by Diana Cosby
In answer, she cupped him.
On a hiss, he hauled her against him.
The slap of water merged with the sound of their hurried breaths. He pinned her against the inner tub and ravaged her.
“I promised your brother to protect you,” Nicholas murmured between kisses. “Yet I cannot even protect you against myself.”
Like ice thrown over her she turned in his arms and stared at him in shocked disbelief. “My brother?”
CHAPTER 16
Water sloshed between them in the tub as Elizabet glared at Nicholas, her emotions a mix of anger and hurt. “You knew Giric was my brother and didna tell me!”
Nicholas muttered a soft oath. “Aye, but ’twas minor compared to the secret you hid from me. Blast it, I have damned myself for my growing feelings over Thomas! Do you think I found pleasure in that?”
Guilt swept her. She’d watched him suffer. “Nay, but hurting you was nae my intent.” But she had.
A muscle worked in his jaw. “Terrick is fortunate his relation to you was kin. Otherwise, I might not have been so forgiving.”
Happiness trickled through her at his jealousy, then faded. What they now shared made the parting worse.
She must leave.
Now.
A cold emptiness filled her as she started to stand.
He caught her shoulders in a gentle embrace. “What is wrong?”
A heart-wrenching ache wrapped around her soul. Each moment she remained would make it that much harder to leave. “Release me.”
His brow furrowed. “Tell me.”
Loving him, if she didna go now she would fall apart. Tears burning her throat, water sloshed as she pushed at his hands upon her shoulders; they held.
“Blast it, you are going nowhere.”
At his commanding tone she stared at him in disbelief. The weakening of moments ago gave way to irritation. “Is that an order?”
“I promised your brother I would watch over you until he returned.”
“And that included bedding me?”
Laughter twinkled in his eyes as he caressed her chin with the tip of his finger. “An added benefit, I assure you.”
She poked her finger in his chest. “This isna a game.”
“No, ’tis not,” Nicholas replied, his voice thick with emotion. “Lady Elizabet Armstrong, I am desperately in love with you.” He drew her to him in the tub and claimed her mouth in a slow, seductive kiss.
His each touch was magic and she wanted more, wanted forever. Except, he didna understand, it couldna be.
Expression somber, he lifted his head. “My pledge to protect you was as much for me as your brother.” He shook his head as she made to speak. “You will listen to me. Illegal goods are being smuggled into England, goods that have already cost too many people their lives. Besides the previous castellan, I am unsure who else is involved.” He exhaled. “Your brother has ridden to Scotland to find information on several leads. I refuse to jeopardize your life by allowing you to return to Wolfhaven Castle. Until I am sure ’tis safe, you will remain with me.”
Elizabet battled the conflicting emotions, but she clung to the scraps of irritation, needing the anchor in the sea of desire. “So you and Giric decided what is best for me. Just like that?”
He arched a curious brow. “And what would you do if I let you leave?”
Lord Dunsten’s threat slashed through her in a chilling rush. “You do nae understand. Giric—Dunsten—”
“Slow down.” He skimmed his hands up her arms to rest upon her shoulders. “What does this have to do with Lord Dunsten?”
Nerves trembled and her throat grew dry. “He wants Giric dead.” She moved into his embrace, needing Nicholas’s support.
“Explain.”
She searched his face. “Ever since we were children, Giric and Lord Dunsten have been rivals. I am nae sure what made them enemies. My brother would never explain. What I do know is that at the age often and six, my brother returned from hunting with Lord Dunsten and swore their friendship was over.” She paused, remembering her brother’s face filled with angst when he’d told her. “Later, Dunsten approached my father and requested my hand in marriage. Regardless that I didna wish to marry the earl, my father was pleased by the match as he felt Lord Dunsten would be a strong ally. Except Giric intervened. I am nae sure what my brother said to my father in private, but after the meeting, he denied the earl’s request. Furious, Lord Dunsten departed, but nae before he swore Giric would regret his interference.” Nausea swept her as she remembered Dunsten’s touch days before at Ravenmoor Castle. “When the earl cornered me outside the castle during his last visit, he said—”
“What!”
“I couldna tell you then. You thought I was a lad. I planned on avoiding him until . . .”
Steel-gray eyes narrowed. “You vanished.”
She nodded, ashamed at her admission, saddened that now, even after he knew the truth, naught had changed. She still must go.
Tenderness interlaced the anger in his eyes as he cupped her chin and scoured her face. “Did he hurt you?”
“Nay, but after Lord Dunsten kissed me—”
“He kissed you!”
“Aye—”
His eyes blackened with rage. “That he dared touch you, threaten you, by God he will regret both!”
“Nicholas.” Water slid down her arm and dripped into the tub as she took his hand. “ ’Tis nae my welfare that concerns me. He is a powerful lord, and I fear for Giric’s life. Dunsten told me that if I didna marry him, he would expose me for being a fraud. I—I couldna take the risk. Please, you must warn Giric.”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Lord Dunsten does not know your brother is free.”
Foreboding crept up her spine. “ ’Twill be but a matter of time before he learns of Giric’s release. When he does, Lord Dunsten will be furious. More important, he will track him down. Neither do I want you involved further. He is a powerful lord who could attack Ravenmoor Castle, or claim false charges against you to your king.”
Nicholas pressed a kiss on her fingers. “Do not worry about me. I have rebuilt Ravenmoor’s defenses, and I have the king’s ear. King Edward would nae accept an enemy’s claim without proof. As for your brother, he will be back in a few days. When he arrives, I will inform him of the situation.”
“I could ride to Wolfhaven Castle and—”
“Your brother planned to take several of his men from Wolfhaven Castle with him.”
Far from appeased, she studied Nicholas. From what little he’d divulged, she doubted that he would share Giric’s destination. At the moment, there was naught she could do except pray for her brother’s safe return.
There still remained an issue to settle between her and Nicholas. And wedged intimately with him in a tub was far from the setting she needed to discuss such a volatile matter.
Elizabet stood. The cool drops against her skin made her shiver. She stepped onto the floor and retrieved a blanket. Heart aching, she walked to the hearth, already missing his touch.
The slosh of water sounded as he exited the bath.
She braced herself for his anger. “I canna remain here.”
The rumple of clothes sounded. “We have already covered that,” he said with quiet calm. “You are to remain with me.”
Furious she would dismiss her without question, she pulled the blanket up to her chin, stood, and faced him. “I canna remain now that you know that I am a woman.” Heat stole up her cheeks. “Even after last night, ’twould nae be right.”
She was driving him mad! Nicholas strode across the room and hauled Elizabet against him, claiming her mouth in a burning kiss. He broke free. “You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met. And you are staying here!”
Emerald eyes blazed and she stepped back. “I will nae be a mistress to any man, nae even for you.”
Hurt cut deep at her accusation. “Is that what you think, that I would keep you as my mistress and offer you naug
ht but disgrace?”
She swallowed hard, the pain in her gaze mirroring his own. “I think ’tis best if I leave.” Her voice wavered.
He advanced a step.
Elizabet moved back, halted by the hearth. “Please . . . Last night . . .” She shook her head. “ ’Twas a mistake.”
The last shred of calm shattered. “Bloody hell it was!” With a growl, Nicholas tore the blanket from her. His hands roamed her body with a fierce need, touching, teasing as his mouth claimed her driven by the emotions she inspired.
On a moan, she trembled against him, then she began kissing him back.
Nicholas jerked away, his breathing harsh, his body coiled tight. “And was that a mistake as well?”
Tears gathered in her eyes. “Do nae do this.”
He refused to allow her to destroy what they had found. “I love you,” he said, cursing the timing, and with her, not surprised that she’d somehow found a way to undermine his plans to propose in a romantic setting. “I would never shame you. Ever! I had meant to ask you tonight with candlelight in your eyes, and with the love that fills my heart. But I am asking you now.” He knelt before her, took her hand, and pressed it against his heart. “Lady Elizabet Armstrong, will you be my wife?”
He’d expected warmth or at least a semblance of a smile. Instead she grew tense. Terror whipped through him. She was going to say no! He stood and held her, afraid if he let go she would run. “Elizabet. Last night you said you loved me.”
“I do,” she whispered.
“Then marry me.”
Sadness filled her eyes. “I canna.”
Angst tore through him. “Is it because I am a knight and you are a noble?”
“Nay.”
Her breath fell out in a panicked rush as she stared at him, and her eyes filled with regret. He picked up the blanket, and shoved it toward her.
She tore it from his hands and wrapped it protectively around her body.
“We will talk later,” he snapped, angry at his foolishness. How could he have asked her to marry him in the middle of an argument? Was it any wonder she looked at him as if she would bolt? Until things between them calmed, until she revealed why she refused to wed him, he would have comfort in knowing she was safe. “When you are not by my side, a guard will be assigned to you for your protection.”
She glanced around the chamber, her gaze pausing at the rumpled sheets. “I am such a fool.”
“As well as I,” Nicholas said. “But we cannot erase last night, nor would I want to.”
“You do nae understand.”
He glanced out the window. The sun was edging over the horizon. Blast it. The luxury of time had run out. “We will discuss us later. ’Tis time to break our fast and take care of the day’s duties.”
The all-too-familiar stubbornness filled her gaze.
“You can make this hard or easy.” From her defiant stance, she would choose the latter. Nicholas caught her hand and led her where he’d removed her garb the night before, remembering all too well her naked body pressed against his. Desire filled him, and he began to harden. “Get dressed.”
She eyed him, leaving the clothes untouched. “I do nae like it.”
He couldn’t help but smile. By God but she was beautiful when she was upset. “I never thought you would.” He started to leave, paused at the door, and glanced back, her rumpled anger endearing, her sleep-mussed body wrapped in the blanket stealing his heart. “I will speak with one of the other women. Until we can have some of your clothes sent from Wolfhaven Castle, you will have to make do. And I will be by your side when the residents of Ravenmoor Castle learn the truth.”
With a muttered grumble, she picked up a boot and tossed it at the door.
On a chuckle he slipped out, pulled the door shut.
A thump echoed on the opposite side.
Nicholas laughed, sure he was insane, more sure he was in love. For the next few days, until her brother returned, their time together would prove interesting. The challenge of melting Elizabet’s anger heated his blood, of gaining her agreement to his proposal a challenge unto itself.
He smiled as he strode down the corridor. As much as she may wish, she wasn’t immune to him, and the warrior in him prepared for the upcoming sensual battle. A siege he would win.
The lingering scent of porridge and ale from the morning meal hung in the air as Elizabet peered around the corner into the great hall. On a normal day only a few women would have cleaned up from the morning meal as the hounds scavenged through the rushes for the last morsel of meat or bread. Instead, a small crowd of knights and peasants had gathered within, which could have been a thousand as far as she was concerned.
At her side, Nicholas gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “All will be well.”
Thankful for his presence, Elizabet released a slow breath and glanced up. “I am nervous.” An understatement. She was terrified.
Though dressed in a fine linen gown of eggshell blue, found in one of Sir Renaud’s many chests, and with her raven hair brushed until it shone and looking every bit the noblewoman, she felt like an oddity. How did one announce that the lad they’d worked alongside over the past several weeks was in fact a woman, a woman who was nobility, and one who had stayed within their castellan’s chamber? God forbid if they learned she’d shared his bed.
Fear tore through her. This wasna going to work. If they didna eye her as some three-headed ogre, they would look upon her as a traitor, or believe her his whore.
“ ’Tis time,” Nicholas said, drawing her forward.
“I am nae ready,” she whispered. “A moment more.”
With tender smile he winked. “You are too stubborn to be nervous.”
She drew her shoulders back. And what did he know, the Sassenach. “I am . . .” At the love in his eyes, she realized he’d goaded her on purpose to make her forget her nerves. How could she nae love him, or even think of shaming him by acting with any hint of cowardice? Elizabet drew herself up. For him she would brave it all.
With a pleased nod Nicholas took her arm, then stepped forward with her by his side.
Sir Jon was the first to spot them as they entered the great hall. He turned to the throng milling about. “Pray silence for Sir Nicholas Beringar, Castellan of Ravenmoor Castle.” His deep voice echoed throughout the large chamber.
Nicholas nodded as they walked past Sir Jon, but Elizabet could only nod. For once in her life words escaped her. The clack of their leather boots upon the wooden dais was like the beat of a drum, as if she marched toward the gallows.
At the center of the wooden platform, he halted. As if in slow motion, he turned with her toward the curious eyes of his knights. Nicholas’s gaze swept over the audience. “Since my arrival I have seen Ravenmoor change, become a castle I am proud of. Negotiations to bring peace along our borders are well underway. But I stand before you this day and am honored to introduce you to a woman whose spirit is the essence of the Scots.”
“She looks like the lad, Thomas,” came a yell from the back.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd like a storm-fed wave, but their unsure eyes never left her.
And Elizabet wished the ground would open and swallow her up.
“That is because ’tis the guise she used to fool us all,” Nicholas answered, his voice strong and proud.
A hush fell over the crowd, but her heart swelled with love. For her he’d braved humiliation.
As if daring any challenge, Nicholas scanned the crowd. “Though her means to gain entry into Ravenmoor Castle was extreme, her daring was to rescue her people locked within the dungeon.” He turned toward her, pride warm in his heart. “I am honored to introduce to you Lady Elizabet Armstrong from Wolfhaven Castle which borders us on Scottish soil. Until recently, her brother, Lord Terrick, was held prisoner within Ravenmoor.”
Grumbles of the earl’s release ran through the crowd like the hum of angry bees.
Nicholas again held his hand up to silence any protest, p
roud of how Elizabet held her own when most women would have fled or never dared to enter. Aye she was nervous, but if he hadn’t known her so well, he would never have seen it. “I released Lord Terrick because I believed his imprisonment to be unfair. He and his people were provoked by foul means.”
“Sir Renaud said Lord Terrick was a reiver and murderer,” a large man near the front called out. “A man nae to be trusted.”
He held the man’s gaze. “Sir Renaud’s views are not my own,” Nicholas replied. The last thing he would wish is to put Elizabet through this hell, but he would end untoward speculation here and now. She deserved that and more.
Nicholas took a step closer to the crowd; Elizabet remained by his side. “At my initial arrival, one had only to look around to see the shambles Sir Renaud had allowed Ravenmoor Castle to fall into. Upon further investigation, I discovered gross errors in the ledgers accounts. In addition, the previous castellan’s actions toward his people and the border Scots have been cruel and highly improper, conduct I have reported to the king.” He curled his hand upon the hilt of his blade and scanned the crowd, meeting his men’s gaze. “If anyone finds they cannot accept my decision, you are free to leave. But if you remain, I will tolerate naught but respect toward Lady Elizabet. Her actions, though extreme, were inspired by love and devotion to her brother. If given her situation, would your actions be as courageous?” His voice echoed through the room, cascading into silence.
Each of his knights remained.
Relief sifted through him. Though he could ill afford to lose a single man, he refused to have any remain who harbored ill feelings toward Elizabet or his decision this day. “Are there any other questions?”
Silence.
He nodded. “Then let us be about our tasks.” As he led Elizabet away, worry sifted through him. What would Lord Dunsten’s reaction be once he found out Elizabet was staying within his home?
As the torches in the great hall illuminated the evening meal, Elizabet forced herself to swallow another bite of venison, thankful the day was over. She’d expected stronger resistance from the castellan’s men to her presence within Ravenmoor Castle. Except for a few covert stares, nay more had been said. Their silence did nae erase the shock written upon their faces, nor their speculation. A lackwit could have deducted their belief—she was his mistress.