emery nodded, numbly. Udo had been replaced?
‘I believe there is something here you would like to see,’ he said, his face crinkling with a gentle smile as he led the three of them to one of the small sleeping chambers. Emery tried to suppress the suspicion that once inside, she would be locked in there for ever. But still she trailed behind until he flung the door open to reveal someone sitting up in the narrow bed.
‘Gerard!’ Emery rushed forwards, heedless of the others, and threw herself into her brother’s arms. He was thinner than when she had last seen him and more pale, and she leaned back to eye him with concern.
‘Are you ill?’
He shook his head. ‘I am well now, Em,’ he said with a smile. ‘And I understand you are, too.’ He sent a knowing look over her shoulder and she began to suspect that Nicholas had guessed her brother was here. Emery didn’t know whether to be indignant or angry at being kept in the dark, but she was so relieved to see Gerard alive and well that she hugged him again.
When she introduced her companions, they all gathered round to hear her brother’s tale, the last piece of the puzzle that had consumed them for so long. He began with his trip home to England, though he could not recall much of his time aboard ship, having been unwell. Indeed, he was uncertain what had transpired, especially when he discovered the mace in his possession.
Unwilling to carry such a valuable object in his condition, he sent it on to Emery for safekeeping, at least until he could discover more about it and recover his strength. After his squire left to deliver the parcel, Gerard made his way more slowly, stopping frequently to rest. Finally, in need of decent food and a bed, he sought shelter at the inn, where he was attacked by Gwayne.
His expression turned bleak and he spoke haltingly. ‘Upon fleeing the Templar, I stumbled across my squire, dead, with something from the Holy Land left upon his body as though as a token.’ Panicking, Gerard hid the youth’s body under some brush, but kept the card as he hurried onwards, barely making it to the gatehouse before collapsing.
When he woke up in Emery’s bed, Gerard could not remember anything except the importance of finding the mace, though he did not know whether it had even been delivered. And he didn’t know who to trust, having been assaulted by a Templar knight, who claimed a deadly Saracen was hunting for him, as well.
‘I’m afraid it all got tangled up together in my mind until I suspected everyone, even members of my order and my own uncle,’ he said, ruefully.
Emery exchanged a glance with Nicholas, acknowledging Gerard was probably right in his suspicions of Harold. But that discussion could come later.
‘I remember leaving Montbard, despairing of ever finding the thing again, and, to be honest, by that point, it all seemed like a dream. Or a nightmare,’ Gerard said. He ended up collapsing in one of the once-disputed fields, where he was found by his brethren. Taken to Clerkwell, he finally received the care he needed.
‘When I regained my senses, I couldn’t recall much of what had happened, but I was told that you had disappeared,’ Gerard said, turning to Emery. ‘I was frantic, especially since I was responsible for putting you in danger. And when they told me Harold had been murdered...’ He trailed off, unable to go on.
‘’Twas only when I arrived with news that his sister was safe that he began his full recovery, at last.’
Emery glanced up in surprise to see it was Grimbald who had spoken. He was standing in the doorway, eyeing them benignly.
‘But how did you know?’ Emery asked.
‘The Earl of Campion’s man spoke to my superior and I was charged with passing along the good tidings. I also have some news for you that I suspect will prove welcome,’ he said, addressing Emery.
‘As the earl’s emissary pointed out, there was some confusion over your father’s wishes and your status as donat is restored, leaving you free of any commitment to the order. In fact, I am authorised to restore your property, as well, should you care to receive it.’
Stunned, Emery turned to her brother, who shook his head. ‘I am content to serve the Hospitallers in any way I can, though my leg may prevent any further fighting. I have no need of the manor house, but you are welcome to it, Emery.’
Blinking at the astonishing turn of events, Emery looked to Nicholas, who was smiling down at her. When his gaze met hers, she knew the answer. ‘I doubt I will have need of it,’ she said, her voice cracking with emotion.
‘Well, I will let you think upon the matter,’ Grimbald said. ‘And if I can be of any service to you, please let me know.’
‘There is one more thing,’ Nicholas said, his gaze still locked with Emery’s.
‘Certainly, my lord.’
‘Can you marry us?’
* * *
Emery stood at Nicholas’s side, accepting the well wishes of his family even as she tried to remember exactly who was who. But with six siblings and their wives and children to identify, Emery knew it would take some time. And even though Nicholas still worried that his fever would return, Emery was convinced it would not, which gave her all the time in the world.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Guy talking earnestly to the daughter of the steward. No doubt he was making much of his adventures, but he had been so happy to return that he had kissed the ground, swearing never to leave again. And who could blame him?
Emery immediately had fallen in love with her new home, despite being a bit awestruck by its splendour and beauty. Embraced by Nicholas’s family as one of their own, she did not think her happiness could grow any bigger. Yet when she glanced at her new little nieces and nephews, she thought perhaps there was one thing that might accomplish that feat.
And considering that her husband insisted on making the most of every moment, there had been more than enough opportunities for her to get with child. She put a hand over her belly, wondering how soon she might know, only to find the earl’s gaze upon her. Was he really prescient? He smiled gently before turning away, as if to survey the great hall, teaming with life and love.
The Earl of Campion was, indeed, surveying the throng, his heart as full as the castle. Fawke was old enough that he was grateful whenever his children and grandchildren could gather together. And he was thankful that the last of his sons was settled. He had been worried when they’d received no word of Nicholas for so long, but now he had faith that all would be well.
The Last de Burgh Page 21