Kendrick’s arm went around her and drew her back to him. "Go ahead and cry it out, Isabeau. I should not have done this to you, at least yet. I could not deny myself the pleasure of your body any longer. If anyone here is to blame, then ‘tis I who must shoulder it." Moisture rolled down his chest in rivulets as she cried the unwarranted tears. He held her tighter.
She peered up. His face was a composed mask of concern, mingled with another unidentifiable emotion. "Why are you treating me so kindly?"
His forefinger went under her chin and lifted it up a little farther so she was forced to gaze into his eyes. "Because you belong to me, Isabeau, like no other woman. I will do what I must to protect you, including marry you. I have no desire to have any other women. When I see you walking into a room, no other woman exists. For so long, I have fought the idea of marriage and even when," he swallowed hard, "she came along. Now, that is all I desire with you."
Isabeau wiped a tear away as the questions of her mind spun. "She?"
His hand brushed stray flaxen locks of hair out of her face, tucking them safely behind her ears. "There was a woman before you," Kendrick confessed as he drew a ragged breath and cleared his throat, "I was a young lad at the time and completely smitten with her." He looked away for a moment as if to compose his thoughts then turned back. "She was all I thought a woman should be. All went well until I bedded her. I found she was no virgin. I thought it odd at the time since she claimed to be a maiden. In my childish head, I did not care. All was well until I awoke one morning and found her gone. Since she had a penchant for riding early in the morning, I dressed quickly and made my way down to the stable. I found her there, being serviced by four of my squires. In my rage, I beat the squires nearly to death. Afterwards, I questioned her about her reason. She told me I was not man enough for her. I beat her as well in a fit of rage then sent her back to her father or at least the man I thought to be her father."
Her brow furrowed in question. "He was not her father I take it?"
Kendrick shook his head. "Nay, he was not. He was her husband. They sought to dupe me out of my title and money but I bested them. After that, I trusted no woman. I only used them from time to time when the need arose."
"I take it Gardana was one of those women?"
Surprised shock crossed his handsome features. "How do you know?"
Isabeau caressed the side of his face and brushed a tendril of hair from his eyes. "She has threatened me on several occasions and ordered me to avoid you at all costs."
His look deepened into one of concern. "She did not hurt you, did she? If she ever lays a hand on you, tell me. I will see to it she is sent to the furthest corner of England."
"I can take care of myself against her. She means nothing. Come let us speak of her no more." Inside of her mind, she heard a tiny clank, almost as though rocks clashed together for some unknown reason. Could it be that a fragile wall of trust constructed itself without her knowledge?
* * * *
Kendrick’s heart felt as though it lived again after so many years of death. He pulled Isabeau closer as her tide of tears ebbed. After Bregonia, he thought no woman would ever be worthy of his love again. Now he had found one that was.
Isabeau relaxed her soft body against him, her flesh warm and inviting. Unable to resist, Kendrick stroked her face softly as she peered up at him under a fan of golden lashes and stared at him through the clearest of blue eyes. Oh how he wanted to lose himself in those depths! I am falling in love with her. Never in his life had he met a woman with as much backbone as Isabeau. Any other woman would have been cowering before him now.
The question was how would he convince her to marry him? He grinned broadly. There was only one way. That was to get her with child as quickly as possible. Surely, all the lovemaking within the last day would create a babe. No matter how long it takes, she will bear my child and become my wife. It would be relatively easy. With Isabeau by his side, his ardor was always aroused.
* * * *
Gardana’s eyes swam in the fury coursing throughout her veins as she gazed on the image of the Duke and Isabeau locked in a loving stare. Her hands, on either side of the crystal sphere, shook the ball with the wrath in her body. How could this have happened? The silver holder under the sphere trembled with her fury as well, sending tremors through the purple hued fabric covering the table.
"Halden! Have you concocted that potion yet?" Gardana growled over her coarse brown clad shoulder as she continued to stare at the lovers. Her temples pounded with her rage and her vision blurred a little. This must be stopped!
Halden moved about in a slow gait behind her. His feet never left the ground as he shuffled through the room. The soft rasps of his leather shoes against the wooden floor were almost more than she could bear.
She whirled around in such a quick manner that it caused her ebony braid to land over her shoulder like a dark lash. "Are you deaf, man? Have you concocted the potion yet?" Her shout ricocheted around the room but seemed to have little effect on him.
Halden continued to pour beakers of this and bottles of that into the ancient onyx cauldron bubbling nicely over the fire. Strands of fiery red hair swung with the methodical movements while his lips murmured strange words and phrases. Gardana was about to open her mouth again when his upraised hand stopped her. What was he up to?
He worked for another silent moment then peered up at her with a twinkle in his eyes. "What do you think I am doing? This is the next to last ingredient," he stated as he held up a gruesome liquid in a green tinted bottle. "The last one will be the stillborn infant’s blood. Did you obtain it?"
Her lips pulled into a wide grin. With a surreptitious hand, Gardana pulled a dark crimson beaker from the pocket of her apron and handed it to him with a flourish. "Here is what you need."
Halden gazed the large bottle in amazement as his gnarled hands took it from hers. "I did not need this much, Gardana. Only a few drops are required."
"I care not, Halden. That way, if something happens and we need to make more, we have the means with which to do it."
A fiery eyebrow rose. "Who was the unlucky victim?"
Gardana laughed heartily. "Let us just say the brat’s father is next in line for the English throne."
Stricken concern crossed Halden’s haggard features. "You mean you took poor Mary’s baby?"
She nodded. "The Prince of Wales declared the child not to be his so I took care of his problem and poor Mary as well. It seems the little wench could not take the death of her infant and hung herself in the stable," she mused as her finger tapped her chin pensively, "so one could say the Prince owes me for what I have done. Perhaps before I am through, I will have to collect."
"Be careful, Gardana. You could soon find yourself playing with fire."
Gardana tossed her dark braid behind her with a reckless swing as her body shook with determined laughter. "The only one who will be playing with fire is you if you do not follow through with my plan," she ordered as her eyes narrowed, "You will get burned if you are not careful. I know all of your secrets, Halden. Remember that."
Halden tilted his head in a silent nod and uncorked the bottle. Tipping it over, he let several drops of the infant’s blood fall into the noxious brew. The vital fluid melded in with the rest of the potion and became an everlasting part of it. She smiled. There was no stopping her now. The blonde woman would lay cold in her grave before long.
Chapter 11
Isabeau sat on the semi flat gray rock enraptured with the sight of Kendrick. His broad back was to her as he packed the last of the belongings on his large horse, the material of his tunic stretched to the limit as he moved. Strands of glossy black hair streamed over his shoulders, the ends dancing on the breeze wafting through the valley. His actions were calculated and smooth, almost like his caress on her body last night. Light tremors coursed through her. Even the sight of him was more than enough to bring out those feelings of desire.
Soft grass tickled her ankles w
ith each blow of the wind and she let out a satisfied sigh. The deep, masculine scent of him perfumed the air and gave rise to the faint stirrings of desire humming in her veins. Her beast was fully awake now, aware of everything Kendrick did or said. No wonder she trembled around him.
His strong hands secured the packs to the horse, tucking them securely behind the saddle. In a dreamy oblivion, she continued to watch him, the heel of her hand supporting her chin while her damask clad thigh supported her elbow. How was it his body was this magnificent? Years of military training developed the necessary muscles and added to his already dark beauty. Deep within the secret confines of her mind, she peeled the tunic from his strong shoulders....
Kendrick tugged on the strong strings of rope then turned to her. His full, sensuous lips curled upwards in a devilish grin, his hand flicking the errant tendrils of hair over his shoulder. "Are you ready to return to Henstrige?"
With a reluctant heart, she rose from the rock and stretched to her fullest extent. The throb between her legs after the first night had ebbed away just as he promised though her thighs still ached from all the activity they had received over the last few days. "Aye, that I am, milord," she sighed, casting one last look around her. "This is a truly beautiful place. I shall never forget it." It was the truth. She would never forget this place. Etched on the fabric of her mind was the sound of the tall oak trees as the broad leaves rustled over head as she climbed the heights of ecstasy. Nor could she forget the cry of the wolf after their culmination or the way the furs felt against the naked flesh of her back. Nay, this would always be the place of her lost innocence.
His arms extended outwards and she went to them reluctantly and curved against the gentle velvet of his tunic, nuzzling her cheek against its softness. "Nor will I, little one," he murmured as the strong limbs wrapped around her for a tight embrace. "This will always be special to me, more than anything else in our lives. Perhaps we will bring our children here when they are old enough."
Children. The very thought sent hurtling screams through her form to her brain. Nay, she could not and would not bear him children. It was bad enough he had claimed her body without benefit of marriage, no matter how badly she wanted to succumb. She would not submit over and over again no matter how much her body demanded it.
Kendrick sensed her silence and tilted her head up to meet his eyes. She gazed long and hard into swirling depths of emotion. "Do you not agree, Isabeau?"
She pulled away from his stare, choosing instead to look out toward the verdant field of green. Trees swayed as the loose leaves fluttered, some falling then riding the wind. She watched one leaf in particular as it moved upwards. At least it was free, unlike her. If only she could return to Castile! That way she could keep what little sense of chastity she had left.
"Isabeau, answer me."
She turned her head back. His austere expression greeted her as anger and pain mixed with raw hurt swept over his face. Inwardly, she felt a stab of regret. Though she hated her captivity, she did not want to inflict more pain on an already wounded heart. "Aye, milord. That would be wonderful." She knew it was a lie but something inside her wanted to protect him from pain, just as he did her.
His lips brushed her forehead, sending splinters of excitement racing throughout her body. "Good. I am glad we are in agreement. Let us return to Henstrige where we belong." Before she could answer him, Kendrick scooped her up in the strong circle of his arms and placed her on the saddle, sliding in behind her.
Before he urged the animal onward, Isabeau felt a leather glove slip under her chin and turn her face to his. His gaze raked over her face for a moment as if to drink in her features then his lips made a swift descent. Shivers of anticipation raced up her veins and spread throughout her body like a wild river. Trembling replaced the shivers and moved out to each limb. Her mind knew she should stop but her body decided otherwise.
Kendrick pulled away and touched the tip of her nose with his leather-clad index finger, the material rough and coarse on her skin. "I know you were enjoying yourself, Isabeau but I was losing control and would be having you again."
She blinked in a wild motion as her chest heaved. "Aye, we must return before a search party is sent for us." Isabeau turned her head back to the wide expanse of emerald as her hand went to her chest. Before them lay a wonderful world as they sat on the ride. Majestic mountains sprang up from the earth, their snow covered tops barely visible through the thick bank of misty white fog, on either side of the large lake. In its waters resided the mountain’s image, the exact opposite, disturbed only by the occasional swish of a tail as the school of fish fed on nearby fry. Valleys and hills abounded, covered in the plushest fabric of grass. Wildflowers dotted the countryside and bathed the ground in shades of pink, lavender and blue as well as yellow. Isabeau sighed. What was to become of her now?
* * * *
Edmund was seated behind the large oak dining table with the scarred top, his arms on the bright crimson padded armrests with a sour expression on his face as Kendrick entered. A thin elbow was propped on the chair while slender fingers tapped a pensive chin. He should have expected that Edmund would be waiting to hear news of Isabeau.
With a stoic expression on his face to hide the tide of anger that swelled at having to face an assault of questions, Kendrick strode in. He pulled out the chair next to Edmund and sat down, not casting a glance to his brother. He was in no mood for games.
Edmund leaned back and threw his free, purple clad arm over the back of the chair and stared with the eyes of a hungry predator. "Well, I see you are back from your travails with the Queen. Tell me, has she melted in her arms as you have predicted?"
A muscle flickered in his jaw as he turned to face his brother. "’Tis none of your business, Edmund. What transpired is between Isabeau and I." Under the table his hands clenched in fury, then unfurled. He looked down. Imprinted deep in the pink flesh of his palms were several white crescents below his knuckles made from the edges of his nails. Did he press that hard into the yielding flesh? He did. The thought of losing Isabeau over a silly gamble infuriated him to no end despite the fact he was the one who made it.
Raucous mirth erupted from Edmund, filling the large stone room and rumbling from the rafters. "Aye, but it is my business, Kendrick. We made a deal so ‘tis time for you to tell me to the truth. Have you broken the Queen?"
Kendrick stared down at the table as the heat from his wrath crept across his face. Let Edmund have the damn horse but he does not need to know about Isabeau. He just could not bring himself to shame her in any way. "Take the horse, Edmund and the gold. The gamble is over," he growled as he turned to face the sullen damask clothed man at the end of the table. "I do not wish to bring harm to Isabeau!"
Edmund leapt from his chair and whirled around the room as though the devil entered his body. "I knew it! You did melt her! That chivalrous knight inside of you would not shame her no matter how much she hated you. Now that you have broken her," he preened from his spot, "it saves me the trouble. May I have her when you are through with her?"
The wall holding Kendrick’s anger at bay burst without recourse and his fury spilled over. He leapt from his chair with a vicious speed and closed the distance between them. His large hands locked onto Edmund’s tunic, the folds of the rich material spilling through his fingers. With a shove, Edmund was backed against the wall and halfway up. "Isabeau belongs to me, brother, and no man that touches her will be allowed to live, including you. She will never know about this gamble of ours. If she does find out and I learn that it came from you, I cannot be responsible for my actions. Am I understood?" He meant it. If he ever lost Isabeau because of Edmund, he knew he would not hesitate in killing his brother even if it meant his own death. In a way, life without the light of Isabeau would be a waking death.
Edmund stared at him through terrorized eyes as thin hands clamped onto his thick wrists. "Aye ... Kendrick...." he choked, "she ... will ... never ... hear it ... from ... me. Now pu
t me down!" Slender fingers clawed at a frantic pace at his arms. He released Edmund. His brother fell to the floor and coughed in a wild fashion. "You can have the wench! She is not worth the effort."
He shook his dark head. "Nay, she is worth the effort, my brother, but that is something you will never know."
Edmund’s booted feet drew up as he coughed once more then he moved toward the wall again where he could lean his back against it. His hands fell into the valley of his lap created when he crossed his ankles. "Forgive me, Kendrick. I thought you would treat the slave as you have the others in the past so that is why I inquired about her."
Kendrick resumed his seat and shifted to get more comfortable. "She is different than the others, I assure you." His hands went behind his head. He could ponder all day on what made her different but he kept that to himself. Edmund did not need to know his every waking emotion.
A quizzical fawn hued eyebrow rose as Edmund’s hand ran through his unruly curls. "How so? One woman is pretty much like another once your hand is under her gown," he commiserated in a sour tone as one knee drew up and he rested his elbow on the leather-clad limb.
He turned to face to Edmund. "That is what you think, my brother."
Edmund’s expression darkened. "You have enjoyed the pursuit of women just as much as I have, Kendrick! Do not tell me you have fallen in love with the girl!"
Kendrick remained silent for a moment as he pondered Edmund’s words then cast his gaze to the timbered ceiling, criss-crossed with sturdy wooden beams. It was something he had not considered, at least until Edmund spoke of it. Never before had his life been this complete with a woman nor had he possessed a desire to keep one in his bed at all times. Aye, it was love. Her face was the only one he wanted to fall asleep to at night and wake to in the morning.
A smile turned the corners of his unshaven mouth. "Aye, that I have, Edmund. When she will agree, I will marry her."
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