Andrew didn’t keep her waiting.
Time was passing, and the chances of Andrew being discovered greatly increased. Quickly he stripped off everything, his tunic and breeches coming off, landing in a pile next to the bed. Josephine could see his magnificent body in the weak light and she ran a finger over his chest, his belly, watching him shudder at her touch.
She was discovering the feel of a man, acquainting herself with Andrew’s spectacular form, but Andrew couldn’t control himself. Reaching up, he grasped the linen gown and pulled it quickly over her head, exposing her nakedness.
His hands reached out to gently fondle her breasts, unbelievably soft in his callused hands. He dipped his head forward and caught her lips in his own, and gently caressed her breasts as he suckled her lips. It was sensual, maddening, and utterly arousing, and Josephine was being driven mad, she was sure. His touch electrified her and his mouth was doing devilishly wonderful things. When he settled himself between her pretty legs, she was without fear, and when he began to thrust, she welcomed it.
Andrew could only feel extreme satisfaction and arousal as he began to move inside her, slowly at first, but then increasing in power. The strokes were measured and strong, and Josephine moved with him, mimicking his actions, thrusting her pelvis forward to meet each stroke. A delicious, tingling warmth spread from her loins and filled her veins. It was as if this action alone consumed her entire being.
The movement between them became faster and harder, and a sheen formed on their bodies as their lovemaking continued. Andrew released her hands and groped her breasts again, squeezing in rhythm with his thrusts, but then he suddenly stopped.
Before Josephine could question him, he withdrew from her body and flipped her onto her stomach. Josephine was dazed with passion as Andrew brought her up onto her hands and knees. Pulling her legs apart slightly, he drove into her from behind and immediately began firm, hard thrusts.
It was a new level of passion never before felt as Josephine experienced their lovemaking from an entirely new angle. His hands moved to her breasts, using them as anchors to keep her from moving away from him. Josephine moaned and thrashed her head about, completely oblivious to anything but his attentions. But one of his hands moved to the damp curls between her legs and began manipulating her. Then, it was all over in seconds.
Josephine’s tremors consumed her, gasps of pleasure coming from her lips. Andrew followed shortly, thrusting into her one last time with a grunt of pleasure and holding Josephine to him with great ferocity as he spent himself in her sweet body. Bound to each other, they fell together on the bed.
It was a while before either one spoke. Josephine had never felt so alive, so wanted, or so loved. Her love for Andrew knew no limits as she felt the man around her, still embedded in her. It seemed that he had no intention of removing himself, which was fine by her. As she lay there and her breathing eased, Andrew kissed the back of her head.
“Are you well?” he murmured.
“Aye.”
He kissed her head again. “I love you, Joey,” he whispered. “For all time, I shall love you, more than my own life.”
She snuggled into his embrace, her arms over his arms as they held her. “And I love you,” she breathed. “If you should die tomorrow in your quest to kill your brother, wait for me at Heaven’s gate. I shall not be far behind you.”
Andrew’s smile faded as he thought on her words. Although he was deeply touched by her devotion and declaration, the thought of Josephine dead nearly drove him out of his mind. It had never occurred to him that she would not want to live without him but, more than that, knowledge of their betrothal, when it came to Alphonse, could prove deadly for her.
“Josephine,” he said after a moment. “Whatever happens, never mention to my brother that we are betrothed. I fear… I fear his hatred of me will drive him to do unspeakable things.”
Josephine pulled away from him. Then she turned in his arms so that she could look at him. Her eyes filled with fear.
“He will not hear it from me,” she said. “Although Ridge knows, as does Nicholas. But they will not tell him, I am sure.”
Andrew wasn’t pleased that two men loyal to the king knew of their betrothal, but he didn’t scold her. There was no point. He simply kissed her again and wrapped his arms around her, savoring the last few moments of this precious encounter. He knew it might be a long time before he would be able to hold her again.
Each minute was stolen and precious right now and he knew he couldn’t remain with her much longer. Already, he had been far longer than he’d anticipated. With one last kiss, he released her.
“I must go,” he whispered as he sat up. “Every moment I spend here is another moment I may be seen. I am assuming there are servants all over the place.”
Josephine nodded, sitting up in bed and watching the man as he hurriedly dressed. He was so beautiful to watch, his big muscles and sleek form. But she tore her eyes away and noticed a small, colored stain on the linens. She ran her hand across it.
“They will see this,” she murmured. “They will see this and wonder.”
Andrew was pulling on his leather gloves as he glanced down at the spot. It was a colored discharge from her body, which had probably not healed since the first time he’d taken her.
“Tell them your woman’s cycle has begun,” he said without hesitation. “That should keep the king and my brother at bay for a time.”
Josephine jerked her head up to him, shocked that he should mention such unspeakable things so casually. He saw her expression and laughed.
“Do not look so horrified, Joey,” he said. “It is a natural occurrence, like eating and pissing. Women are cursed with it and men are awed by it. They will stay away from you quick enough if you tell them your woman’s time is upon you.”
It was rather clever of him, she had to admit. But she was still slightly mortified at the suggestion. Yet, she was willing to do anything at this point to keep the king and the earl away from her.
When Andrew was finished dressing, he reached down to pull her to him, his warm mouth kissing every inch of her face. Josephine clung to him, with small whimpers escaping her lips as she realized he was saying goodbye. Perhaps even forever. Her fear claimed her and she began to cry.
“Do not leave me,” she sobbed quietly. “Please do not go.”
His heart was breaking as he kissed her again as he tried to pull away from her. “I shall be nearby, always,” he assured her. “Nothing will happen to you, Joey. I promise.”
He tried to remove her arms from him, but she was like a terrified child. “I am so afraid, Andrew,” she wept. “Please take me with you.”
He wasn’t getting anywhere trying to pull away from her so he paused, clasping her face between his two big hands. “Joey, listen to me,” he said steadily. “By tomorrow, this will all be over and you and I shall be traveling back to Torridon for our wedding. Sully and I are here; we will let nothing happen to you. Be brave, love, as I know you are. Make me proud.”
Make me proud. She very much wanted to. Josephine’s breathing calmed and she relaxed her death grip. She believed his words. She knew nothing would happen to her as long as he was near. Josephine was so frightened that she had to believe him. But in the back of her mind, she reminded herself that she was a de Carron, and Hugh did not raise weak children.
“Leave me your dirk,” she said after a moment. “At least give me the chance to protect myself.”
Andrew considered her request. He wasn’t so sure it was a good idea, but he knew she would never use it foolishly. He did not want to leave her without any personal protection. Taking his dirk from the belt at his waist, he placed the hilt of it in her palm with a deliberate motion.
“Only if necessary,” he whispered.
She nodded. “Only if necessary.”
With a lingering stroke to her silky check, Andrew departed, leaving Josephine sitting on her bed with the dagger in her hand. As she watched, he went
out the way he came in – through the window overlooking the entry door to the structure. Long-legged, sure-gripped, Andrew moved like a spider as he climbed out and dropped to the earth several feet below. Josephine jumped out of the bed and ran to the window, only to see him stealing off into the darkness.
Her heart was beating rapidly as she climbed back into bed, her mind whirling with the events of the evening and with what was still to come. Clutching the dirk to her breast, she fell into a fitful sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Justine had paced the castle like a caged animal since Andrew and Sully’s departure. Never had she been alone in the fortress without Josephine or Sully, and the knowledge that they were in danger, and Andrew along with them, nearly drove her mad.
Several times, she had consulted her cards and, several times, she was left confused with the results. They simply weren’t making any sense. Perhaps it was because Justine was no longer a virgin and her powers had been significantly diminished. Not that she would have traded her marriage to Sully for anything but, still, she feared her powers of insight had left her.
She was no longer the witch she had once been.
Now, she was pacing the Knight’s Haven, a room she seldom entered. But with everyone gone, she had called the knights of Torridon together before dawn and had given command over to Etienne and Thane. It was a wise decision on her part, for she truly had no idea how to run a fortress and was in no condition to make any kind of decision.
She had not slept for two nights. Instead, she was trying to devise a plan of action. But she was not a soldier and could not think in those terms. She was, however, a bit of an actress and a skilled deceiver, and she believed that therein lay her best offense.
Donald was still at Torridon, remaining behind when Sully and Andrew headed to Edinburgh. He thought Justine might need his help and he’d been correct; the woman had been a mess. At this early hour, he entered the Knight’s Haven because he’d been summoned, with his expensive boots thudding dully against the stone as he crossed the chamber.
“Ye sent for me, Lady Montgomery?” he asked quietly.
Justine turned to look at him and he was amazed to see the change in her. She wore one of her sister’s yellow silk gowns and her hair was attractively styled; not at all like the Justine of the past. Marriage had certainly done something for her.
“I have,” she said. “Donald, you are not planning on leaving us yet, are you?”
Donald shook his head. The swelling in his nose had gone down quite a bit and he was feeling well enough to travel, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave, not just yet.
“Nay, my lady,” he said. “I had not planned on it.”
“Good,” she said firmly. “Donald, I have need of you. You and I are traveling to Edinburgh.”
His eyes widened. There was doubt in his expression. “May I ask why?”
“Because my sister, her betrothed, and my husband are there and are in great danger,” she said. “They may need our help.”
Donald thought that was the case, but he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. “We may get in the way of their rescue attempt.”
Justine was stubborn. “I do not think that is true,” she said. “It is only the three of them against all of Scotland. I cannot stand here and wait to become a widow, Donald. Please say you shall go with me. If you do not, I will simply go without you, so it would be better if you agreed.”
It was a blunt way of putting it, but Donald knew she spoke the truth. He also knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to argue with her about it. Justine did as Justine wanted to do, and it had always been this way.
“Have ye spoken to any of the other knights about it?” he asked. “What of Etienne or Burl?”
Justine shook her head. “They must remain here and in command,” she said. “I have no duties here at Torridon, Donald. I am tired of feeling useless. I must go and help my sister.”
It was a very bad idea and Donald almost said so, but he bit his tongue. Whatever he said to her would not make her change her mind. As she said, she would go without him, and that would be a terrible thing, indeed. Therefore, he sighed in resignation.
“If that is yer wish, Lady Montgomery, then we shall go,” he said. “We will do what we can.”
Justine nodded, triumphant. She didn’t feel so helpless anymore. “Good,” she said. “Let me pack my things and you will see to the horses. I shall meet you in the inner ward in an hour.”
She breezed past him, heading from the Knight’s Haven. Donald watched her go, shaking his head doubtfully. If truth be known, he only agreed to go with her because he had nothing better to do and he wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of Justine going to Edinburgh alone. Back at his fortress awaited his overbearing father and two stupid sisters, and Donald always yearned for adventure and freedom. In helping Justine, perhaps, he was actually being presented with an opportunity to do something worthwhile.
Or extraordinarily stupid.
Donald went to the room he had been occupying since his arrival at Torridon and packed a small satchel, all the while wondering what exactly Justine had in mind. He had known the girl since she had been a small child and he never could seem to understand the workings of her mind. Hell, no one could. Justine had always been skittish and strange, and Donald was truly amazed at her metamorphosis since her wedding to Montgomery. It was as if she had finally found her place in life.
Donald, on the other hand, seemed to have yet found his particular place in this life. He knew that one day he would inherit everything from his father, but Donald wasn’t content with that. He longed for the adventure of love, and although he wasn’t as accomplished a swordsman as Andrew or Sully, or every other knight he had ever met, he was quick of wit and was extremely agile. Good thing, too; if he couldn’t outfight his opponent, then at least he could outrun him. He was an obnoxious sort at times, he knew, and his speed had always been a bonus. So, perhaps, the venture to Edinburgh was what he’d always sought – a sense of purpose, a sense of adventure.
A chance to do something good.
With his things packed, he ordered his steed and Lady Montgomery’s palfrey readied. He never had a war horse, rather opting for a white Arabian stallion whose mother had been brought back from the Crusades. The horse was quite a bit like Donald in equine form: high-strung, smart, and but needed direction. Donald loved the horse as one would love a brother.
The horses were brought forth into the inner ward and Donald waited for Justine. And waited. When she finally did emerge, she looked like the Justine of old – swathed in black, hair pulled back severely. She was trailed by servants carrying two huge satchels.
Donald cocked a wary eyebrow at her. “What is all of that?”
Justine didn’t answer until she mounted the brown animal. “That, my dear Donald, is our greatest hope for bringing everyone back to Torridon alive.”
He frowned. “What? Ye have armies stashed in those bags?”
She gave him an impatient look. “Think bigger, Master Muir,” she said. “I am bringing all the tools of my trade. If one item does not work, then we shall try another. You’ll see.”
He shook his head in bewilderment. “What, exactly, are ye planning, Justine?”
She grinned knowingly. “Trust me.”
Good Lord, he thought as the horses moved for the main gates. Angels in heaven, protect us dimwits!
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Josephine had been right; Madelaine did, indeed, discreetly mention the discolored stain on the linens the following morning. Doing exactly as she had been instructed, Josephine told the servant that it was her woman’s time and, from the look on Madelaine’s face, she had no doubt that information would wind its way back to the king.
It was just a suspicion she had.
Feeling somewhat lighter of spirit, Josephine was carefully dressed in an off-the-shoulder pale green silk that was embroidered very finely with tiny pearls. It was an exquisite dress that had Josephin
e turning back and forth, admiring herself in the mirror.
Her long hair had been pulled back in the front and secured on the crown of her head with a pearl clip, then the rest was braided and interwoven with strands of tiny pearls. She stood, staring at herself in the mirror, as Madelaine brought the single braid over one shoulder and secured pearl ear bobs on each ear.
In truth, Josephine was truly amazed at the riches she wore, and she felt a little guilty that she wasn’t ripping the garments off in protest of her captivity. These were all gifts from the earl and she knew very well she should not be accepting them. But there was a method to her madness.
Better a complacent captive with a plan up her sleeve than a rebel who bears watching.
Madelaine approached her with a bottle of perfume and Josephine eyed it. “What fragrance is that?” she demanded.
Madelaine smiled. “Exotic oils from across the sea, my lady.”
Josephine took a sniff of the very strong perfume and promptly sneezed. “That will not do,” she said. “Do you have rose?”
Madelaine went back to the vanity, fumbling about the glass phials until she brought forth a small yellow bottle.
“Here!” she crowed triumphantly. “Rose, my lady!”
Josephine crooked her finger at her. “Come here, then. I want a goodly dose.”
Madelaine obliged, and Josephine felt rejuvenated by the familiar scent. But it also reminded her of her home far way and, for a moment, she felt the beginnings of tears. But just as quickly, she fought them off and took another look at herself in the polished bronze mirror. It was a proud, strong woman who gazed back at her.
A worthy wife for a mercenary lord.
Squaring her shoulders and straightening, Josephine turned around to Madelaine and her busy little minions. Before she could open her mouth, Madelaine spoke.
“Sir Nicholas de Londres requests the honor of yer presence in his chamber for the morning meal, my lady,” she said. “He told me to bring ye as soon as ye were ready.”
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