A Stormy Knight

by Amy Mullen

  "Have you always been so jumpy?" He laughed and then swiftly got back to the reason for this visit. "We need to talk about some changes that have been made due to the danger around us."

  She forgot her anger for a moment as worry flooded over her. "Has someone else been hurt?"

  "Nay. I want you to know what has become of some of your people. You seem so worried about them. They have been sent out to the village and will return here once this situation has been resolved. It is a regrettable step but is necessary. Temporary housing for them is being erected as we speak. Those who have been here a while shall stay, but they are being watched."

  "It sounds so harsh," she choked out as she imagined those she had grown to care about being pushed from the walls of the castle as if they were being punished. Their sad faces were already haunting her. Then, after a moment, thinking of her father lying in his bed, she added, "but I do understand."

  "Finally, something we agree on," Nicholas said and then gestured toward the bed. "Wear that. I wish to have a beautiful bride, and it should complement your looks. We may not care much for each other, but our marriage will be adventurous for both of us."

  As quickly as he arrived, he left her alone.

  Upon the bed sat the most beautiful cloak she had ever seen, green in color, rich with embroidery, and edged with fur. It was a gift fit for a queen.

  "Milady?" a feminine voice said from out in the passageway, "is it safe to enter?"

  Gemma instantly recognized Leda's voice and waved her in.

  "I had a few moments and thought I should talk with ye," Leda started and then faltered. "Isabel be with Hesse in the kitchen, so I thought we could talk."

  "Is this about the changes Nicholas is making? I assure you he is doing this for our benefit. Things shall return to normal soon I pray."

  "Nay, milady," The cook took another step into the room and lowered her voice. "I came about yer marriage."

  "Oh?" Gemma said, surprised. "What is it? Feel free to speak your mind." She gestured to the bed for Leda to sit down.

  "What a beautiful cloak!" she said as she sat upon the bed and lifted it up. Carefully, she allowed the satin material to run over the rough tips of her fingers. "'Tis the most beautiful I have ever seen." With a sigh, Gemma sat and silently nodded. Leda was right. She had never seen anything like it.

  "A gift from yer intended, milady?" she asked, still feeling the material as if she was mesmerized and could not put it down.

  "Aye, it is, though I am not sure why," Gemma admitted. "What did you want to see me about?"

  "Yer mum is not here, and a mother is so important before a marriage," she started, shifting uncomfortably. "I thought mayhap I could help. I married off two of three daughters ye know, and I fear going into this marriage blindly will be bad for ye."

  "I see," Gemma eyed the cloak, afraid to touch it as intimately as Leda had. "I do not know much about marriage, though I certainly know the marriage bed is something to be feared."

  "Milady, that is most certainly true in some cases, but I think ye have nothing to fear with yer intended. He seems gruff I know and acts like a knave near ye, but he has been nothing but kind and patient with the servants. He even makes time for Isabel when ye are not near. They be smitten with each other."

  This was news to her. "He has been kind?"

  "Most kind." Leda's head bobbed up and down excitedly. "We all think he be a kind man, milady, and though ye are butting heads now, everyone senses this is a good match if ye could only put aside yer differences."

  "Indeed," Gemma said, taking in all Leda had said. "So he only treats me with such distaste. Lovely. How is a wife to handle such a thing? What am I to do? I do not trust him. He once betrayed our family…"

  "Milady," she interrupted. "I have been around as long as ye have been living. Ye may not realize it, but I knew of ye leaving the castle on occasion to meet up with Nicholas. I tried not to spy, but I stayed nearby until ye returned to yer bed. I love ye like a daughter I do, and I knew true love when I saw it. I did not tell yer father, but I now think I should have. I now be certain I failed ye in not telling 'im. It just reminded me of how I met my husband. I should have told, and things for ye might be so different right now."

  Shock registered in Gemma's mind as she took in what Leda had just said. She knew! Gemma began speaking as quickly and as quietly as she could. "Are you sure you told no one? Are you sure Father did not know? Do you know what happened and why his parents were taken?"

  "I am sure yer father never knew. Had he, he would have put a stop to it at once, milady. And nay, I do not know much more than that. I just meant to watch over and protect ye and did not sleep much during that time, wondering when ye might sneak out again."

  "I am sorry to have worried you so, and I do appreciate that you did what you did. I wish Nicholas would know what you have just told me. Mayhap he would see our family meant him no harm, and I did indeed care for him once. He is so angry, and he won't hear anything I say."

  "'It be impossible to change yer past," the cook shook her head. "Ye and yer husband-to-be need to be open and work toward truth. Truth is often all we have. Oliver says the marriage must happen. 'Twould be in yer best interest to make it a happy union."

  "If only I knew he and his family did not betray us. If only I knew. Then 'twould be easier to start over again to learn about one another."

  "Mayhap time will reveal what ye both need ta know," Leda said with a knowing nod. "Now, milady, would ye like to know more about the marriage bed? Ye may not be so scared if ye know what to expect."

  Gemma agreed. She may as well hear what would become of her on her wedding night.

  She was shaking by the time Leda was done talking and excused herself to go back to her kitchen duties. As much as Gemma did not want to admit it, she partly enjoyed the kiss she shared with Nicholas, but after what she had just heard, she was certain she wanted no part of the physical aspects of being married to him, or any man for that matter.

  The wedding was fast approaching, her father was getting better, but nothing seemed right. Her conversation with Leda lifted her spirits a bit for a reason she could not pinpoint. Something had shifted within her, and perhaps she had been a bit too harsh with the man who had come to save her family and to care for her people. Perhaps there was more to the story than either knew.

  Chapter Ten

  The next few days were uneventful. There was a certain peace that settled on Blackstone and all who dwelt within the walls. Nicholas was busy, and Gemma found herself without time to relax as well. She spent time with Isabel, who relentlessly chattered on about the wedding. In her excitement, she managed to talk her older sister into allowing her to pick flowers for the ceremony.

  Their wedding would be as simple and quick as possible, and there would be a great feast after the mass and the vows. They had no time to cry the banns, but many guests were expected. It was also a tense time. Everyone would be distracted on the wedding day. Nicolas worked tirelessly to be sure all ends were tied and all who were invited were going to be happy, but at the same time, someone would always be watching.

  Gavin's fate was still a mystery. He had disappeared without a trace. Gemma longed for answers. The search for him came up empty. Her brother was still missing, and most assumed he had met an untimely end.

  Nicholas had not been around much, but that was about to change. Their wedding was the next day. She was not surprised when he walked boldly into her chambers. He came without a sound that would have betrayed his approach. Willis and Oliver were behind him.

  "Goodness!" she exclaimed as they entered a few steps behind him.

  "Hesse was on the steps, and she assured us you were alone… and clothed," Nicholas smirked and then beckoned toward the other two men. They were both carrying what appeared to be a large trunk.

  "What is this?" She feared the answer.

  "Your quarters are going to be ours. Your brother has a nice enough space, but I feel this room suits
us better. 'Tis away from your father so we may have privacy and a room big enough for our needs."

  Oliver and Willis left only to return with an assortment of items they placed near the trunk. They gave her a quick nod and both left the room.

  She stared at the trunk blankly. It was far roomier than hers and seemed oddly out of place sitting next it. These quarters were hers and hers alone for so long she felt as if her last bit of privacy had just been taken from her. There was something most unsettling about how quickly he had come to invade every corner of her life.

  "You do not mean to rest here this night, do you?" she asked. There was a noticeable quiver in her bottom lip. She thought she had one more night. It would not be decent for him to sleep here before they were wed, not that she guessed what he would ask of her after they wed would be decent either. In a panic, she wondered if she misunderstood something.

  "Worry not, little one," he said as he sprawled out on her enormous bed. "I'll not stay this night, but I thought it best to move my things in here. My wedding clothes are still in the other room, but there is no sense moving things after the feast. We shall have more pleasurable things to do."

  Her throat constricted at the mere mention of what was supposed to happen between them as man and wife. Though Leda had tried to reassure her it could be an experience topped by no other, she believed a pleasurable experience would be reserved for those who were a love match. They might have had a young love once, but that was no more. He was still the enemy, though he seemed a bit less threatening now than he had when he first arrived. His behavior toward her frustrated her. She did not deserve this, and somehow she had to prove that.

  He crossed his arms behind his head and propped his booted feet up on her bed as he studied her. It was not a moment of simple pleasure, but almost as if he enjoyed getting a rise out of her. "I hear your father is doing well. He is drinking water and taking in broth. I spoke with him today about our marriage. He cannot yet walk, but he is feeling some strength back. He shall be carried down to the chapel tomorrow to see us wed."

  "Father must not be moved until he is well! We do not yet know what happened to him. What if that is too much for him?" She moved away from the bed, backing up against the wall. She feared he would spring up from the bed to grab her and drag her down into a compromising position.

  "'Twould appear Blaise de Vere is a rugged man. He recovers quickly. Your priest is most certain it was poison that took him down. He has no physical symptoms of any other malady. Your father must have drunk enough to almost kill him, but it did not."

  "Thank goodness for that," she said, crossing her arms over her chest nervously.

  "And," he continued, as if she had not spoken a word. "He seems fine with our marriage and does not feel up to all that needs to be done. He seems downright grateful someone is taking charge since your brother never arrived. In fact, he has seemed pleasantly surprised to see me, as if there was never any ill will."

  "Why should that shock you?" she said, her voice rising. "My father never hated you. Even when he thought your family was trying to betray us, he never spoke an ill word about it after it happened."

  "Then why do you hold such a grudge over the imaginary thing my family was supposed to have done?" He sat up a bit with his elbows behind him, holding up his torso. He stared straight at her as if daring her not to answer.

  His body was certainly much unlike that of Phillip Bigod. Nicholas was lean but muscular and moved with a grace Phillip could never hope to have. The urge to stare at his face was overpowering. It was so familiar but more mature now. To stare at him for too long was like staring at the sun. She had been holding her breath as she studied him, and she spun away to let the pent-up air escape from her lungs.

  He endured her silence and then let out a chuckle as he surveyed the room. "I told you going over the same old argument between us will do us no good. We shall learn to agree to disagree with each other, and that will be how it is in our marriage."

  Before she could respond, he jumped up from the bed and stepped to her. "I shall leave you be now, but do not fear. I will know where you are at all times should you decide to run. You will not get far." He grabbed her shoulders, and she flinched. He lowered his head toward hers.

  She gasped as she realized he was about to kiss her again. Something in her warned her to fight, but she found herself moving in as he leaned down. A lingering scent took her back in time. His essence was familiar. It had matured as he had but was still the same. Lips, soft and warm, touched hers. He slipped his tongue between her lips with urgency, encouraging them to open as well.

  She shuddered as his tongue met hers. Something strange happened within her as she forgot she hated him and marveled at the sensations moving through her body. The feelings were new but not entirely unwelcome. His hand moved down her body, softly skimming the curve in the small of her back. He abruptly pulled her closer to him.

  The kiss intensified, and she found her limbs had a mind of their own. Her hand reached up and gently touched the back of his neck. She leaned in without realizing it, allowing her body to meld against his. It felt right being close to him. His other hand released her shoulder and moved down her arm, sending a zing of electricity up her spine as her stomach tightened.

  His breath was hot, charging the air around them. He moved his hand up her flat stomach, moving higher. She stiffened. A spell wove around them. He moved down to her bare shoulder with his lips, slowly sampling the sweetness of her skin. The closeness warmed her, causing a tingle that shot through her like a lightning strike.

  She moaned without realizing it, and her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. His hand deftly encircled her shoulder. An urge she could not name erupted, an urge so strong it was almost painful. Alarmed, she threw herself backward out of his embrace. Trembling, she fell to the floor with her feet tucked underneath her kirtle.

  For a moment, Nicholas seemed startled and dazed. He snapped out of it quickly with a frown and backed away.

  "Yes, that will do nicely," he said simply and walked out of the room as if he did not have a care in the world.

  ****

  Nicholas went to his temporary quarters, now empty except for the bed. He was as unsettled as he had ever been because of that woman. In need of a distraction, he ordered his squire to inquire about a bath, but he did not want it warm. It had to be cold. That was the only thing that was going to ease his misery. Gemma may have ruined his life, but she was the only woman who drove him to distraction just by walking near him. The kiss he just shared with her all but put him over the edge, and he was no longer sure he was in control.

  He took the steps quickly and walked down into the great hall. All was quiet there, except for a few servants getting ready to retire for the night. The fire was almost out. The air was cool, and the crickets hummed in the bailey outside. It would have been a great night to sit and look up at the stars after a long, hot day. He always enjoyed being outside at night. The air was always crisp, cool, and invigorating just an hour after the sunset.

  In the crisp night air he tried to focus on the last death at the castle. Thorough inspection of the ale the young girl drank turned up nothing useful. There was no tell-tale smell of poison or anything amiss with the liquid. He had spilled it on a dark cloth, hoping something would be left behind as the ale dried, but there was nothing. Short of asking someone to drink it, there was no other way he knew to detect poison. The people here were in real danger, and he had to make it a priority to stop it.

  Out of nowhere an image of Gemma sitting in the grass next to him, sharing a skin of wine intruded, and he lost his train of thought. Curse that woman! He came here bent on his revenge. The opportunity to get satisfaction for the wrong done to his family had fallen into his lap. Now, that little wisp of a woman was threatening all of that. He expected to enjoy her body, but all he could remember was how good he felt around her all those years ago. His betrothed was still the same in spirit, which was what had attracted h
im to her in the beginning. Everything about her seemed tenuous and fragile, but she hid within her an incredible strength. The mix was intoxicating.

  He decided to clear his head by going to each of the towers for a status report. Normally, he would summon Willis to take care of it, but the activity would do him good. As he walked, he tried to return his mind to business. It was for naught. She wiggled into his thoughts no matter how hard he tried to banish her.

  How could such a woman with her quiet defiance and her questionable past encompass his thinking so deeply and completely? He was determined to hate her and to make her squirm, but that feeling was slowly losing its delicious flavor. No matter how cold he was toward her, she was weaving a spell over him all over again.

  Reports from his men reassured him all was well. He sensed trouble tomorrow, and he would come down hard on anyone who dared stand in his way. Blackstone would be his home. He deserved some luck and the chance to avenge what was done to his parents. They were free now, but that wasn't enough. It was imperative he keep his thoughts straight and remember why he was there.

  Blaise was an issue. He did not react to the news of the marriage in the way Nicholas expected. Instead of becoming irate, the older man seemed relieved. The old lord was still terribly ill, but the reaction was authentic. Nicholas was down one suspect. Had the elder de Vere been behind the lie that destroyed his family, he would have objected, but he had not. How could a man seek revenge when he was unsure of his target?

  Then who? Did this mean he had been living a lie this entire time? He directed his anger at Gemma and her father without question. There was more at play than he had realized, but now, things were changing. It was hard for him to admit his anger might have been misplaced all these years.

  He didn't want to be wrong, but the evidence thus far suggested otherwise. However, he considered different possibilities, but none came to mind. Perhaps Gemma had told someone different, someone else with an agenda. The more he thought about it the more he knew it was not Blaise. The old man would not agree to a marriage now had he opposed it so venomously in the past. Could Gemma be innocent too?