World of De Wolfe Pack: Tall, Dark & De Wolfe (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Heirs of Titus De Wolfe Book 3)

by Barbara Devlin

  With something between a sob and a sigh, she advanced on his person, and never had he savored such a delectable, if a tad disorganized, invasion. Surrendering to her adorable if less than elegant attempts at seduction, he honored his promise and permitted her to dictate the course of their tryst, and how she captured him.

  “Oh, Titus.” She pressed her soft and feminine form to him, and he almost let fly his seed in his braies, as he held his breath in anticipation of her admission. “I would have you know that I—”

  A knock intruded on their love play, and he cursed.

  “Who is it?” he barked, as his bride pushed from his lap and wiped her brow. “And wherefore do you intrude on our privacy?”

  “I beg your pardon, but Lady Endelyn requests the presence of Lady Vael.” A maid entered the chamber and bowed her head. “My lord, the physic cannot calm Lady Endelyn, and he believes only Lady Vael can soothe Lady Endelyn’s agitation.”

  The same could be said of Titus.

  “Of course.” Rosenwyn dried her face. “My lord, I should tend my mother.”

  “Aye, my lady.” As she departed, Titus admired the gentle sway of her hips and considered the fact that she did not return his declaration. Then again, they had not made love. Alone in the quiet of their chamber, it struck him as altogether diverting that his father’s words rang true.

  Indeed, a woman’s heart manifested a treasure, sans pareil. Thus the battle-hardened warrior faced his most challenging conquest. But a De Wolfe would never be deterred, and never would he falter, so he would woo his wife. Somehow, some way, Titus vowed that one day, he would win his resistant lady’s heart.

  ~

  Life returned to its usual routine, in the fortnight after the period of mourning Titus designated to honor Rosenwyn’s father. As the estate thrived, and she settled into her duties as Lady Vael, she decided it was time to become a De Wolfe bride, irrevocably.

  And that required a consummation.

  Whereas the mere thought once made her violently ill, now she experienced naught but a shiver of excitement, because her thoughtful husband promised naught but pleasure in the act, and she trusted him.

  But how to convey her desires without embarrassing herself?

  As she mulled the prospects, she walked straight into Petroc.

  “Oh, brother.” She almost toppled, but he grabbed her none too gently by the arms and held her upright. “Apologies, as I was distracted.”

  “No doubt, by the De Wolfe dog.” He glared, and anger welled in the pit of her belly. “But I shall exact recompense for our slights, even if you and Mama have surrendered the fight.”

  “What fight?” Frustrated by his continued combative nature, she splayed her palms. “Are you not tired of resisting all that Titus offers us? He revered Papa, he treats Mama with respect and kindness, he is devoted to me, and he supports you, despite your constant complaints, yet you do naught but agitate and threaten him. Do you honestly believe you could best him, in battle, given his stature and prowess, which is indisputable?”

  “Then I shall die as a warrior.” The scourge waved a clenched fist, and she wanted to scream. “But I submit mine is the greater cause, and I will kill the cur and restore our legacy to—”

  In that instant, she slapped him. “You shall die a fool, and you will go to your grave, as a nameless sack of embarrassment, to be forgotten.”

  “Wherefore do you take his side against me, your own blood?” Rubbing his cheek, which bore the imprint of her hand, he retreated. “Are you not a Burville?”

  “I am a De Wolfe, bound by my oath and the sacrament, and you would do well to remember that.” Clenching her jaw, she checked her tone, as a servant lingered in the hall. “As I once told you, a threat against my husband is a threat against me, and I will defend him, with my life, if necessary. If you cannot forget the sorrowful events of the past, which were not of our making, then you will leave this castle and make your own way. But you will go in peace, or you will deal with me, and you may not like the consequences.”

  “Then I take your leave, my lady.” To her regret, Petroc bowed, with an exaggerated flourish, no doubt intended to mock her. “And I wish you naught but misery in your capitulation, that you might suffer the consequences of your betrayal.”

  “Get out.” She shoved him hard. “Be gone from my sight, that you might burden me, no more. And I shall make your excuses to Mama, though I suppose you will not be missed.”

  “I am going, sister.” He smirked, and the hair at her nape stood on end. “But I have friends, and I will have my revenge. I will not rest until that cursed dog is in the ground, that I might spit upon his remains.”

  Tears welled, as Petroc turned on a heel and ran down the corridor. As children, he was her champion, and his departure tore at her gut. Yet, what most disconcerted her was the danger he posed to her husband.

  Driven by the need to protect Titus, to hold him safely in her unyielding embrace, she returned to the solar. What awaited her brought her to a halt.

  “Good eventide, my beauteous bride.” Standing at the table, and garbed in one of his finest tunics and overgowns, in the De Wolfe black and gold, Titus lifted the lid on a covered dish, to reveal her favorite meal of savory pourcelet farci. “Since we shelter no guests, and all is quiet, I thought we could sup in the privacy of our chambers, and you can take the meal as you sit in my lap, because I would feed you.”

  “Titus.” With the flick of her wrist, she slammed shut the door and then rushed into his outstretched arms. With Petroc’s horrible accounts echoing in her ears, she hugged her husband about the waist and vowed never to let go. “You spoil me, so. What have I done to deserve such gifts?”

  “You have exceeded my requirements, in every way, and thanks to your assistance, the mines yield heretofore unheard of profits.” He kissed the top of her plaited hair. “Wherefore do you weep, when I wanted only to please you?”

  “It is just that I am so happy.” And she needed to be near him, to remind herself that he was hale and whole. “But I should wipe my face, else I shall ruin your lovely gesture.”

  “Are you sure you are all right?” Frowning, he released her. “You shiver, my dear. Is something wrong?”

  “My lord, everything is wonderful. Now, let us enjoy the fruits of your labors, that I might show my appreciation, in a manner I hope will satisfy you, anon.” That garnered a wink and a smile, as he plopped to the bench, and she rolled her shoulders, as she lifted the pitcher of ale and filled his goblet. As he prepared to take a drink, she detected a strange odor, sniffed the contents of the ewer, and knocked the goblet from his grasp. “No.”

  “Wherefore did you do that?” He cast an expression of confusion.

  “It is poison.” She reflected on Petroc’s thirst for revenge and realized she needed to tell Titus everything, as she passed him the pitcher. “Bitter almonds.”

  “God’s bones.” He followed her example and came alert. “This was no accident. Someone tried to kill me.”

  “No, it was not, and you are correct in your assertion.” She shook her head, as something inside her fractured. “And I suspect I know who did it.”

  “What?” Slowly, he stood and leveled his stare on her, and she shrank beneath the weight of his scrutiny. “Who would do such a cowardly thing?”

  “Petroc.” And it killed her to admit it. Determined to leave naught hidden, Rosenwyn collected Senara’s letter, from the small chest, whither she concealed it. In the solar, she gave the missive into Titus’s hands. Then she recounted the various exchanges, including the heated discussion in the undercroft. “He has made numerous threats against you, and I turned him out of the house, ere I came to you, this eventide.”

  “And when were you going to inform me of the sad developments?” Something in Titus’s demeanor gave her pause, as he narrowed his glare. “Wherefore did you not warn me, that I might be on guard?”

  “I feared you might kill my brother.” The hurt in his countenance struck
her as a blow to the face, and she flinched. “But I know you would never hurt my kin. Yet, I would remind you that we were strangers when first we met and married. In truth, you were the enemy, and I was but your reward. I knew not how you would react to Petroc’s foolish campaign against you, so I protected him, hoping I could reason with him. Alas, I was mistaken.”

  “Do you think so little of me?” he inquired, in a low voice.

  “Nay, my lord.” Abandoning any measure of self-preservation, she flung herself at her knight. “Since our wedding ceremony, I have learned through your actions, which lend much to your credit, that you are the best of men, and I am a fortunate wife.”

  “Pretty words, from one who keeps secrets from me.” He tried to put her aside, but she refused to relinquish her hold. Instead, she pressed herself to him, in the manner that always garnered a pleasurable response. “What are you doing?”

  “Prithee, Titus, do not deny me, as I long for your comforting embrace.” When she tried to kiss him, he turned away, so she pressed her lips to his neck. “But I would be more, if you let me. I would be yours. I would seal our vows, forever securing our union, so that naught and no one could ever take you from me.”

  “Do you propose to dissuade me from confronting Petroc, by at last yielding your bride’s prize? Do you believe yourself irresistible, that I should be deterred from my proper course?” Clutching her shoulders, he shook her twice, and she whimpered. “I come to you honestly, with naught but honorable intentions, and you would defile our marriage bed in a pitiful attempt to sway me? Trust me, my lady wife, I am not so desperate as you believe, and what lies between your legs is as much the same as any other quim, which I caution you not to use as a weapon against me, because you will fail.”

  “And never would I do anything so heinous, because I care for you, too, so I will forgive your slight.” Reaching behind her, she tugged at her laces and ripped her gown, but she concerned herself not with modesty, as she dropped the velvet to the floor. After kicking off her slippers, she squared her shoulders, determined to surrender her most intimate flesh, not as a sacrifice, but as an expression of unimpeachable fealty. Covered in naught but her chemise, she met her resistant husband. “What I offer is not some sort of gift, to be bartered as a means to an end. Rather, it is a symbol of unwavering loyalty, which I pledge to you, and you alone, if you will accept me. Whatever you decide, you may do with me as you wish, as I am your humble servant, and I would give my life for you, which I made clear to my brother, before I cast him from our home.”

  Quiet fell on the solar, and she did not falter.

  Without hesitation or shame, she untied the ribbon of her chemise and shrugged free of the fine garment. In silence, she promised to endure his choice, with the grace and ease expected of a De Wolfe bride. To her surprise, Titus uttered naught but her name, a bare whisper, as he knelt at her feet and kissed her belly.

  _________________

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sunlight filtered through the lancet windows, casting a mosaic across the floor, as Titus admired his sleeping wife. Heaven on earth rested between the sheets, as she smiled a feminine smile, and he could only guess the subject of her dreams, but he expended considerable effort to ensure she remained abed, as he had an errand of importance to complete, and he hoped to find her still in blissful slumber, upon his return.

  After skulking quietly across the solar, he opened the door, slipped into the hallway, shut the heavy wood panel, and exhaled. Whistling a frisky little tune, he descended the stairs, two at a time, and charged into the bailey, whither he flagged the steward.

  “Vennor, send for the master of the horse, and have my stallion saddled.” Smiling, Titus pulled on his gloves and shifted his weight. A series of breathy sighs and hushed whispers of devotion filled his ears, as he recalled his bride’s sweet surrender, and his longsword prepared for battle, but he tamped his hunger, as he would not abuse Rosenwyn’s delicate flesh. To his supreme satisfaction, he had at last conquered his prey, and hers was a most precious yield. “And ensure Lady Vael is not disturbed, but if she wakes, have her maid ready a hot bath, and have the cook prepare a substantial meal. Tell my lady that I have journeyed to Truro, on an urgent commission, and I must speak with Credan, and then I shall return.”

  “Aye, sir.” The steward frowned. “Will you not take a compliment of soldiers with you?”

  “Nay, as I will not be gone long, and neither do I travel far.” Just then, the master of the horse appeared, and Titus strolled to his destrier. Considering Petroc’s threats, which his wife recited, in detail, he paused. “But I would take my swords, if you will retrieve them.”

  “Right away, my lord.” Vennor clapped twice and a gadling ran toward the garrison, whither Titus stored his armor and weapons.

  As Titus mounted his destrier, he grimaced, because his fire-breathing dragon ached to invade Rosenwyn’s tender territory, and he resolved to take the long route into the village, to cool his blood.

  “By your command, my lord.” Vennor handed Titus the unique curved blades.

  After securing his pair of Damascus swords, he heeled the flanks of his destrier and galloped past the gates. A brisk wind thrummed through his hair, and he inhaled the fresh air. Just as quick, cherished visions of Rosenwyn filled his senses, as he revisited the moment he claimed her.

  Despite his experience, never had he known a woman could blush from head to toe, and he chuckled as he reflected on her gaze of unmistakable wonder, when he joined their bodies. But it was the memory of her healthy scream, which he would wager rattled the curtain wall about Tharnham, and with which she heralded her virgin release, that he would carry into the hereafter. And it did much to soothe his injured pride, after their first argument.

  Indeed, she seemed intent on proving the depth of her desire, as she made love to him into the dawn hours. It was in the relative solitude of his outing that he realized he had fallen in love with his wife, and no one could have been more surprised.

  Anxious to return to Rosenwyn, he decided to collect the expensive gift and postpone the meeting with Credan, as he wondered how his wife would express her appreciation of his generosity.

  In the environs of Truro, he navigated the maze of narrow streets, until he arrived at the goldsmith’s place of business. At the door, he knocked and then entered.

  “Hello?” Surveying the inventory of treasures, Titus doffed his gloves. “Hammett, are you there?”

  “Lord Vael.” The goldsmith wiped his hands on his leather apron. “I have been expecting you.” From a shelf, he drew a box covered in black velvet. “The item is ready, as you requested. If you will have a seat, you may inspect the bracelet.”

  At a table, Titus pulled out a chair and took his ease. When the goldsmith lifted the lid, Titus swelled with pride. From a bed of cotton, he gently picked up the fine-wrought chain, from which a wolf’s head pendant, an exact likeness of the sigil that adorned every De Wolfe knight’s ailette, dangled. It was a longstanding tradition, dating to the time of William De Wolfe, to gift a De Wolfe bride with the bracelet.

  “It is masterful craftsmanship, Hammett.” Slowly, Titus laid the bracelet atop the cotton. “I shall pay you double the agreed price, in copper ore.” Then he glanced at another bauble. “And what do you want for the circlet, with the diamonds and rubies?”

  “Ah, you have exquisite taste, Lord Vael.” The goldsmith displayed the piece for Titus’s perusal. “The rubies will compliment Lady Vael’s brown eyes and hair.”

  “I will take it.” Titus gathered the jewels.

  After settling his account with Hammett, Titus secured the items, gained his saddle, and steered for Tharnham and his woman.

  Gazing at the clouds, he plotted the delicious occupation of his tempting young bride’s sumptuous territory and veered onto the verge. As he rounded a curve, six hooded riders ambushed him.

  “Behold, the De Wolfe dog.” One raider drew a sword. “It is time to avenge Lord Vael and Petroc Burvill
e.”

  “Then you should have brought more men, as this is hardly a fair fight.” In an instant, Titus unsheathed his Damascus blades, slid from his stallion, and slapped the beast’s flank. Surrounded, he spread his legs and bent his knees to center himself, more amused than concerned. “Who wants to be first?”

  “I will meet your challenge.” A gadling charged, and Titus merely sidestepped the unfortunate and clumsy fool. “Hold still, De Wolfe.”

  “You will have to do better, if you intend to best me.” Titus shifted, hunkered, and evaded two attackers, whose voices he recognized as belonging to the elder sons of his miners. “No warning? Whither is the sport in that, good sirrahs?”

  “You mock us, De Wolfe.” Another spat. “You come to our lands, you take our women, and you steal our heritage. For that, you must die.”

  “Permit me to correct you,” he said, as he confronted three assailants. “Your people waged war against His Majesty, and they lost the battle. As the victor, the King awarded me a single woman, an estate with large debts, and six great abysses of unknowing. Now, as I am anxious to return to my bride, I shall deal with you, but I will not kill you.”

  Moving swift and sure, he surrendered his weapons, punched a vagabond in the face, knocked two heads together, kicked a fourth would-be assaulter in the arse, and swept the remaining duo from their feet. As the idiots moaned, in unison, a compliment of soldiers, bearing the Vael standard, arrived.