by Quinn, Paula
Nicholas had been taken to the private bath, rarely used since Lord Bamburgh was rarely here. He was bathed by two elderly women and then left alone to soak. While the oil-scented water soothed his tired muscles, he did nothing but relax and think about Julianna. She was worth the wait. He was glad that he knew he loved her. He wasn’t walking around pretending there was nothing between them.
If anyone had a problem with them, they needn’t go far to settle it. He was right here.
He still didn’t feel at ease with letting go of his fears of loving her. Part of him still wanted to take off and run. But where could he go that she wouldn’t haunt him?
He left his bath and dressed himself, sending the viscount’s servants away. Bamburgh offered to give him a change of clothes, but Nicholas was too big to fit into anything. He dressed in his own black doublet and boots, and a fresh pair of hose from one of Bamburgh’s men that fit him well. He combed his unruly hair back with a pearly-looking comb.
There came a knock at the door. Nicholas called for them to come in.
Berengaria hurried inside and began cleaning up after him. “Mother, stop. I can do this myself.”
But she kept going.
He sat on the edge of the bed and watched her. His mood was too good to ruin by trying to talk to her. He wanted her back but this wasn’t her. She looked up from her work twice and smiled at him. He thought of all the times when he needed her and she was there. And all the times she wasn’t. He’d been so angry. It was when his most defeating anger was born, when he locked away memories of her, along with parts of himself he never thought to see again.
She tightened then smoothed his bed covers, reminding him of when she used to tuck him into bed at night. Her kisses and whispers of love had soothed him. She’d kept him alive, taught him how to eat correctly and speak, how to use a garderobe. She was there when he attempted something and succeeded or failed, when he was hurt for the first time, when he was ill.
He didn’t realize that a few tears had escaped his eyes until Berengaria looked at him for the fourth time, saw them and came to stand in front of him.
“Why are you weeping, Child?”
He felt his heart swell up with love for her as those words reverberated through his soul. “My mother is gone,” he told her.
She looked concerned and sat on the bed beside him. Was she in her right mind, or not?
She leaned into him and looked up into his eyes. “She is not gone, William.”
“Mother?” he asked with a hopeful heart. Just a few moments. A few moments. Please.
“I never thought I would see you again, William.” She lifted her hand to his temple and ran the back of her hand over his cheek. “You are so handsome. I knew you would be. You would turn the heads of many maidens but Julianna always held your heart.”
She was here. He had her back! He didn’t know what to say first but he knew he had to be quick.
“I’m sorry you suffered and I was not there for you.”
“Oh, but you were there!” she told him, wrapping her arm around his. “You and Julianna were with me every day. Every moment—that I can remember.”
“I will take care of you now. You will come home with me and Julianna.”
She smiled at her name. “Be a good husband to her, William. She was not raised up to be strong. She has led a pampered life. She loves you and she might have to prove it.”
“She has proven it, Mother.” He loosened his arm from hers and closed it around her bony shoulders. She had no idea what had happened to them after she was taken. They had been children. She didn’t know Julianna had married Phillip, her son. Nicholas didn’t want to tell her. Not now.
“Oh, that is good news, Son!” she rejoiced. “Do you have bairns, my boy?”
He nodded. “Elias. He is two.”
She looked around. “Where is he?”
“He was taken to safety by his nurse.”
She asked him questions about Elias and Julianna. And she listened to him tell her about Julianna finding him and saving him from a manmade pit of his own.
He pleaded her forgiveness for many things and she granted it for all. She made him promise to take her with him wherever he lived.
“We have so much to talk about, Will. I would like time with Julianna, too. I have missed her so.”
“She has missed you, too. She speaks of you often.”
He asked her what to do about Phillip. She stopped speaking for a moment. “Then you know?” she asked with her gaze toward the ground.
He nodded, “Aye, Phillip told Julianna. ’Tis why he hates us.”
“He is wretched. His father should have allowed me to raise him.” Her eyes filled with heavy tears that fell into her lap.
Nicholas held her closer, his heart wrenching from its place with compassion for her.
“Perhaps, he needs…perhaps…” She stopped. Her breathing changed against him. Her weeping ceased and she pushed away gently.
“Mother?” he asked, looking into her eyes. There was no recognition there. He let her go and wiped his eyes. He thought he needed to be thankful for each and every moment when he was given them. He felt the rumbling of his soul, the quaking of his heart like mountains shaking around him.
He would never let Julianna go again. He needed to go get his son and bring his family to Invergarry, where he should have grown up. If Rauf ever wanted to follow, he would be welcome in Highlands. Nicholas wanted that life. With them. It’s what he’d been searching for. His happiness. Julianna was part of that. He wanted to tell her. He had to tell her.
“Come, Mother,” he said, going to her. He motioned her to the door and opened it.
When they stepped out, he found Margaret. “I do not want her cleaning. She is not a servant. I would tell Rauf the same thing but he will be with me and the rest of our men when we go to Lismoor tomorrow. Watch over her, will you, Margaret? You and Julianna?”
“Of course, my lord. I will see to your wishes.” She smiled and took Berengaria from his hands.
He went to Margaret, took her face in his hands, kissed her on the forehead, and then left.
He made his way to Julianna’s chamber door. He knocked, eager to see her, to be with her, tell her everything he wanted to tell her. But no answer came.
He put his knuckles to the door again but heard the sound of someone entering the castle and walking briskly to the great hall.
Nicholas was drawn to the silence that followed, like the calm before the storm. He moved toward the doors of the great hall, his heart thrashing in his chest. What was it? What was this sense of doom and disaster rolling in on him like a frigid mist from the North Sea?
The quiet echoed like drums through his body. He heard a man’s voice—Bamburgh—“In closing, I hereby order that Phillip DeAvoy be released and not hampered in his duty to me.”
What? What was he saying? Then Nicholas realized that Bamburgh was reading. A letter had arrived.
The storm came soon enough.
He pushed open the doors and saw Julianna standing next to the viscount. Torin was close by looking forlorn. The men had been drinking but presently they stared at Julianna as Bamburgh read from a missive in his hands.
When she saw him, she ran into his arms and held him tight. “I will not let you go!”
“Nor will I, my love, but what—”
“A letter from the king!” she cried. “He wants Phillip released and he wants me to be handed over to him as his rightful wife.”
They would have to kill him first, Nicholas thought. He would never allow her to be put in such danger! Killing Phillip wasn’t out of the question. He’d prefer not to, for his mother’s sake. But he’d kill him in an instant if he had to.
He found his mother in the great hall now with Margaret.
“I do not care what the king orders,” Julianna told Nicholas and Bamburgh. “We will go to the Highlands, will we not, Nicholas?”
“Aye, love, to the Highlands and to hell with kin
gs and nobles.” They would have to leave soon. Lismoor would have to stay in the hands of the English a little while longer—until he could come back with Cain. Now, he had to get to Carlisle without the king finding out where he was, for he would be an outlaw in England and an outcast in the church.
“There must be something we can do,” Bamburgh said. “We cannot let you both be fugitives. The church will not marry you.”
Julianna sniffed and replied but Nicholas didn’t hear. He watched her, ready to kill for her, die for her. He listened to her telling Bamburgh that they would live in the Highlands after they went back to Carlisle for Elias.
God help him, Nicholas thought, the stunned disbelief that anyone could be so lovely was as strong and as stirring as it had been when he was a boy. If he didn’t pour out his heart to her soon, he’d go mad. He’d held back his whole life, never able or allowed to tell her how much he loved her.
They drank to Edlingham and to Mr. Lawson—who was nowhere to be found—and his men but Nicholas could think of nothing but being with Julianna alone.
“Bamburgh, everyone,” he called out, “if you will excuse us, I need to—”
All eyes turned to Mr. Lawson entering the great hall. He stepped up to the table and set a bloody dagger down on it, capturing Nicholas’ attention. “Miss Feathers,” he said, turning to her, “ye are no longer bound to Phillip DeAvoy. Death has parted ye.”
Nicholas opened his mouth to speak but what could he say? Thank you? He wasn’t sure how Julianna felt about it. He couldn’t tell from her stilled expression if she was grateful or angry. He looked toward his mother, sitting at another table with Margaret, sipping from her cup. Did she understand what Lawson had done? She seemed oblivious.
He set his gaze on Julianna. She was free! With one eight-inch blade, a mercenary saved them from so much. But he’d killed Berengaria’s son. They could never tell her—if she ever woke up long enough to ask for him.
“Julianna.” He reached out for her hand. “Do you understand? Phillip is dead.”
She strained to breathe, but then it became easier. “Aye. I understand.” She eyed the dagger for a moment. “Are you certain he is dead? Phillip has a way of—”
“I’m certain,” Lawson answered with a nod. “A slit neck usually kills you.”
She didn’t flinch or scowl though her smile was a bit forced. “Was he coming after you, Mr. Lawson, about to attack you perhaps and that is why you had to kill him?”
“Aye, that is why,” the dangerous-looking mercenary agreed as if he were speaking to a beloved daughter. “He will no longer be a threat to you, lass. Now go on and live your life with your beloved.”
Nicholas smiled at his him. Did Lawson truly understand how hard life would have been for them if Phillip had lived? He would thank him tomorrow. They would also discuss tomorrow what to tell the king. Tonight was his and Julianna’s.
He finally spirited her away from the great hall to his room. It was much smaller than hers but it was warmer and the bed coverings were fresh.
They stepped inside and he bolted the door then caught her in his arms.
“I’m free. I almost was not.”
“But you are,” he said and smiled at her, pulling her closer. “You are free to be my beloved in the presence of God.”
“How do you know I will have you, knave?”
His smiled deepened and burned, flaming his eyes. He moved his smoldering gaze over her curls piled up around her head. His heart was stirred by one of them breaking free and falling past her jaw. He wanted to kiss her there. “You will have me, again and again. You will do with me what you want. I will not even touch you if you wish it.”
“Hmmm,” she purred against him. “We shall see.”
She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He was glad, for he would never force her.
“Be my wife, Julianna?” he asked, growing serious.
“Aye, Nicholas,” she agreed, smiling as if this were the happiest day of her life. “I will.”
He lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bed. He wasn’t completely sure what to do. He had only ever been with Mattie, and only for two years. He should have asked Torin, even Bamburgh.
No matter, he thought, leaning down to kiss her warm, honeyed lips. He would figure it out.
“My fire,” he whispered, coming up for air and setting her down on his bed. He pulled off his doublet and shirt and moved over her. “There has not been a day in my life when I have not loved you.” He settled in beside her and took her in as if she belonged there, against him, around him. “Some days were harder than others. Some when I thought loving you ever again was impossible.” He removed her overcoat and pulled at the laces of her stays and finally freed her from it. He ran his hands up her sides bringing her shirt along, and then tugging it over her head. Looking at her made his hard body move over hers like a salacious lick. When she lay beneath him, bare and more beautiful than his heart could endure, he sank on top of her, with the remainder of their clothing a flimsy barrier between them. “But after the battle,” he told her, sweeping his voice against her ears, “after all the dust of it settled, I found myself hopelessly unchanged.”
He traced a path with his tongue and his kisses down her neck to her breasts. They were like small, round apples waiting to be devoured. “Julianna,” he said, breathing hard on one. He closed his eyes. “My heart quakes at the thought of you.”
And it did. He’d wanted her for so long that being with her didn’t feel real.
She tasted real enough when he stretched his tongue over the pink nib at the crest of her bosom. She groaned, so he did it over and over, sucking her in, rolling her gently between his teeth. He made her writhe beneath him and rub her crux over his confined shaft.
She wanted him free and so she smoothed her palms beneath his hose and over his arse, squeezing, shaping, tugging.
Unable to continue another instant without being inside her, Nicholas ripped off his boots and the rest of his clothes, and climbed into the bed.
When she saw him fully naked, she gasped and then covered her mouth with her hands.
He stopped moving toward her and gave her a look of concern. “How are you feeling?” he asked, wanting to make certain Phillip was not in her head.
“Better than I ever have before. ’Tis just that I look at you—all of you—and I cannot believe you are finally mine.”
He lifted her voluminous skirts and settled down atop her. “I feel the same way, my love.”
She pulled him closer, wedging him deeper against her and curled her legs around him, resting her feet on his back.
He rose up, keeping his palms pressed down on the bed. He smiled and moved over her, letting her feel the full length of him. He bent to kiss her mouth, run his tongue over the contour of her jaw. The movement of his hips pulled little sounds from her throat. He wanted to run his hands down her body, touch, her, feel her.
“I cannot wait to finally make love to you, Julianna,” he told her with a sensual smile only she could pull from him and pushed against her wet entrance.
She was everything, and he had everything stored up for her—years of love and of forbidden passion. He broke through slowly, clenched his jaw, and then promptly pulled back out and spilled his passion on her belly.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Julianna watched the love of her life do his very best not to lose control over himself, but he did and she smiled, loving that she had such an effect on him. They waited a little while after he cleaned her up and then she waited for him to come back to bed. When he did, she crawled on top of him and gazed deep into his eyes. “Nicholas?”
“Aye, love?” he asked, rubbing the backs of his knuckles over her cheek.
“What are the Highlands like?”
“I do not remember Invergarry, but Cain tells me there are a lot of rivers and lochs, and mountain ranges. ’Tis cooler there and the people are more friendly.”
She giggled into her hand and thought
about how at ease and relaxed she felt being here naked with him. She never would have felt like this if she were with anyone else. Nicholas was her dearest, closest friend and, now, her lover. She didn’t think it could get any better but he wanted her to be his wife!
“Do you think you might want to live there even though we will not have to?” he asked her, looking hopeful.
“Aye, I would want to live there,” she told him with a bit of a teasing smile. “’Tis better to live closer to Cain than to Torin.”
He smiled but she could tell that her feelings toward his brother saddened him. She didn’t want to bring any more sadness to his life. “I will work on forgiving him. He did save your life, after all.”
“I will arrange to have Phillip buried with his father,” Nicholas told her, then looked down at the bed covering. “Berengaria came to see me earlier.”
Julianna sat up and glared down at him. “Nicholas, why did you not tell me?”
“I am telling you now!” he defended sheepishly. “It has not been a quiet evening, Julianna. Thoughts of you took precedence. They always have.”
She smiled softly and forgave him. “Well? What did she say?”
“She said she misses you.”
Her throat burned, along with the backs of her eyes. “I miss her, too.”
“I know. I told her.” He sat up beneath her and closed his arms around her. “I told her we would bring her with us wherever we lived.”
Julianna nodded in his comforting embrace. Aye, she was so happy he had promised that to his mother. Berengaria was her mother, too. “I want more time with her.”
He wiped her eyes with his thumbs and then kissed her eyelids. “You shall have it while we travel to Carlisle to retrieve Elias, and long after that.”
“Tell me again that you love me, Nicholas.”
“I love you, lass,” he whispered against her lips.
She opened to the salacious lick of his tongue against the seam of her mouth. He coiled his arms around her waist and pulled her in closer. Their kiss deepened and Julianna wondered if she’d gone too far by sitting on him. She had never done anything like this before. With Phillip it was always the same, one way and no variation, though with Phillip that was a blessing.