Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass (13 page)

He gave her a gentle, reproving
look. Her hand was still resting at the edge of the bed and he picked it up,
holding it between his two enormous palms.  Ever so tenderly, he brought her
fingers to his lips and kissed them.

“Not at all,” he murmured. “But I
understand why you would feel that way. I have thought of almost nothing else
for the bulk of the evening. All I can tell you is that it is important that I
project a certain image for the soldiers. They fear and respect me, and in the
minds of men, any show of compassion or kindness will be construed as
weakness.”

Aubrielle understood, somewhat. 
“Are you afraid that they would think that a female had you by the throat?”

He grinned, patting her fingers.
“Something like that. There is nothing more pathetic than a man who is
controlled by the whims of a woman.”

“I see,” she said softly. “Then
you do not intend that my whims should control you.”

“As I said, polite requests will
always be honored. I am not sure a whim would come as a polite request, but a
piercing whine.”

He was smiling as he said it. She
pretended to grump. “Is that what you think? Have you ever known me to whine?”

“Indeed, no,” he said firmly.
“From what I have seen, you have two distinct moods. The first is to fight like
a wildcat, and the second… well, the second is right now, when you are as sweet
as a soft summer rain and twice as nice.”

It was the most touching thing
anyone had ever said to her. Aubrielle felt as if her heart swelled so that it
was close to bursting from her chest.  At that moment, she felt closer to this
stranger than she had ever felt to anyone in her life and her carefully guarded
control slipped peacefully away. She was being reckless and didn’t care.

“When I was a small child, I can
recollect climbing into my father’s bed and lying against him where it was warm
and safe,” she murmured. “He would hold me in the night, singing songs and
telling me stories. I have not felt such peace nor safety since that time. But
when I look at you, even though I have not truly come to know you, I think that
perhaps I could feel that peace and safety once again.”

His features softened. “I would
hope so, my lady. I will certainly do my best to make you feel that way.”

“Then would you do something for
me now?”

“Anything.”

“Would… would you lay here with
me until I fall asleep? I fear that I need that comfort and safety now, and I
would be most grateful if you would do this for me.”

It was a bold request, but
Kenneth didn’t care. Removing his boots, he climbed into bed beside her. Aubrielle
was under the coverlets and Kenneth lay on the top of them. The little dog was
happy for the company and licked his face a couple of times before he could set
it on the floor.  Alone in the bed with her, he rolled Aubrielle onto her side,
away from him, being very careful not to exacerbate her injuries.  When she was
settled, he pressed his massive body against her backside, his arms enfolding
her tenderly.  Her head ended up cradled between his shoulder and neck, his
mouth against the side of her head.

“Sleep now, my lady,” he
murmured. “You are safe. I swear that I will never let anything happen to you
ever again.”

She twisted her head back so she
could look at him. Kenneth realized too late that it was an extraordinarily
dangerous position, for she was far too close.  She looked as if she was going
to say something but he didn’t give her the chance.  The heat of the moment was
upon him, and he could do nothing but surrender to a force stronger than
anything he had ever experienced.

His mouth came down over her
lips, soft at first, but persistent and hard within a matter of seconds.  A big
hand came up to her throat, holding it gently but firmly, forming a vice that
held her head still while he ravaged her mouth with his lips and tongue.  When he
should have been well aware of the impropriety, he could only think of how
sweet she was.

It didn’t help that Aubrielle
hadn’t pulled away from him, shocked at his indecent behavior. In fact, after a
moment’s indecision, she had responded to him admirably.  He was aware of her
hand on his face, her mouth tasting his lips just as he was tasting hers. He
was unaware how long he kissed her: it seemed like an eternity, yet it hardly
seemed long enough. He could have kissed her for the rest of his life and have
never grown tired of it.

His lips left her mouth and moved
over her face, kissing her nose, her undamaged cheek, her forehead, and her
chin.  He even kissed her little ear that protruded so delightfully. It was an
extremely tender gesture. There was nothing about the woman that wasn’t
delectable, and he wanted to taste it all.  He was so swept up in his mounting
passion that it was a dreadful shock of reality when he put a hand on her torso
and she gasped in pain.

“Christ,” he breathed. “I am so
sorry.  I did not mean to do that.”

Her lips were red from his
stubble. In fact, he had nearly rubbed her raw with it. “I know you didn’t,”
she could see how badly he felt. “I forgot about that, too.”

He wiped the moisture off her
lips and smiled apologetically. “I am sorry for all of it. I do not know what
came over me. Perhaps… perhaps I should reclaim my chair.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because lying here… with
you… well, I am afraid my control is somewhat lacking.”

He was already rising from the
bed and Aubrielle grasped his arm. “Where are you going?”

“To sit in the chair.”

She clamped on to his arm and
refused to let go. “You’ll do no such thing. You promised to lay here with me
until I fall asleep and I intend to hold you to that promise.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “But you do
not understand. If I lay back down here, then I cannot guarantee that will not
happen again.”

“Let it, I say.”

He looked at her, curiously. A
smile grew upon his lips. “My lady, I cannot…”

“And do not call me ‘my lady’
when we are in private. You will call me by my name.”

“As you say. Then you will call
me by mine.”

She nodded shortly. “Now that we
have that established, come back to bed. I am cold and tired, and wish to
sleep.”

“If I start kissing you again, I
may not stop. And you’ll certainly not get any sleep.”

She looked him squarely in the
eye. “If that was meant to frighten me, it did not succeed.”

“Is that so? Then if I tell you
that I might rip off all of your clothes and ravage you, is that sufficiently
frightening?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” she said firmly. “And I
shall tell you why.”

“Please, by all means.”

“You are to be my husband, are
you not?”

“Indeed.”

“Then by practice if not yet by
law, we are already married, are we not?”

He thought about that. “For all
intent and purposes, we are.”

“So if I wish for my husband to
lay with me, then it is perfectly proper. If he wants to ravage me, then it is
his right to do so. Is this also not so?”

He fought off a smirk. “It is not
as simple as you make it sound.”

She tried to sit up, but groaned
when her body refused. She lay on her back, her knees bent, hands on her
stomach. Her face was a mask of misery. “Now see what you have done?”

“What have I done?”

“You are arguing with me when you
should be comforting me.”

He gave up. “Oh, very well.” He
lay back down beside her. “Christ, I shall do anything if it will shut you up.”

She grinned triumphantly as he
gently gathered her into his warm embrace once more. She snuggled back against
him, perfectly content, perfectly happy. Kenneth had one hand on her forehead,
stroking her hair.

“Kenneth?”

“What is it, Aubrielle?”

She giggled. He could feel her.
“I think a woman has you by the throat.”

He growled. Rolling over, he
clamped the hand that had been on her forehead over her mouth. At the same
time, his heated mouth found her sweet little earlobe and he suckled it
furiously. It tickled like mad in an erotic, happy sort of way.  Aubrielle
screams of delight and frustration were for naught, muffled in the palm of
Kenneth’s massive hand.

***

“Kirk is a massive place,” de
Gaul said. “But she keeps her gates fairly open. It should not be difficult to
enter.”

Camped in the woods two miles
south of Kirk, the group of murderers cooked snared rabbits over an open
flame.  Brother Grendel sat nervously by the fire, listening to the sounds from
the haunted forest surrounding them, wondering how all of this was going to
end. If he could escape, then he could make it to Kirk and warn Lady Aubrielle.
But he was watched closely, always, and escape was not an option.

“We’ve been here for two days,”
another man said. He had a patch over an empty eye socket where once rested a
carved wooden eyeball. “We’ve seen enough. When are we going to move?”

“Patience, Athelred,” de Gaul
said. “We must move carefully. Barging into a heavily armed fortress will only
get us killed. We spoke of a plan last eve, if you recall.”

Athelred nodded, chewing on a
rabbit leg. “I remember. We pose as travelers looking for lodgings for one of
our sick men.  But who is going to be the sick one? I do not want a surgeon to
operate on me!”

“The surgeon will not operate on
you,” de Gaul said impatiently. “But custom dictates that the lord of the
castle cannot turn us away if we are bearing a sick man. They undoubtedly
cannot turn us away if we harbor a priest, but I cannot take the chance that
somehow Lady Aubrielle might become cognizant that Brother Grendel is in her
midst. No, we cannot allow that. He may spill our purpose.”

De Gaul winked boldly at the
friar, who simply turned away. He was repulsed by all of it. Grendel listened
to them bicker. Theirs was a weak plan, but it would get them into the castle
if only for a couple of days. That would be all they needed to find Lady Aubrielle. 
These were clever men, frightening men. They wanted the scroll, more
desperately now than ever before.

“We move on the morrow,” de Gaul
took a long swig of wine. “Thomas, you’ll be the sick one.” When the man he
indicated raised a loud protest, de Gaul waved his cup in the air. “Break his
leg! Make it good and bloody! And give Athelred a knock on the head that will
ring his bells. They’ll get us into the castle!”

The men roared their glee and the
hapless Thomas was left to fight a losing battle.  Somewhere in the darkness, a
healthy bone was snapped and a hard head received a hard knock upon it. Grendel
cringed, praying the rosary over and over, praying that Aubrielle Grace di
Witney was amply protected.

He could do nothing more now than
leave her in the hands of God.

CHAPTER
SIX

After the giggling, the tickling,
and more heated kisses that had stiffened Kenneth’s loins into a rock-hard
appendage, Aubrielle had fallen asleep to his warm breath against her neck. 
She was exhausted and, as much as he wanted to delight himself with her all
night, he knew that was not in her best interest.  She was new and exciting,
something to explore, but he reminded himself that soon they would be married
and he could spend the rest of his life exploring her. He stopped his
attentions long enough for her to calm down and drift off to sleep.

 Unfortunately for him, it was a
mental struggle to remove himself from her bed. He did not want to leave, but
he had more pressing concerns at the moment. Everett and Reid would be waiting
for him, as would Lucius, and he was determined to get to the bottom of what
had happened to Aubrielle.  He did not relish what he would discover, concerned
as to how he would react. The woman seemed to have the power to disrupt his
normally rock-steady control.

 But disengage himself he did.
The gray dog, having ended up on the floor when Kenneth lay upon the bed, was
placed back near the pillow. Strangely, he felt some comfort with the dog
watching over Aubrielle. The little animal had proven to be something of a
protector to her.

 He looked at the dog and put his
fingers to his lips in a silencing gesture. The dog wagged its tail happily,
but lay down obediently as if he understood Kenneth’s command. Kenneth grabbed
his boots and hastened from the chamber. The toothless servant was outside of
the door, sleeping on a pallet, and he gave strict orders that the lady was not
to be disturbed.  He did nothing more to ensure her security, confident the
perpetrator was still asleep in the knights’ quarters and under close guard.

He pulled on his boots and
descended the dark, treacherous stairs to the main living level. The great hall
was dark, the dogs near the hearth snoring in loud unison. There was a smell of
smoke and must in the air.  Making his way out into the dead of night, he saw
that there was a weak light emitting from the knight’s quarters.