Forbidden Magic

by Catherine Emm

  Jewel's smooth brow wrinkled in a perplexed frown as she stared back at him, a mass of whirling thoughts going through her head. His voice, the color of his eyes, his blond hair, and the scar on his cheek were all so frighteningly familiar. She knew him. She was positive of that. But she couldn't recall why. He was the key to her past, if only she could remember. A small hand reached out and tugged on the hem of her sleeve, and she glanced down at the chubby little face still flushed with a mild fever.

  "Sir Amery home now," Ella said, her blue eyes round with innocence.

  Amery? The name exploded in Jewel's head. Amery! Amery of Wellington! Her betrothed! Tears flooded her eyes and a sob shook her body as she lifted her face to look at him, every detail of her past now released from the dark prison of her mind. She saw her mother and father, Edwina, Ivy, and little William, Dawn and Lynette, her friends from court, Queen Eleanor, King Richard, Radolf, his cousin, Kennard, Lady Anne, Sir Gunther, and, lastly . . . Hadwin.

  "Oh God, Amery," she screamed, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly to her. "Ian murdered him! Tis because of my foolishness that Hadwin is dead!"

  "Hush," he soothed, unable to keep the smile of happiness from parting his lips. Closing his eyes, he silently thanked God for bringing her back safely to him and vowed that he would never let anything happen to her again. He would make her his wife, and together they would live out their days at Wellington. Unmindful of those who watched, he bent, caught her up in his arms, and carried her toward the stairs. Mounting them two at a time, he effortlessly walked the distance to their chambers, kicked the door open, and went inside where he gently laid her down on the bed. But when he started to rise, Jewel entrapped the sleeve of his tunic in her grasp.

  "Don't leave me," she wept, tears glistening in her eyes.

  A bright smile sparkled in his own. "Only to close the door," he promised, taking her tiny hand to place a kiss upon her fingers. But when he tried to rise a second time, she sat up and quickly looped her arms around his neck, forcing him to sit down on the bed next to her.

  "Nay, let them watch, for I do not care. I must feel your aims around me and know that I am safe."

  Sensing that her need to be comforted was stronger than her desire for privacy, Amery kicked off his boots and shifted his weight until he could lean back against the headboard with Jewel snuggled contentedly in his embrace. It took all the self-control he could muster not to turn her in his arms and kiss her passionately. But Gunther's warning still rang sharply in his ears.

  "She doesn't know who you are," he had said, and from the baffled look in her eyes when first she had glanced up and seen him, he knew that it was true. Young Ella had been the one to change that. His brow furrowed and he wondered if the sight of Hadwin's murder had brought on the lapse in her memory. And where had she been all this time? Who had found her? A dozen questions whirled about in his brain, and he closed his eyes, trying not to think about them. Jewel needed to rest for awhile. Then they could talk. A vague smile crimped his mouth. And then he could tell her of his plans for them. He frowned again when he suddenly remembered that in two weeks' time he would have to return to London to meet his half brother on the battlefield. He wondered what Jewel's reaction would be. She had run away from him because she had not believed Radolf responsible for the death of her family. Now, by order of the dowager queen, a joust would be fought to determine who would be the lord of Wellington, and no matter who won, one man would die.

  Jewel sighed softly in his arms, and when he glanced down at her, he saw that she had fallen asleep. The fire in the hearth was low and since he had decided that what they needed to discuss could wait, he tenderly and gently moved out from under her, made sure she was comfortable, covered her with a fur pelt, then crossed to the fireplace to add more logs. As he stared into the flames that quickly flared up from the glowing embers of the fire, he wondered if perhaps he should forget about telling her how he felt about her. Gunther was convinced she had fallen in love with her betrothed, and knowing that Amery cared for her as well might only make it more difficult for her should his half brother prove to be the better swordsman. A draft of cool air coming from the open doorway turned his attention in its direction, and he absently came to his feet, crossed the space to the door, and quietly closed it. The idea of Radolf winning the contest was ludicrous. Amery had always been the stronger of the two. He smiled lopsidedly and returned to the hearth, where he sat down in the chair before it. And now more than ever, he had something to prove. His gaze traveled across the room to the bed and the tiny figure lying in it. And he had a reason for living. He had Jewel. Feeling at peace for the first time in a long while and his tired body begging for rest, he closed his eyes, drifting off into a tranquil sleep almost immediately.

  Only a few minutes passed before he was jolted awake by Jewel's cries for help. Bolting out of his chair, fists clenched and ready to fight whoever threatened her, he shook his head to clear his mind, wondering if he had dreamed it when he discovered the room was empty. But then she cried out again, whimpering softly, and he hurried to the bed to look down at her. Her eyes were closed and her face was twisted in a painful frown.

  "Nay .. . don't kill him, Ian . .." she mumbled, her head rolling from side to side. "Trust no one . . . enemies ... seek out the Lord ... He will help . . ."

  Knowing that Jewel's sleep was haunted with nightmares, Amery quickly sat down on the bed beside her and slowly drew her into his arms. "You're safe, Jewel," he whispered. "You're with me."

  She came awake instantly, and the fear he saw in her eyes tore at his heart.

  "No one will ever hurt you again. I swear that to you." He kissed her temple.

  "I saw Ian kill Hadwin, Amery. 'Twas my fault—"

  "Hush," he quickly interrupted. "Ian was sent here by Lady Edlyn and he would have killed anyone who stood in the way of his getting to you. But he's dead now, and you don't have to worry about him anymore."

  "Dead?" she questioned, hope-filled eyes looking up at him.

  "Yea," he vowed, smiling softly. Shifting, he held her closer to him, enjoying the warmth and gentle curves of her body pressed against him: "Where have you been?"

  A thoughtful, confused look came over her face as she tried to recall her journey back to Burchard. "I'm not sure how I got here. I do remember two knights called Hube and Stanmore, and a maid, Celeste. They took me to see Ordella."

  "The old woman in the village?" he exclaimed.

  Jewel nodded her head. "I had no memory and they feared for my life. So Ordella hid me in her hut."

  "My God," Amery moaned. "You've been right here under my nose all this time." He smiled at the irony of it. "Remind me to thank them for their help."

  "I would like to do the same, Amery, but no one has seen any of them since the day they brought me here," she admitted. "'Tis why Ordella said we couldn't trust anyone—" She sat up suddenly when she recalled the old woman's dying words. "That's what she meant!" Jewel proclaimed excitedly.

  "Who? What?"

  "Ordella's last words to me were to seek out the lord. She meant Sir Gunther, but at the time I thought she was referring to God." Settling back in his embrace, she sighed. "If I had only understood, I might have spared him his shame."

  "Who? Gunther?" he asked, puzzled.

  "Yea, 'twas his sister, Mertice, who found me. Only she had no intention of taking me to the castle." She gave a short laugh. "She, too, wanted me dead."

  "What?" he exploded, holding her at arm's length. "Why?"

  Jewel smiled coquettishly at him. "Why, to have you all to herself, Amery. 'Twould seem thou art in demand."

  "I am betrothed to you, Jewel," he growled, furious with the thought that the woman had planned to murder Jewel. "Everyone knows that."

  The humor faded from her eyes, and her heart began to pound loudly in her chest. He had spoken with such conviction that she wondered if he had changed his mind about marrying her. She lowered her gaze before he could notice
the surprised look in her eyes and question it. It was simply too much to hope for.

  "I will see that she pays for her treachery," he snarled.

  "There is no need, Amery. Gunther has already cast her from this place and denounced their kinship." Suddenly, his touch was more than she could bear. She had fallen in love with him and knew that her love would never be returned. Sliding to the edge of the bed, she rose and crossed to stand before the hearth. "There is still the matter of Harcourt and your claim of Radolf's guilt. Sir Ian's presence at Burchard would confirm your suspicions about Lady Edlyn, but what of your half brother? Hast thou found a solution?"

  "Nay," he admitted, his eyes lovingly roaming over the slender length of her as the firelight silhouetted the tapering limbs beneath the skirt of her gunna. "But the dowager queen has."

  Jewel faced him, surprised by his announcement. "Thou hast spoken to her?"

  He nodded as he rose and came to stand near her. "Yea, in two weeks time, Radolf and I will meet on the battlefield. Queen Eleanor has declared a joust to the death. The victor will claim Wellington, and Harcourt as well, since no lord rules there." He smiled softly at her. "But 'twas proclaimed when all thought thou were dead. She will repeal her decision that the gift of Harcourt be part of the prize."

  Jewel's knees trembled and she quickly sat down in the chair before they buckled beneath her. "To the death?" she breathed.

  Amery silently cursed his careless manner in telling her and knelt down beside her to take her hand. "Tis the only way, Jewel. Both of us claim the right to rule Wellington. Queen Eleanor had no other choice."

  Tears glistened in her eyes, and she blinked them away. "But what will you do, Amery?"

  "Do?" he asked. "I will meet him, of course."

  The muscles in her throat tightened. "But what if he kills you?" she whispered, lifting amber-hued eyes to his. "What shall become of me? How will I endure the grief?"

  "Grief?" he repeated. "Over my death?"

  The tears came again, but this time Jewel had no desire to stop them, and they quickly filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. "Yea, my stubborn knight. Is it so difficult for you to understand that someone in your life can truly love you? Mourn your loss?"

  "Love, Jewel?" he asked, wanting desperately to hear her say the words.

  "Yea, love. I love thee, Amery!" In a burst of anger, she yanked free of him and stood. "Mayhap, I will regret the telling of that which I feel in my heart, Amery, should your lance hold steady on the field of battle and you then become lord of Wellington. Thou wilt have a good laugh about it, listing my name with all the others who pledged undying devotion to you only to be cast aside. But know this," she firmly added, "I will be the only one among them who had the right."

  A faint smile parted his lips as he slowly came to his feet. "And thou wilt be the only one who ever lingered in my thoughts from the first and found a place within my heart." He cocked a brow at the surprised look on her face. "Is it so difficult for you to understand," he teased, mimicking her very words, "that this stubborn knight can change his ways and feel love as thou dost?" His expression grew serious. "For that is what has happened, Lady Jewel of Harcourt. I have fallen in love with thee and will shout it from the highest peak in London if it be thy wish."

  For several moments, Jewel simply stared at him, half expecting to wake up from her dream, open her eyes and find herself still abed, and realize that what Amery had just confessed to her had merely been the longing in her heart wanting to be heard. Then' he stepped forward and gently touched her cheek with the backs of his fingertips, and she knew it was real. "Oh, Amery," she wept, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling his head down to meet her kiss in one glorious explosion of rapture. She clung frantically to him, her body molded against his, reveling in the splendor of this magical moment and praying it would never end.

  Amery kissed her hungrily, passionately, as he savored the heady feel of soft curves pressed against him and the willingness of her caress when her narrow fingers entwined themselves within the thick hair at the nape of his neck, trapping his mouth to hers. Her lips parted eagerly, impatient to share in the blissful sensation he aroused when his tongue played lightly with hers before pushing inside to taste the sweetness of their kiss, and his mind reeled with ecstasy when her hands moved to the fastenings of his garments. From the first, when he had taken her there in the inn those many weeks past, he had secretly dreamed of someday experiencing the joy she would give him with her unreluctant acceptance of his lovemaking, and now it was she who guided their moves.

  Firelight danced brightly against the couple and set their naked flesh aglow as both shed their clothes and stood before the hearth locked in a passionate embrace. His large, powerful hands were tender and gentle as they glided over her silky, trembling body, then he lifted her tiny form into his strong arms and carried her to the bed. They fell together upon it, their lips still touching, fingers exploring. He kissed the corner of her mouth, the tip of her nose, each eyelid, then nibbled on one earlobe, while his hand roamed freely down the slim column of her throat, across her shoulder, then gently cupped one breast, his thumb stroking its peak and his lips claiming hers again. She gasped breathlessly when he rolled her on top of him, his huge hands nearly encompassing her narrow waist as he lowered her to him, his open mouth descending across the fevered flesh of her throat to the taut peak of her breast. Her hands braced against his shoulders, she closed her eyes and tilted back her head, enthralled by the mystical grandeur of his branding caress until the heat of their desire consumed them and they thirsted for the sweet nectar that would sate their burning lust. Folding her beneath him, he pressed a knee between her thighs and rose up to look upon her beauty, his green eyes the shade of emerald stones. His blood was like liquid fire coursing through his veins, and his heart thundered loudly in his ears. Never before had he wanted a woman as much as he wanted this one. Lowering himself upon her, he thrust his manhood deep within her, and he groaned deliriously when she raised her hips to welcome him.

  A raging fire exploded within her, and with each sleek movement of their bodies, she was lifted higher and higher on the wings of enchantment to float about the heavens on a silky cloud of blissful pleasure. A sprinkling of stars lit up the skies in a blinding display of brilliance, then burst into a spectacular array of color that carried them along on the crest of their passion until at last, their bodies weak and exhausted, they tumbled back to earth enveloped in a veil of contentment. Huddled close in his embrace, Jewel laid her head upon his chest and listened to the steady beating of his heart, knowing that no matter what tomorrow might hold within its grasp for them, she would endure on memories alone. He had declared his love for her, and nothing anyone could ever do would take that from her.

  Chapter 19

  The first day of February dawned clear and exceptionally warm. The snow had melted weeks before and the ground was dry and hard, the perfect setting for the forthcoming joust between the two knights. Amery viewed the coming of morning from the window of his room, already dressed and preparing to take Conan to an open field at the edge of town where he would work the mighty destrier in full armor to reacquaint the charger with the feel of such heavy weight upon his back. The joust was set to take place when the sun was at its highest point, but anxious to begin, Amery had awakened before dawn and had spent the following hour lying in bed staring up at the ceiling above him. He, Jewel, Gunther and Lady Anne, Rickward and Stafford, and the maid, Leta, had come to London the day before and taken rooms at an inn not far from the royal palace. At Jewel's insistence, she and her maid had chosen separate quarters at the end of the hall from Amery's— for appearance's sake, she had begged, but also to allow him the full concentration he needed to ready himself for the contest, as well as grant him a night of undisturbed rest. He had argued, telling her that it wasn't safe for her not to be under his protection, while, in truth, the thought of spending even a moment without her was more disturbing than any sleep he might
have missed with her wrapped in his arms. But rather than debate the issue, he had relented, vowing that once this whole affair was over, they would be together for the rest of their lives.

  Last eve, while they had supped, Rickward had come with news that Radolf, Lady Edlyn, and a party of six more had arrived in London and had taken rooms at another inn not far from the one Amery had chosen. With the announcement, Amery had lost his appetite for food and had ventured to his room alone, claiming that he intended to retire early, then rise at first light to take Conan to the practice field. That had been part of it, but the truth of it was that no matter how many evil things his half brother had done in his life, Amery was still having difficulty accepting the fact that on the morrow he would have to kill him. He had not fallen asleep until nearly midnight, for he had lain there hopelessly trying to think of some other way to solve their differences. Finally he had tumbled into a fitful slumber only to awaken a few hours later. And now, as he stood by the window, he wished for a moment to speak with Radolf alone. But something inside him warned that his half brother did not feel the same as he, and that their meeting would only end as they usually did—in a bitter argument.

  Turning away from the bright golden light of morning, he picked up his helm and gauntlets from the table and left the room. Below, in the commons, he found Gunther and Stafford sitting at a table sharing a drink, and he paused to question Jewel's whereabouts.

  "She and Anne were summoned to the palace," Gunther remarked. "The dowager queen requested their presence at her pavilion during the joust. 'Tis an honor, and Jewel bid me tell you so."

  "Yea, 'tis an honor," Amery agreed, though it meant he would not see her before the contest began. Suddenly overcome with doubt, he cast his friend a thoughtful look. "Gunther, should this day turn sour—"

  The other quickly raised a hand to stop him. "Clear thy head of such thoughts, Amery. I have ridden by your side through many battles and can say there is no other who sits astride his horse with more confidence or holds his sword with surer hand. Thou wilt rule the day, and the fair Lady Jewel will be thy reward." Rising, he came to stand next to his friend and lay a hand on Amery's broad shoulder. 'Thou goest to fight a coward, one who hides in shadow and listens to the urgings of his mother. He must face you alone, Amery, stripped bare of his protectors. He fights for what is rightfully yours, while thou, in turn, seekest to prove to all who witness it that honor and truth will out. God is with you, friend. Never doubt that."