Mercenaries and Maidens: A Medieval Romance bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Kaspian knew exactly what the problem was. Her soft, creamy back was to him and he reached out, stroking a finger along her spine. “I shan’t be long,” he said. “But this I must do. My fortress is in the hands of a madman.”

  “I know.” She trembled as his fingers moved across her back. “But I… I shall miss you.”

  “And I shall miss you.”

  She could hear his breathing growing heavy behind her as his hand moved across her shoulders and down one arm. When he reached her elbow, it was inevitable that his hand found its way to her breast. Madelayne shuddered as he cupped her breast, giving it a gentle squeeze and spraying a stream of milk onto the linens. They laughed together, softly, as she rolled onto her back, rivets of milk running down her torso.

  Kaspian didn’t say a word as he swooped upon her to lap up the milk, covering her with his big body, his hands on both breasts, squeezing the nourishing liquid out until it ran all over her in erotic streams for him to drink up. He licked and suckled, listening to her moan with pleasure, feeling his swollen member throb with the desperate desire to make love to her.

  Madelayne instinctively spread her legs, allowing him to lay between them, feeling the weight and strength of his body with the greatest of joy. It was inherent for them to want to join their bodies in a meld of desire, forgetting the fact that Madelayne had given birth a mere few weeks before and should have given more time to the healing process. But she wanted to feel Kaspian inside her in the worst way, and he had never known a stronger urge to bury himself deep within a woman’s flesh. The more he licked and suckled, the more fevered their desire became.

  Their passion was at a frenzy. Kaspian lifted himself up, sliding his great member into her with an ease that suggested she was made to accommodate him and him alone. He seated himself to the hilt with comfort and grace, enough to bring tears to his eyes. Madelayne emitted a soft cry, clinging to him as he drove into her, wrapping her legs around him as if to never let him go. His sheer size was smothering her in a most wonderful way, but somewhere in their passion he rolled onto his side, her left leg pulled up over his hip as he made love to her with ardent fervor. He put his mouth over hers, his tongue licking her sweet depths, continuing to kiss her even as he released his seed deep into her body.

  Madelayne felt him tremble and she, too, joined him in his pleasure-filled tremors, finally experiencing a climax with him that she didn’t have to hide. When it was over, they hardly knew what had overcome them, only that the experience had been beyond powerful.

  Kaspian kissed her eyes, her nose, her jaw line, his hands in her hair. It was an exquisitely tender moment. Madelayne sighed raggedly, relishing every touch.

  “I should apologize, but I cannot,” he confessed. “I’ve wanted to take you for the longest time. It was sweeter than I could have imagined. Did I injure you?”

  She pressed against him, his arms around her tightly. The warmth of his body made her feel safe, cherished, whole. “Of course not. It was more than wonderful.”

  “My feelings precisely.”

  “Promise me something, Kaspian.”

  “Anything.”

  “Promise that you will never leave me.”

  “I promise.”

  “I would die if you did.”

  “Then you will die a very old woman. I will never leave your side.”

  She believed him without question. Kaspian St. Hèver never said anything he did not mean and his word was as good as gold. They continued to lay together in warm, wonderful silence as the day progressed. Kaspian eventually fell asleep and it was tremendously comforting to Madelayne to listen to his deep, steady breathing. She wished they could stay just as they were forever. It was the happiest she had ever been in her life, the culmination of everything she could have ever hoped for.

  But forever came too soon. A knock on the door rattled the chamber just before sundown and Kaspian was instantly awake. While Madelayne struggled to awaken from a long nap, he was sliding his heavy woolen hose on and answering the door.

  Thomas was standing at the door, looking horribly gray. “Kaspian,” he said hoarsely. “I… I need your help.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Mavia….”

  Hearing the name, Madelayne was immediately alert. Wrapping herself in the coverlet, she stumbled to the door. “What did you do to her?” she said accusingly.

  Thomas looked stricken. “What did I do to her?”

  Madelayne was furious at him, though she wasn’t sure why. Hadn’t Mavia said that Thomas refused to speak to her, that he had been insanely jealous over Nicholas? Now something was apparently wrong and Madelayne was certain that Thomas was to blame.

  “She said that you hadn’t spoken to her because of a foolish jealousy,” she snapped. “Where is she? What did you say to upset her so?”

  Thomas’ pale cheeks darkened. “So she lied to you, too. You have no idea what has happened!”

  “You mistrust your own wife? How horrible of you!”

  Kaspian would not allow them to bicker. He put his hands on Madelayne’s shoulders and turned her around. “Madelayne, get dressed please.” When she did as she was told, hissing like an angry cat all the way, he turned back to Thomas. “What about Mavia? Where is she?”

  Thomas leaned against the wall as if it were the only thing to sustain him. “In the ward. She jumped to her death not a half hour ago.”

  Behind him, Kaspian heard Madelayne scream.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The rain hadn’t stopped for days. It was dreary and cold, soaking man and beast. High in the keep of Kirk Castle, however, Madelayne had managed to stay comfortably dry with Kaspian to tend to her every need. He’d said nothing about riding for Shrewsbury Castle, though he had mentioned that Hawarden Castle had been successfully defended and Lavister’s troops were now heading to Kirk. Since the entire happenstance had been a ruse, he hadn’t been surprised that Hawarden remained intact in spite of what the Welsh spy had said. Other than that remark, he had been completely focused on her and had not allowed anything to enter their world.

  It was more than attention. It was as if he simply couldn’t get enough of her, as if he had to spend every waking moment by her side, talking to her, laughing with her, making sure she wasn’t too cold or hot or anything else. In truth, Madelayne found the attention wonderful. It helped ease the ache of Mavia’s death and the upheaval of Lavister in general. Pleading exhaustion, they hadn’t even joined the rest of the castle for the evening meal in the great hall. They had stayed to their room, just the two of them, sharing a quiet meal.

  A priest had been summoned for Mavia’s funeral and arrived on the morning of the third day since their arrival at Kirk. In one of Lady Hawys’ borrowed gowns, since she hadn’t any of her own, Madelayne was determined to greet the priest on behalf of her friend and help him prepare a proper mass. Thomas had made himself scarce since his wife’s passing and it was rumored he was holed up somewhere in the castle drinking himself to death. Kaspian had tried to find him, more than once, but the knight remained elusive. With the loss of Cairn and now, temporarily, Thomas, there were many concerns on Kaspian’s mind that he had not yet voiced. Even though his world with Madelayne was solid, professionally, his command seemed to be falling apart.

  But the main line of focus was Mavia’s burial mass on this day and not the fragility of Kaspian’s command structure. The priest, Father Rothas, was from Shrewsbury. He was a small man with thin gray hair and enormous brown eyes. He had been told only that a lady of noble breeding had died and required mass, but nothing more. A servant with a sizable pouch of money had come for him and he would not refuse.

  Madelayne greeted the priest in the bailey along with Lady Hawys and the two of them escorted him to the lord’s lavish solar. Kaspian went off to find Thomas, concerned that the man needed to be present when discussing the burial details of his own wife. In the meanwhile, the priest made himself comfortable as Lady Hawys, in her high-pitched
voice, explained the situation.

  When she came to the part of the circumstances of death, the priest visibly balked. “You say she leapt to her death?” he asked.

  Madelayne nodded. She was having difficulty getting a word in with Lady Hawys’ chatter and took the opportunity. “She was distraught over failings in her marriage. But she was a good lady, kind to the poor, and….”

  The priest shook his head vehemently. “It does not matter, my lady. You know very well the church frowns upon suicide. She cannot be buried in consecrated ground, nor can I say mass for her. She is damned, I’m afraid.”

  Madelayne’s reaction was instant. “That is not true!” she exclaimed. “You can say mass to plead with God not to condemn her soul eternally, but to allow her penance in the levels of Purgatory until she is able to ascend. She was a very good woman, with a good heart, and I cannot believe God will condemn her without thought.”

  The priest wasn’t trying to be cruel, merely factual. “My dear lady, I must insist that I can do no such thing. There is a designated hell for those of suicide, those foolish enough to waste God’s gift of life. The upper levels of Purgatory are for those such as unbaptized babies or good souls who were ignorant of God, or….”

  “But we can do penance for her, can we not?” Madelayne was rapidly working herself up into a state. “We can pray for her and make donations to the church on her behalf. Surely there is something that we, as her family and friends, can do for her?”

  Father Rothas shook his head. “This is not a case of simple sin, my lady. What Lady Mavia did was a cardinal offense. Most things can be forgiven in the eyes of God, but this cannot. There is nothing to be done. She is condemned to everlasting damnation.”

  Madelayne was shocked by his lack of concern. Out of that shock grew anger. “Sins do not have varied degrees of severity,” she hissed. “All sins are an offense to God, whether I bed another woman’s husband or throw myself from the battlements. Are you telling me that to bear false witness against my neighbor has less value in the eyes of God than murdering my brother? Both are part of the Ten Commandments. Since when is suicide more critical than any of God’s sacred commandments, the only unforgivable sin to be committed? I have never heard of this being listed as Man’s most evil sin, one unworthy of forgiveness.”

  The priest was not intimidated by her. “I do not make the rules, my lady, I merely follow them. If Lady Mavia committed suicide, then I cannot say mass for her.”

  Madelayne let out a bark of frustration. “You hide behind the technicalities of this religion when a woman’s soul is at stake. Aren’t you, as a priest, supposed to do everything possible to save souls?”

  Kaspian chose that moment to enter the room. He had heard Madelayne from the moment he entered the keep, her tone telling him that she was seriously agitated. He wondered what the priest had said to upset her so, but upon catching the gist of the conversation, he realized what had happened.

  “My lady,” he greeted both Hawys and Madelayne. He eyed the priest. “I am Kaspian St. Hèver, commander of Lavister Crag Castle and servant of his majesty King Edward. What goes on here?”

  The priest cast a long glance at the slovenly, drunken knight who stumbled to a halt next to Kaspian. “We were simply discussing the details of Lady Mavia’s death. ’Twould seem that I was not entirely informed of the circumstances.” He looked closely at Kaspian. “Lord St. Hèver, I fail to understand your association here.”

  Kaspian indicated Thomas. “This is Lady Mavia’s husband, Sir Thomas Allington-More. We are guests of Lord de Kirk.”

  Rothas nodded in understanding, more interested in Thomas now. “My lord,” he said. “Perhaps you can tell me the circumstances of your wife’s death. These fine ladies may have been misinformed.”

  Thomas was drunk, so drunk that he could barely stand. He reeked of liquor and vomit, and Madelayne was frankly shocked to see him in such condition. Thomas was usually the epitome of proper decorum in any circumstance. Aside from that, however, she realized that the priest was attempting to give them another chance to lie about Lady Mavia’s death. Perhaps she had misjudged the man. But Thomas was unaware of the preceding conversation.

  “She killed herself,” he said flatly. “Her shame was so great that she could do nothing more than take the dishonorable path to death so she leapt, like an idiot, from the battlements.”

  Madelayne could have slapped the man. She tried hard to think of something to say. “She could have slipped,” she said weakly. “No one actually saw her throw herself off the ledge. We do not know that it wasn’t an accident.”

  Thomas pursed his lips, emitting a long, foul sound indicative of his contention. “Nicholas de Dalyn took her to his bed mere hours after his arrival to Lavister,” he snarled. “When I first heard the rumors about it, I confronted her but she denied it. Then, I came across them in a passionate embrace and saw it with my own eyes. I cursed myself for being foolish enough to believe her lies. Two days ago she told me she believed herself pregnant. I told her I was going to kill de Dalyn and she threatened to kill herself if I harmed him. It seems that she carried out her threat.”

  Madelayne went pale. “Oh, Thomas… it cannot be. You must be mistaken.”

  “I wish I was.”

  “But it is too soon for her to know if she was with child! Nicholas has not been with us that long!”

  Thomas shrugged. “That is what she has told me.”

  Madelayne sighed heavily. “But the child…it could be yours, of course.”

  He smiled ruefully. “I had an accident many years ago in a tournament. Mavia and I have never been able to have children. Did you not wonder why we never had children after being married for so long? Did Mavia never tell you?”

  Shocked, Madelayne shook her head. “We never discussed it.”

  “Now you know.”

  Madelayne felt as if she had been hit in the stomach; all of her breath left her. “Then why didn’t you say something to me?” she begged softly. “Mayhap I could have spoken to her.”

  He shook his head. “It would not have done any good. De Dalyn bewitched her, that much is clear. Only you were strong enough to resist him. I wish Mavia would not have been so blind. She’s not an evil woman, just… weak.”

  Madelayne looked at Kaspian helplessly, but his expression was neutral. She didn’t know what else to say on her friend’s behalf, only that she wished the woman had been honest with her. Now she felt as if she had been betrayed, too. Thomas had kept to himself and she had known nothing of the true story and now she felt like a fool.

  Father Rothas didn’t seem overly surprised or overly sympathetic. In fact, he looked at Madelayne pointedly.

  “An adulteress as well,” he said quietly. “I cannot do any more for her. I am truly sorry.”

  Lady Hawys was overcome by the entire circumstance and excused herself. Madelayne could only imagine what the woman was thinking of these mad, immoral people from Lavister she had allowed into her home. Father Rothas quietly collected his cloak and the bag he had brought with him.

  “Perhaps you can direct me to my escort, Sir Kaspian,” he said. “It would seem that there is no work for me here.”

  Kaspian didn’t move to aid the man. Instead, he looked at Madelayne. “I believe there is, indeed, work for you, priest,” he said. “There is a marriage for you to perform.”

  Madelayne looked sharply at Kaspian, her face suddenly alight when she realized what he meant.

  Father Rothas looked confused. “What marriage?”

  Kaspian answered, “Mine and the lady’s.”

  Father Rothas frowned. “What’s this you say? I cannot simply perform a marriage with no background, no….”

  “One hundred silver marks shall be yours. The lady is widowed and I have never been married. We are from noble families and wish to be wed. That is all you need to know.”

  Rothas looked as if he were debating what to do. “What of her dowry?”

  “I shall s
upply it.”

  “Familial consent?”

  “She has no family.”

  There was no reason not to perform what he had asked. In a borrowed gown, with a drunken Thomas as witness, Madelayne l’Ebreux became Lady St. Hèver.

  *

  Kaspian’s first task as Madelayne’s husband was to decide what was to be done with Lady Mavia. Dampening the thrill of becoming Kaspian’s wife, Madelayne was devastated that the woman would not have a proper burial and insisted that she and Kaspian had to think of something appropriate. Thomas was useless in his drunken state and offered nothing by way of opinion or aid. Lord de Kirk and his wife were making themselves scarce, so the burden fell on Kaspian and Madelayne alone.

  Kaspian finally decided to pay one of the castle’s carpenters to construct a casket for Mavia and, with Lord de Kirk’s permission, store her in an unused section of Kirk’s vault until they could return her to Lavister. It was the best they could do and in spite of what the priest said, Madelayne spent an entire afternoon praying over Mavia’s body, hoping God would be merciful. Kaspian had stood beside her, offering whatever silent support he could.

  By sundown, however, the situation at Kirk markedly changed when the sentries on the battlements sighted Lavister’s incoming army. There was anticipation in the air, and some concern, as Kaspian waited for them in the ward, a cavernous area three times the size of Lavister’s bailey.

  Kaspian was anxious to speak to Nicholas, to find out what had transpired at Hawarden, and to devise a plan to regain his fortress. There was still the matter of going to Shrewsbury to solicit aid, something he had put off because of Mavia’s death and his need to be near Madelayne. He forced himself to focus on regaining his fortress, though thoughts of his new wife were constant. It was difficult to shake her, even though he tried.

  But not hard enough. Like a gentle fog, she lingered.

  The soldiers of Kirk began to light the torches on the wall, illuminating the dreary dusk as the Lavister army began to filter in through the open gate. Kaspian was joined by Lord de Kirk and the two men stood side by side, watching the army trickle in, waiting for the appearance of the senior knights. Owain was a short man with black hair and sharp black eyes. Kaspian had only met him once before, at a tourney on the Marches, and so far this visit had provided little time to know him better. Much as his wife had, Kaspian could only imagine what Owain thought of this dramatic group from Lavister. So far, they’d proven little else.