Return of the Rose (19 page)

Hugo, too, stood speechless. Not far from the lake’s edge were a dozen maids wearing the tiniest bit of cloth. Lady Amanda twisted and turned, every gesture of hers shadowed by the other women.

A frown creased Derek’s brow.

Hugo could barely stop himself from bellowing great gales of laughter, at least until Derek pointed at Matti.

Hugo’s wife stood front and center within the group, fairly nude like the rest of them in those tiny bits of fabric.

Hugo paled considerably.

“It appears your dearest Matti is not awaiting your return so eagerly as you first thought,” Derek quipped.

“‘Tis the woman in charge that causes this outrage, my lord.” Hugo nodded to the most meagerly clad of woman with legs spread wide and fingers touching her toes.

Derek’s face heated and his blood surged at the sight of his betrothed. He motioned for the other men to take leave and make haste, but it was too late. More than two-dozen knights already surrounded the lake with assorted views. He could not instruct them all without being heard by the women below. “By God and Saint John, the woman is cause for ire! Where in damnation is Emmon?” Muttering obscenities, Derek made a sweeping gesture with his hand for those nearby to follow him back to the castle. He instructed Hugo to stay behind, but well hidden, to see that the women arrived back to Braddock unharmed. He would await his betrothed there and see what she had to say about this when she returned.

Hugo waved Lord Vanguard off, and then quickly turned back to watch. He was beginning to enjoy this sampling of his wife he’d never before seen. She was graceful in her gestures as she mimicked Lady Amanda. Her silver hair appeared streaked with golden highlights in the aglow of the sun’s last rays. His eyes then feasted on his wife’s breasts that appeared round and high, snug within the small pieces of fabric.

~~~~

The women were gay with laughter as they returned to Braddock. At least until they noticed the great puffs of smoke rising above the castle. Dozens of destriers were being fed and groomed outside the stables.

The men had returned.

The women quickly huddled together, talking quickly and all at once.

Morgan wasn’t sure what all the fuss was about until she heard talk of their being punished. One of the cooks was convinced they would be forced to go without food for a week. Another maid began to cry, sure that she was going to be sent packing.

“Do not fret, ladies,” Matti said, gesturing with a flick of her hand for all to follow. “Luck is on our side. The tower guards have taken leave for the time being and I know of an underground passage on the eastern side of the keep. We can enter the castle unnoticed,” she whispered as they moved past the orchard and through a field of tall weeds.

“Surely his lordship will order us to leave Braddock after he learns of our dallying,” another maid whined.

Morgan scoffed at that and said, “Lord Vanguard will never know. And even if he does find out, you don’t have to worry. I’ll take the blame. If he so much as lectures you, I will…” She rubbed her chin as she pondered what she would do exactly. “I will refuse to marry him. And he will fall to his knees and beg for our forgiveness.”

The women all chuckled, except Matti, who looked thoroughly exasperated as she led them to a patch of ground covered with rocks and leaves.

“Anything’s possible!” Morgan said teasingly. She liked these women. For the first time in her life she had friends. There was no way she was going to let Derek scare them off because of a harmless picnic.

After they finished removing at least a dozen rocks, Matti pushed aside a couple of wood planks. Morgan peered into the dark hole that disappeared into the ground like a giant gopher hole. Matti plunked down and began to crawl inside. “You don’t really expect us to go in there, do you?”

Judging by the scowl on Matti’s face, she did.

Reluctantly, Morgan plopped herself onto the ground. She dangled her legs into the dark hole, cringing as she climbed in. The tunnel immediately widened into an elaborate maze of dark, musty passages. Her heart pounded against her chest, but she was thankful there was room to walk instead of crawl. She cringed at the thought of all the bugs hidden in unseen crevices. Something crunchy crackled under her left slipper. She jerked her foot up and shook it wildly. Reaching forward, she grabbed onto Matti, having no desire to lose her in the dark. It was as black as tar, and she felt her throat tightening. Taking a deep, strangled breath, she told herself this was better than having Derek greet her and a dozen of his employees clothed in string bikinis. Then she remembered his so-called punishment and realized she’d probably been hasty in following Matti after all. A cunning grin curved her lips at the fleeting image of having him scold her as he carried her to the stretching device.

Matti tugged her along. A long wispy spider web slid across her face, making her skin crawl. “Where does that tunnel lead?” Morgan asked, pointing to another route they passed.

“That leads to the dungeons. Many men perished in those cells. Long before Lord Vanguard was ever born.”

“Does everyone know about these passages?”

“Truth be known, I am not sure,” Matti answered as she carefully maneuvered through the dark passageway. “Hugo used to hide in here when he was a small boy. But he left a trail of clues so that I could find him. That is how I first learned of the tunnels. We kept it our own little secret after that,” she said in a mischievous tone. “Braddock no longer has need for such passages though, since it is well protected. No man would dare lay siege to that which belongs to Lord Vanguard.”

It warmed her to know she wouldn’t have to worry about dodging flaming arrows or gathering buckets of hot tar while she was here.

There were murmurs of relief when they finally reached the end of the dank, musty tunnel. One at a time they followed Matti up a rickety wooden ladder that was thoroughly encased with the artwork of many spiders.

“This leads to the weaving room,” Matti said as she slowly pushed open the trapdoor.

All was clear.

“There is a trunk filled with clothing,” Matti said. “If your tunics are wet and you need to change be quick about it. After that, ‘tis each for themselves.”

Morgan and the rest of the women made it to their rooms unseen. Odelia, bless her heart, had left a bath for her. As she climbed into the warm water, she felt anticipation building at the idea of seeing Derek again after so many days.

After a quick bath, she dressed in a silky rose-colored kirtle and matching slippers. She flayed her head back and forth to help dry her hair, pinched her cheeks for color, and then hurried out the door.

Downstairs, knights and ladies abounded. Despite the noise, half a dozen men already slept on pallets before the fire. More than a few men-at-arms played chess, but the majority of men sat contentedly with their ladies wrapped in their arms.

Thankfully, most of the maids had stayed behind and prepared dinner. The men appeared famished. Gingerly, she tiptoed over meat scraps and chicken bones that had been casually tossed on top of the fresh rushes.

Serving maids with platters of veal, venison, rabbit, and duck scurried in and out of the kitchen. She’d never seen so much food in one place before. Already spread on the tables were huge wooden bowls filled with rice, figs, and raisins. Ale and wine abounded. The men seated at the tables ate and drank heartily.

The moment she spotted Derek sitting with his back to her at the far end of the table on the dais, her pulse quickened. She felt nervous and excited all at once. She had a strong desire to run her fingers through his hair and kiss him soundly. Instead, she grabbed one of the trays of warm bread from a serving maid and snuck up behind him.

She leaned over his shoulder, her chest pressed against him. “Perhaps some warm bread would help put an end to your ravenous appetite, my lord,” she said in a voice dripping with honeyed enthusiasm.

Without glancing around he reached back, turning slightly so he could pull her easily to his lap. Morgan gasped as the tray fell to the floor. He set his mouth full upon hers before she could say another word. A few men guffawed at their lord’s actions, but most were intent on finishing their meal and seeking out their own mate.

Derek’s eyes glimmered with mischief as he pulled away. “Oh, ‘tis only you.”

She elbowed him in the ribs. “You think you’re funny, do you?”

“Aye, that I do.”

“Well, I was going to tell you that I missed you, but never mind now.”

Derek shrugged.

Morgan frowned. There was something insufferable about a man being so arrogantly cocksure of himself. “So you don’t care whether I missed you or not?”

“‘Tis written all over your face. What need do I hath for you to speak of it when it is as clear as rainwater that you pined for me?”

“I didn’t pine for you, I…”

His warm mouth cut off her words. His lips felt full and inviting and her toes curled as she encircled his neck with her arms, quickly forgetting whatever they’d been discussing. He smelled of leather and herbs, and she closed her eyes, thoroughly enjoying being in his arms again. It had been too long without him. Much too long.

Derek nibbled at her neck and when she opened her eyes, he smiled down at her. “What did you do whilst I was away?”

“Oh, nothing much. I went to the village with Matti and Odelia. I helped Emmon in the garden…played with the children.”

“Ahhh, but what did you do this day?”

“Today?” Wide-eyed she looked to Matti at the far end of the table, but Matti was busy talking to Hugo. She worried her bottom lip as she glanced around the hall until her gaze fell back on Derek. “You’re hurt,” she said, gesturing at the sight of bandages beneath the open vee of his shirt.

“Nay, I am well.”

“You’ve been hurt. Let me take a look at it.”

He held her back. “Since you were not here to greet me that lovely new wench, Sarah, saw to it. She did a fine job tending to me, I must say.”

“She did, did she?”

His gaze fell to her hand as it rested on his thigh. The light stubble covering his chin brushed against her cheek as he whispered, “Fair damsel, do I dare hope that you are impatient for my bed?”

Shivers coursed up her spine. His words rang true, causing an inner heat to spread between her thighs and through her belly. Looking upon his handsome face, she noticed his magnificent dark brows curved so neatly above sparkling brown eyes. She gazed at his firm, sensuous mouth and then looked into his eyes and regarded him provocatively.

“It seems, my lord,” Hugo interrupted from across the table, speaking loud so that he could be heard above the noise, “that the women here have been sewing and weaving all day, hoping to pass the time as they waited anxiously for our return. But I questioned my dear wife on that, for does she not wear an unusually healthy glow?”

Morgan rolled her eyes when at least six serving maids darted from the room, heading toward the kitchen.

“I dare say you are right my friend,” Derek added, “for Matti’s healthy glow turns healthier as we speak. I do believe my betrothed wears that same sun-kissed gleam.” He turned to Morgan. “Do your fair cheeks hint of a bit more color, or could it be that my vision is blurred this eve?”

Morgan swallowed the lump in her throat. “It was awfully warm when we went to the village a few days ago. Blistering hot if I do recall correctly. Isn’t that right, Emmon?”

Emmon glared at her as if she were the most farcical, senseless creature he’d ever laid eyes on.

Many of the knights and ladies within the hall stopped whatever they were doing and looked in her direction.

As she opened her mouth again, she noticed everyone looking past her instead of at her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a Fabio look-alike holding her wet bikini, letting it dangle precariously from his thumb and forefinger. She’d accidentally left the bathing suit in the weaving room. Her face heated.

Fabio shot her an apologetic glance. Apparently he only wished to relieve her of bothering with another lie. Not knowing what else to do, she turned back to Derek and playfully kissed his cheek, laughing as if she’d been in on the joke all along. The room remained deathly quiet until Derek shook his head unable to stop the corners of his mouth from turning upward. The castle folk must have realized their lord wasn’t going to throw anyone in the dungeons because they quickly resumed their chattering.

Morgan put a hand on Derek’s chest. His half smile had already disappeared, his expression unreadable except for the flexing of lean muscle beneath a stern jaw.

“What harm could a little outing do?” she asked quietly.

“The people here at Braddock have a routine,” he answered firmly, calmly. “It takes many servants to keep Braddock running smoothly, something that would not be possible if I were to let them run off and play at will.”

She leaned forward and whispered so that only he could hear her, “I’m sorry. I only fibbed in hopes that you would punish me severely for my actions. In fact, I think justice could only be served if I accept the punishment intended for each and every maiden who had no choice but to follow in my indecent behavior.”

Small lines appeared at the corner of Derek’s eyes as the humor of the situation dawned on him. “Only you, my lady, could manage to turn a serious offense into a laughable matter. Keep smiling upon me in such a palatable manner and I may sentence you to far more than one night in my torture chamber.” He stood up with her still cradled in his arms, pushed aside a chair with his leg and carried her across the hall and up the stairs.

By the time they reached his room, their fingers tugged frantically at each other’s fastenings. Eagerly, as if her very life depended on stripping him bare, Morgan helped him remove his shirt, sighing heavily as her palms slid over his brawny chest, careful to stay away from his injury. She nibbled his neck and raked her fingers though his hair as he removed his boots.

Before Derek could rip another dress from her body, she untied it and slipped it off. He tossed his breeches to the floor and they stood together, standing quietly for a moment, touching and exploring until their bodies became entwined in feverish abandon as though this moment together was their last.