A Bit of Heaven on Earth (17 page)

And possibly the most handsome man in all of England. She would close her eyes and relive their kiss, his hands pulling her close, his heat and passion, and find herself trembling with desire. It was something she’d never known. She’d never been interested in it, but it now haunted her.

Gavin made her aware of this sleeping giant. All she wished was to close her eyes and be enveloped in his arms once more.

“Would you care for some cheese, my lady? More wine?”

Elizabeth rejoined reality as Gavin offered her tangible things.
If only he could offer her himself.
“Thank you, my lord. I would enjoy more of the wine.”

He poured it for her and gave her the cup. She downed it in a single swallow.

He whistled low. “If only your appetite matched your thirst, my lady.”

“Elizabeth,” she whispered, looking into his eyes. “Please. Call me Elizabeth.”

A smile played about his lips. “Then if we are not to stand on ceremony, you must return the favor and call me Gavin.”

“Gavin,” she repeated, savoring the word she spoke. “I should like that.” She longed to do more than say his name, but for tomorrow she would content herself with his company.

“Gavin,” she said again, “would you be willing to accompany me as I begin my spring inspection? Aldred always insisted I take a guard of four men with me. I feel things are safe, though, about Kentwood. I must begin to examine roofs around the property, to see what repairs are needed to the cottages before haying season begins.”

She fiddled with the pocket of her cote-hardie. “Would you be able to take a few days away from your men? Rufus could step in and supervise. I would feel better not pulling away so many from their duties.”

His answering smile warmed her down to her very toes. “Of course, Elizabeth. We may begin as early as you wish.”

CHAPTER 18

Elizabeth wished the day would never end. She’d thought the same of yesterday. Gavin had accompanied her for two days now around Kentwood. They had met with the residents of every cottage and listened to their concerns. He helped her record what needed to be mended. She delighted in his easy manner with the people, and they certainly took to him. He would have made a wonderful liege for Kentwood.

She studied him as he spoke to Old James, the former stable master. Up in years now, Aldred had given him his own cottage and a bit of land to farm for his years of trusted service. Gavin spoke to Old James of his bad knee and gimpy stomach and commiserated with him about their mutual dislike of peas. She had never seen Old James so charmed. She regretted that Gavin no longer had an estate to inherit, for he would have done the king proud.

“So ‘tis a complete new thatched roof for you, Old James?” she asked, hoping to end their lengthy stay.

“Aye, my lady. Lord Gavin said he himself will help in making me place the envy of the land.” He winked at her. “’Twill only match the envy the men now feel about me and me good looks.”

She laughed. “Truly, Old James, have you come between another man and his courting of a widow?”

The bearded man smiled, his eyes crinkling in the folds of his sun-worn face. “’Tis a good thing, my lady, to get Mary’s eyes cast upon me and not that surly John,” he said, leaning in as he shared the confidence. “She can do much better than him, for sure. Besides, she keeps me clothes clean and food on me table.”

“I trust you won’t break her heart then,” she proclaimed. “You have a reputation for doing so, you know.”

“Me?” Old James asked innocently. He turned to Gavin. “Those who tell tales. Can’t trust ‘em, I say. Don’t listen to a harsh word against me, my lord. I’m but a pussycat.”

Gavin laughed heartily. “I have a pussycat named Homer, Old James.” He pointed to where the cat sprawled in the grass behind them, soaking up the sun’s rays. “He’s a devil in disguise, mark my words. You may be, too, for all I know. Still,” he added, “’twill be a new roof for you, ladies’ man or not,” and grinned.

“Thank ye both, my lord, my lady.” The old man smiled and wiped a tear. “I will go to my grave grateful that I have lived my entire life at Kentwood, that I will.”

“Let’s not make it an early grave, Old James,” she teased. “I would hope you would stay around long enough to enjoy your new roof.”

She motioned to Gavin. “Come, my lord. We still have a few places to visit this day. Good day to you, Old James. And tell Mary hello.”

Old James guffawed loudly and waved goodbye to them.

As they walked their horses down the road, Homer trailing them, Gavin shook his head. “He is most flirtatious with the ladies, in truth?”

She nodded. “He might have nary a hair atop his head and a good many teeth missing, but Old James is winsome, is he not?”

Gavin agreed. “I hope to be charming the ladies when I am his age. He looks as if he still has a great deal of fun.”

“That he does,” she replied, but her words were drowned out by a loud thunderclap. She turned her eyes up and scanned the heavens. “I’d not realized how the sky darkened, thanks to how entertaining Old James was.”

Gavin looked up. “’Twill storm any minute now.” He pointed ahead of them. “I see Homer has already made his run for shelter. Shall we hasten back to Old James’s place, or is there somewhere closer we can ride out the rain?”

She thought a moment. “Round the curve there’s a small cottage no longer in use. It belonged to Old James’s cousin, which is why Aldred gave him the cottage he did. The poor man died two days after Old James moved in. ‘Tis vacant ever since.”

Drops of rain began to pelt them. “Then we’d best make a dash for it,” Gavin said. “Come on.” They spurred their horses to a full gallop. Great sheets of rain stung them as they scurried to the edge of a wooded area.

“There!” she cried. “’Tis but a stone’s throw ahead.”

They raced the last bit and tethered their horses before running to the cottage. Gavin threw open the door, and Elizabeth rushed in, out of breath, Homer darting past her. He stepped in and closed the door. A lone, dirty window stood next to the door. Gavin went and peered out.

“Hopefully ‘twill not last too long.” He turned and looked over the mostly bare room. “At least there’s a chair apiece. Come, Elizabeth, let us sit and rest a spell.”

She walked over and sat upon one of the chairs. Her teeth began to chatter. Embarrassed, she raised a hand to her mouth and covered it. She gritted her teeth, forcing them to stay in place.

“You are cold,” he said as he pulled the remaining chair over close to her.

“Oh, ‘tis not so bad,” she said, a shiver betraying her.

He looked about. “Here, drag your chair over to the fireplace. There are a few logs next to it. I can start a fire. You will be warmed in no time.”

Elizabeth watched as he quickly got a blaze going. She stood and moved closer to it, resting her hands against the stone as she leaned into the heat. They’d been gone for most of the day, and she hadn’t realized how tired she’d grown.

“You shake still,” Gavin said quietly. He moved behind her and placed his hands upon her shoulders. He began to rub her arms in his hands, slowly gliding them up and down. His fingers held such heat in them. Indeed, his very closeness seemed a stronger fire than that in the grate before her.

Without thinking, she leaned back into him, absorbing the warmth that he possessed, even in his wet tunic.

Then his arms slid round her waist, drawing her closer to him. Her breath caught in her throat at his very nearness. His fingers locked, trapping her in the circle of his arms.

“Gavin?” she asked, afraid to move, afraid to break the magic spell. She’d longed to be right where she now stood. Her pounding heart betrayed her fear at their situation.

His response was wordless, but one she treasured, nonetheless. He bent and kissed her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. His lips moved to her neck, scorching a path there, before they touched her cheek.

One arm held her tightly against him as his other palm moved to caress her breast. Elizabeth moaned. Her knees turned liquid. If Gavin had not held her, she would have puddled on the floor.

He slipped a hand into the side slit of her cote-hardie and touched her breast again. This time the heat of his hand was even closer. Her heart pounded and that strange throbbing she’d felt before, when he’d kissed her, began in earnest. His fingers played with her nipple through her under-tunic and chemise, teasing it to a taut peak.

She thought she would faint from the pleasure. He moved his hand to the other breast, lavishing just as much attention on it as the first, all the while pressing hot kisses along her throat and cheek. She leaned harder into him, her head falling back as the throbbing became almost painful.

Suddenly, he spun her in his arms. She clung to him wildly. Her fingers dug into his arms. His hands splayed along her back. His mouth was everywhere, in her hair, on her eyelids, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her mouth.

His kisses overwhelmed her. She couldn’t breathe. And yet they continued, his mouth insistent on hers. Her lips parted, allowing his tongue entrance, and she welcomed it. He stroked her with it, a constant, dizzying motion that kept her head spinning. Her senses filled with him, his scent, his touch, his taste. Tears began to flow down her cheeks.

That stopped him.

Gavin lifted his mouth from hers. “Elizabeth?” he asked. “Have I hurt you?” He held her at arm’s length and studied her.

The concern in his eyes touched her very core. “No,” she whispered. “’Twas just so beautiful . . . I . . . had to cry.”

He smiled, a heartbreaking smile, and caught her up in his arms again. “No, my love, you are the beautiful one.” He kissed her gently, tenderly. The passion was still there, but it was more controlled now.

She hiccupped.

He drew back, a questioning look on his face. She felt the heat of her blush and hiccupped again.

“I . . . I sometimes hiccup when I cry,” she explained. “I didn’t mean to ruin things.”

Gavin laughed and kissed her brow. “Oh, Elizabeth, only you would cry and hiccup when a man wished to make love to you.”

Her eyes widened. “You . . . you wish to make love to me?”

He cupped her cheek. “More than anything in the world.” He kissed her lips tenderly. “More than you could ever imagine.”

She smiled shyly at him. “That would be . . . nice.” And hiccupped again.

“Nice?” he asked. “Nice?” He brushed his lips against hers. “Oh, my lady, nice is not the word that comes to mind. Nice brings pictures of a row of colorful poppies or the taste of a sweet apple tart. A pleasant song or a chore completed.”

He smiled wickedly down at her. “What I had in mind was not exactly . . . nice. ‘Twill be better than nice, I assure you.”

His hands slipped down her back and went round her bottom, drawing her closer even as his mouth took hers by storm. She found her fingers entangled in his hair, the breathlessness overwhelming her again as his kisses made all rational thought flee.

She agreed that
nice
had not been the exact word she was looking for.

Gavin swept her up into his arms. Hers went round his neck and she kissed him for the first time, making her own bold move. His growl let her know he approved. He broke the kiss and looked around the room.

“I see no bed, my lady. The straw on the floor ‘twill have to suffice. But,” he said, his eyes glowing at her, “I guarantee you won’t notice the difference.”

He carried her to the corner of the room. As he placed her on the straw, she raised a hand to his chest. His heart beat as fast as hers did. Oh, God in Heaven, she wanted this man!

A voice from outside invaded her thoughts.

“Elizabeth? Gavin? Are you there?”

CHAPTER 19

Gavin stood quickly as Elizabeth gasped.

“’Tis Robert!” she said, scrambling to her feet.

Gavin took in her lush mouth, swollen from his kisses. “Face the fire. Act as though you’re warming yourself. And don’t turn to look Robert in the eye. He’ll guess at once what mischief we’re up to. He may already as it ‘tis.”

He strode to the door as a shadow darkened the window. He threw open the door and smiled.

“Hello, Robert. Out for a ride in the rain?”

His friend looked at him questioningly as he stepped into the small room. Gavin saw Elizabeth now stood before the fire, her arms wrapped about her, Homer rubbing against her leg.

“Good day to you, Robert,” she replied, all traces of her hiccups now vanished. She turned her head slightly. “You may want to share in the fire Lord Gavin built. I swear ‘tis soaked to the skin, I am, and chilled to my bones.” She gazed back at the fire and held her hands out to its warmth.

Gavin closed the door, noting the storm had let up considerably.

“’Twas on my way to Kentwood when it suddenly hit,” Robert replied. “I rode a quarter league and called in upon Old James, who graciously allowed me to take shelter.”

“We just came from there ourselves,” Gavin said. “He’s quite an interesting character.”

Robert headed toward the fire. “That he is.” He went and stood next to Elizabeth. “Old James said you’d called there not a quarter hour before I arrived.”

Elizabeth continued to stare into the fire. “Yes, Lord Gavin accompanied me today on my rounds, visiting each cottage and its residents. You know how I like to have all repairs done before summer arrives and prefer to see what needs to be done in person.”

“And you had time to do so, my friend?” Robert asked. Suspicion rose in his eyes as he spoke. “With better weather at hand, the king will be demanding additional troops for his war. I would think you would be busy preparing those men, or have you forgotten what war is like?”

Gavin held his temper. Robert baited him. Had his friend guessed at what had occurred between them only moments ago? Part, too, came from guilt. Although Robert had made no formal declaration to him, he knew his friend well enough to suspect he was in love with Elizabeth.

Did Robert have earlier suspicions about their relationship? Was that why he sought them out after learning they were nearby? With Aldred now dead, would Robert plan to petition Edward to make Elizabeth his bride and join their properties together? Or had he already done so on the sly and simply awaited word from the king? He’d be a fool not to try.