by Quinn, Paula
“Miss Feathers is my guest,” Nicholas told him.
“Your guest?” The bishop gaped for a moment and then composed himself and took Julianna’s hand. “First, let me express my sincerest condolences, my dear. I knew your father through various meetings attended by King Edward’s closest advisors for peace.”
“Peace through the Scottish nobles’ surrender,” Nicholas pointed out soberly.
“I know those days are over, Son, but we must find another way to secure it. Peace still needs to reign,” the bishop said and returned his attention to Julianna. “Tell me, Miss Feathers, what are you doing here in a castle full of Scots when they are the ones who sacked Berwick and killed your father?”
“I seek peace as you do, Your Excellency,” she replied. “The Lord of Rothbury and I have been friends for many years.”
“This is wonderful!” the bishop exclaimed. “When the English see that you are both friends, ’twill be a nice example that we can get along.”
Nicholas agreed—if that’s what the bishop wanted. What Nicholas wanted was to do what was expected of him and get everyone out. He wanted to get back to life with his son…and Julianna. Could they be happy? Would they be miserable?
“I see your face in the boy,” the bishop remarked while his attendant pushed his chair closer to the table. “I was sorry to learn of your wife’s death.”
“Aye, ’twas a difficult time,” Nicholas said quietly.
“But the time has passed, eh, whelp?” the bishop smiled at him and then at Julianna. “Let us speak of this—” he motioned with his finger back and forth between them, “—friendship later.”
Nicholas looked heavenward and let out a short laugh. “Aye, later, when I will be listening to you rather than to the sweet melody of my English lady’s voice.”
“Um, hmm.” The bishop narrowed his eyes on Nicholas and nodded. “You are correct. I have invited an important guest here tonight. I would like him to see the two of you together. Do everything you must to give us reason to celebrate, eh?”
Nicholas passed her a sickened glance. He was sorry he’d gotten her into this. She should not have come to his table. He didn’t like that the bishop knew who she was. It meant that he knew Nicholas had been her servant. What would it say about it to the English? The Scots?
The bishop’s guest turned out to be Thomas, Earl of Lancaster. The Scots in attendance were surprised and troubled to learn he was cousin to England’s King Edward. The earl was quick to reassure all that he was here as Edward’s enemy.
“Ye mean, a traitor!” someone called out.
“I stand against everything Edward stands for,” Lancaster called out to them.
He was a man of small stature, with a wiry physique built more for running than for standing firm on a battlefield.
“He is a tyrant who does not only terrorize the Scots, but his own countrymen, as well. There are many of us who will stand with you and your king in battle.”
“We would prefer peace,” the bishop spoke up.
“Your Excellency,” Lancaster turned to him. “Edward does not want peace. He will never agree to a treaty with you. I have seventy-two witnesses who have heard him say it.”
Whether Nicholas liked or respected Thomas of Lancaster was unimportant. None of them were surprised that Edward didn’t want peace. He was a fool. He also never fought in any of the battles he caused.
“Who are the others that stand with you?” Nicholas asked. “We will require names before we can trust you. You understand.”
The bishop and the other Scots agreed.
“Of course,” Lancaster agreed. “Edward will need to be defeated. He will never support Robert as King of the Scots. After you defeat him, there will be peace. I can guarantee it.”
“How?” Bellington asked.
“Because I will rule,” Lancaster claimed.
“As you ruled after Bannockburn?” Nicholas called out. “Your attempt to govern then failed and after four years and much of the northern territories reclaimed by the Scots, you were asked to relinquish power. So,” Nicholas said and let his son climb back into Julianna’s lap, “how can we take your word that your barons will allow you to rule again. And if you do, that you will support Robert?”
“You will have to trust me.”
Nicholas smiled. “We will need more than that.”
He waited while the earl thought about it. He was thankful the bishop trusted his judgment. Douglas FitzGerald trusted Cain and Torin for the king’s sake. But he knew Nicholas. Nicholas had sat with him at meetings like this one and had proven himself loyal and worthy.
“I will arrange for the other barons who stand with me to come to our next meeting.”
“That will do,” the bishop announced, putting an end to the talks.
The rest of the evening passed at a snail’s pace, especially when Elias fell asleep in Julianna’s arms and quit being a source of entertainment for everyone sitting close to him. It turned into a blessing in disguise when Julianna asked for his help carrying his son to bed.
“I owe you something wonderful for getting me out of there,” he vowed to her as they walked to Elias’ room.
“After you put him to bed,” Julianna said with that same alluring blush to her cheeks, “you may kiss me goodnight.”
Chapter Thirteen
Julianna watched Nicholas bend to lay his son down. Her breath came in short little gasps that made her feel lightheaded and giddy. He looked so handsome in his military coat that she could scarcely breathe. She’d asked him for a kiss. How could she have been so bold? She didn’t care how bold she was. She liked it. Nicholas liked it. He didn’t have to say it. The fire in his eyes spoke volumes. He desired her. It excited her and frightened her at the same time. She was afraid of being intimate with him. She knew he would be nothing like Phillip, if they married…in the spring. She closed her eyes remembering his playful replies that had suddenly become serious. Had he been? Her heart sped and her belly flipped and burned. She wrung her hands together while she waited for him to bid Elias goodnight.
Why had she asked him to kiss her? Why did she feel like an inexperienced virgin when she was not? She had been married, and forgetting Phillip, she had kissed Nicholas before. Yet it was as if she had just met him, as if he had never touched her before that moment.
He straightened from seeing to his son and turned to her.
Her heart leaped in her chest. She wanted this intimacy with him, no matter how it frightened her. This was the man she trusted, the man she’d known her whole life, but could never have. Now, she could have him.
“Come,” he said in his low, bewitching voice, taking her hand. “I will escort you to your chambers.”
She wondered while they walked how the simple act of holding his hand could almost be the thing to bring her to her knees. For Julianna, there was nothing more intimate than taking her hand and walking with her. She loved how big he felt beside her, the way his gait felt against her, making his arm brush her shoulder or his hand touch her hip. She loved how possessive his taking hold of her hand felt. Her nerve endings sizzled with desire for more with him, of him.
When they came to her door, he took her hands in his. He kissed her knuckles and let his lips linger on her while he looked up from beneath his dark brows and whispered against her skin. “I miss kissing you, Julianna.” He turned her wrist over, exposing the inside to his teasing lips.
She closed her eyes, though watching him in the golden glow of the torchlit walls was almost just as pleasing as his mouth.
He stopped and lifted her wrist around his neck. She opened her eyes to gaze into his and tried not to groan out loud, but failed. She was tempted to call him William because that’s who she remembered loving. But he wasn’t William anymore. He was Nicholas, the brooding father, a broken, angry, detached man with a shield around his heart. A man who ran from her when things felt serious. A man whose words now carried weight with others. A man she was falling in love wi
th all over again.
His warm breath fell against her nose, her lips while he touched her face with his fingers as if to convince himself that she was really here, with him. Then, he ran his hands down her back, around her waist. He pulled her in. She fit everywhere against his hard planes. She was certain he could feel her thumping heart battering, wanting to burst free and throw itself at his feet. She bent backward just a bit, but he enveloped her like smoke, allowing her to feel the thrashing tempo of his heart, keeping pace with…no, surpassing hers.
His mouth descended on her throat first, devouring her with soft, eager lips, and salacious strokes with his tongue that made her forget her fears and burn with desire instead.
She lifted her hands and ran her fingers over his shoulders then up the sides of his head. She closed her fingers through his hair and tugged softly, directing his mouth to hers. She wanted to be kissed, and only with Nicholas could she be so bold. It felt good, wonderful, in fact.
He dragged his mouth to hers, open and hungry, and covered her in rapture. His kiss sapped the strength from her knees but, thankfully, his embrace was complete. All she had to do was keep her arms around his neck.
When he’d first kissed her four years ago, his arms were cautious, his mouth, inexperienced. But, oh now, he held her with a perfect blend of strength and tenderness. Now, his mouth tempted and teased. His tongue laid siege to her defenses, her fears with slow, tender strokes and a dance to a melody only they could hear. She wanted more. She needed it.
But he was withdrawing, leaving her panting.
She opened her eyes and met his gaze. He smiled, though his jaw was clenched as if it took everything he possessed not to pull her back.
“Goodnight, lass,” he whispered along her ear, sending fiery sparks through her blood.
He backed away with a resigned smile fixed on his face, and left her.
Julianna wanted to bring him back, but she knew it was not wise. They would end up in bed, and as much as she innately wanted what came next with him, she didn’t want the disgrace of being caught, unmarried.
So she let him go, bolted the door, and dressed down to her chemise. Thanks to Margaret’s crafty expertise, making her back laces long enough for Julianna to reach and undress herself.
She thought of Nicholas’ hot mouth covering hers, his hands on her, holding her close, as though she were treasured. Oh, she prayed it was so and climbed into bed.
A short while later, she heard Elias crying. She rose from her bed and hurried to him.
“What is this?” she questioned in a gentle tone while she climbed in beside him. “Why are you crying?”
His cries did not intensify, but they continued. Julianna guessed the poor babe had had a bad dream. “Do not be afraid, my love,” she cooed, holding him close. “All is well.”
She remembered something Berengaria had done for her when she had bad dreams. She began to hum and then to sing in a soft voice. She sang an old ballad her nurse had taught her about a very old woman remembering the love of her youth.
Then old Maggie Brown,
Put leaves in her crown,
With a leap in her step,
And a song on her lips
She danced to the edge of the cliffs.
Oh youth, how lovely were your days?
Oh joy, my path was always brighter with you there,
Oh love, stay beside me, stay beside me here.
Julianna sang softly. In her darkest days when she’d given up hope, she remembered this song. It helped her to believe that she and Nicholas would be together when they died. She used to think the song was about her. She no longer did. She had William back. She was given a second chance. As she rested her head, she was tempted to leap up and find him to make certain nothing terrible happened to him ever again.
Julianna opened her eyes the next morn and looked up at Elias, who was sitting up and waiting on her. “Good morn, Elias.”
“Dood morn, Lanna.”
She leaned up on her elbows. “Are you hungry, my love?”
He nodded and rubbed his belly.
She smiled and looked down at herself. She was still in her chemise. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep in here last night. She was going to have to hurry to her chamber to dress. She would take Elias with her.
Unbolting the door, she wondered if Nicholas was up and eating in the great hall. When she stepped out of her room, she found him asleep in a chair by the door.
Had he slept here all night? Why? Had he tried to get in and couldn’t because she had bolted the door?
She reached out and touched his shoulder. “Nicholas,” she said softly. She hated waking him and even more so when he moved and his back and neck cracked.
If he was in any pain, he made no mention of it when he opened his eyes. He looked at her and smiled as if he were seeing her for the first time.
“Good morn,” she greeted, overwhelmed with love for him.
“Dood morn, Papa!” Elias greeted and stepped forward to touch Nicholas’ leg.
Nicholas yawned and then smiled at his son climbing his leg to get to his lap. “Good morn to you, Son.”
“Did you sleep here all night?” Julianna asked him, resting her palms on her knees to look him in the eyes.
Remnants of love and warmth for his son painted his eyes in shades of pale gray splashed across starlight. She thought he was the most perfect being she’d ever seen first thing in the morning.
“Aye, I heard you singing.”
She glanced away, smiling modestly. “Oh no. Do not tell me you listened for longer than a moment. I have a terrible singing voice. I hope—”
“Berengaria used to sing that ballad to me when I could not sleep.”
Julianna’s heart melted over him. He’d heard her singing and came to rest.
She wanted to tell him that she wanted to marry him, to be his wife, to be his. She didn’t care if she was a woman and women did not propose to men. She kicked rules out of her way.
“Nicholas?” Would she tell him in her chemise? That was a different rule altogether. “Let me go and dr—”
“Nicky!” Rauf came racing down the hall with Agnes attached to his hand. “We are under siege!” His face was pale and, upon reaching them, he pushed Julianna, along with Elias and Agnes, toward the room.
“Where? How many?” Nicholas demanded, rising to his feet.
“More than what we have,” Rauf advised. “But enough to take them. Our men are preparin’ to fight, alongside the bishop’s men, and the Earl of Lancaster. That is aboot eighty men.” He stared into Nicholas’ eyes. “They will need us.”
“Aye,” Nicholas agreed without hesitation. He turned to Julianna. “Stay here with Elias and Agnes. Bolt the door after we leave.”
“Take us to my rooms, Nicholas,” she pleaded with him with Elias in her arms. “I must not be half-naked if strange men get inside.”
He nodded and swept them all forward to her chamber door.
“Find Margaret and Molly and bring them here,” Julianna begged.
Agnes shook her head. “They left the castle before us. We could not find them.”
“I will find them,” Nicholas promised then turned to go.
Julianna grasped his wrist, stopping him, not by force, for she couldn’t budge him with all her will if he didn’t want to move, but with the slightest pressure. And the slightest whisper. “Come back to me, my love.”
He nodded and came closer. “I will come back for you.”
“Take this.” She placed the hilt of her forbidden dagger in his hand. The blade was sheathed in a leather scabbard. “Use caution not to touch the tip or the edge of the blade, for ’tis laced with poison. Even a scratch will put your enemies to sleep almost instantly.”
He smiled and took the scabbard. He moved in, just close enough to lean in and kiss her. It was a kiss of possession and such tenderness that it brought tears to her eyes.
She watched him lift Elias in his arms next and plant a kiss in
his son’s soft curls. She wanted to cry as he passed Elias over to her. But she didn’t. He would come back to her this time.
When he left, Agnes touched her arm. “Oh, Julianna, how could such a wonderful day for us both turn into a nightmare?”
“It will not, Agnes. All will be well.” It had to be. After an entire life of being apart because of rules and opinions, she would not lose him the day after he kissed her and made her dream of something more with him. Again!
Please, God, not again.
Nicholas ran toward the front doors of the castle in his search for Molly and Margaret. He had checked their chambers just in case they had returned, but the women were not there. He knew the way to the walls so he’d parted ways with Rauf and went the opposite way.
He kept Julianna’s scabbard in his hand, unsure if the enemy had already encroached upon the inner wall.
He left the castle and hurried down the stairs. He searched the grounds looking for them. He searched the shadows and the hen houses. How dangerous was the threat? He had to find out. What about the villagers? His belly turned. Where was the bishop? Lancaster? He had to get back. He needed to know what was out there. Was there still enough time to help the villagers?
The battlements were busy with guardsmen hurrying out and scattering to the four corners with their long bows and arrows.
Nicholas hurried to the wall to look over the situation. There were about three hundred men. Rauf was correct. The guards needed his and Rauf’s help in battle. It would require much determination to win and stamina to see it through.
He’d fought in two small skirmishes for the king before he married Mattie, and in France, with the people of a village in Sainte-Enimie. He was taught to wield a blade by his brother, Cain, and was called fearless in battle by Rauf. But he had nothing to fight for then. Nothing to lose.
Now, he would be even stronger, more determined and ready to fight because he had everything to fight for.
He took up a bow and a quiver from the stack leaning against the wall, aimed over the battlements and began firing. He took down many but they were getting through the outer wall!