The priest laughed at her terrified expression. “And that, my dear, is why you’re going to help me.” With a zealous grin, he dumped her into the water.
Chapter Fifteen
The relief that the ocean brought was a welcome one, and Leah’s thoughts became clear for the first time in days. Clear enough that she recognized the hate blazing out of the priest’s eyes as he watched her drag her tail up on the sand and wait to change back.
When she was done, she clutched the remnants of her sodden gown to her body and stared up at the priest. He stared down at her with an expressionless face, but his eyes could not hide his loathing. “A disgrace to God,” he murmured, but helped her to her feet and brushed sand off her skirts. “Come,” he said, his voice returning to the gentle tone it normally was. “We should return you to the keep before Lord Royce worries over you. That wouldn’t do well for my plans at all.”
Leah’s brows furrowed together.
He patted her arm, as if launching back into his role as fatherly advisor. “I’ll keep it simple for you. Any time that I approach and tell you that I’m to leave for my prayers and have my rosary in hand, you must do your part.”
She stared up at him, uncomprehending.
He gave her a pitying, condescending smile. “Seduce him, of course. Keep Lord Royce distracted so I may go about robbing his coffers.” He patted her on the back and released her. “I should think this would be easy enough for you, given your proclivities to share his bed already.
Do not disappoint me.”
Her fists clenched. She hated him.
He turned and walked away, heading down the beach in the opposite direction from her secret passage. “I must go. Remember what I have said and your life shall be preserved.” The chill in Leah’s soul did not go away, even when she slipped back into Royce’s bed.
Instead, she fell into an exhausted sleep. One without pain, one without physical strain, just sleep.
She slept for hours. Nightmares of the priest plagued her, and she bolted upright in the bed, chest heaving.
Next to her in the bed, a body shifted. “Leah?” Royce’s husky whisper pierced the darkness and he touched her arm, stroking one hand up her smooth flesh. “Are you all right?” She settled back in to bed next to him, still unsteady and shaking. The dream had seemed so real, and even lying in bed didn’t soothe her nerves. She had to do something about Father Andrew. But what?
The backside of her body was suddenly pressed against yards of hot, male form, and she felt his face nuzzle into the back of her neck. “You smell like the sea, Leah,” Royce mumbled against her hair. His arm tightened around her waist. “Go back to sleep.” She fell back into Royce’s arms, but sleep was longer in coming.
#
The next few days, Leah was pleased to find, passed without incident. She was able to sneak out during the daylight hours when Royce was overseeing the daily duties of the castle, and her nights she spent cuddled next to his side. He brought her easy things to eat – soups,
broths, mashes – and stroked her hair while she slept. He stayed in the bedchamber with her for hours, talking about his boyhood or asking her yes and no questions about herself.
The only thing marring her happiness was the priest’s sinister demand. Leah thought and thought, but no plan came to her that would work. If she didn’t do what he asked, he’d tell Royce her secret. Then she would die and she still wouldn’t be able to help Royce. So she kept thinking, hoping desperately for inspiration.
One evening, Royce shooed away the chambermaids after she’d eaten the nightly porridge that Maida insisted upon. Curious at his actions, Leah tilted her head and watched him from the bed, where she snuggled under the covers.
“Did you want a bath this eve, Leah?”
Her eyes widened and she stilled in the bed, all ease and laziness vanishing from her eyes. A bath would be a very bad idea. To try and deflect him, she shook her head and assumed her most pathetic expression, laying back on the bed and half-closing her eyes out of exhaustion.
Royce took the hint and moved to her side. “If you’re not feeling well enough to share my bed in all ways, Leah, I understand. But there’s no need to hint at weakness. You just tell me when you’re ready.” His eyes held a note of amusement.
Leah blushed at the thought and smiled back at him. He was a good man, for all his rough looks and hard edges. She slid a hand out to him and smiled shyly.
He took it, linking his hand with hers and giving her that hard-angled half-grin that made her knees melt. “Mind if we play questions again?”
He was fascinated with her, that much was obvious. And she could tell that her yes/no answers frustrated him, but intrigued as well. When she nodded her agreement, a wicked smile curved his mouth, sending her heart to fluttering. He leaned over her body and raked it with a
long glance, hands reaching for the voluminous chemise. “In exchange for letting you loll about in bed, I’m going to give you a good rub-down. It’ll make you feel better.” There was a downside to this?
He pulled the chemise over her head and stared down at her body. A low groan escaped his throat. “God’s bones, Leah, but you’ve got a beautiful body.” His hand slid across one thigh.
“Long and lean everywhere, and curved in the right places.” She didn’t have time to be embarrassed before he was flipping her over onto her stomach, his hands pinning her shoulders down on the bed before she could protest. “My rules, Leah. Let someone take care of you for a change.”
Before she could protest further, his fingers were on her stiff, bare shoulders, kneading, and oh, it felt wonderful. She froze for a moment, and then melted against his hands. They were rough, and callused, and strong, and they knew just where to touch her. A small whimper of unexpected pleasure escaped her throat.
He chuckled at the sound of it, and she felt his hands sweep down the length of her back.
“I suppose I should start asking before you fall asleep.” His touch slid down her waist and settled on her buttocks. “Does this feel good?”
She grinned and raised one finger with a lazy motion, the symbol they’d come to use for
‘yes’. Two fingers meant ‘no’.
A pleased look came over his angular face, and his hands moved lower, massaging her buttocks. “You have a lovely bottom, Leah. So round and firm.” She wiggled it against his hands suggestively, feeling very languid and nice, indeed.
“Has anyone ever touched you like this before?” His voice had dropped to a lower note.
Leah lifted a second finger, indicating ‘no’. She’d done her fair share of kissing, of course. But most of her dates had ended with some awkward fumbling and that was it, and she’d always been too busy with school to go after more. No one had ever touched her like Royce had, and he knew just where – and how – to make her body sing.
Hot fingers slid up and down her flesh, kneading and working out the tension in her muscles, up and down her thighs and back up to her ass. She felt his thumb slide along the crease between her legs, sending skitters of excitement through her body. “Another question… have you ever been married?”
An easy enough one to answer, if she could concentrate on the question and not on what his fingers were doing. She waved the two fingers at him again.
“No man in your life except me? I find that hard to believe.” He chuckled, and his fingers stroked between her legs again, just a brush of fingertips as he massaged her flesh, and Leah felt the soft whimper escape her throat once more. “What about your family? Are they still living?” Not living was the same as not yet born, Leah supposed, so she raised the two fingers at him again and gave him a sensual smile.
He grunted assent. “Not really surprised by that. I don’t know many men that would allow their well-bred daughters to become…” He stopped himself and she tensed under his hands, waiting for the inevitable shoe to drop. “The mistress to a bastard,” he finally finished, his voice taking on a hard edge. “I can only think that Baron Rutledge must have seemed like a prime choice compared to me.”
Leah turned over in the bed and sat up, looking up at him. The angles of his face were hard to read, but she detected a bit of self-loathing mixed in with the cynicism. He must have had a hard childhood, she thought. Unloved as a bastard, and then orphaned. Forgetting all about the
gentle seduction he was playing on her body, she moved to his side and tilted her face toward his, waving her two fingers in the air for ‘No’. Baron Rutledge would never be her choice.
He leaned down and gently kissed her mouth, the edges of his lips quirking up in a rueful smile. “Sometimes you’re too good to be true, Leah.” Royce’s fingers brushed a long lock of hair away from the edge of her face.
She smiled up at him, but her smile faltered. Too good to be true was right.
She was a fraud.
“I want to give you something,” he said, and left the bed, returning a moment later with a small velvet bag.
When he handed it to her, she was surprised at the weight of it. Leah gave him a surprised look, and when he gestured for her to open the bag, she did… and gasped at the sight. It was a jeweled belt. She pulled it out of the bag, staring at it in wonder. Golden rectangular links were hammered into small, flat links, each one adorned by a brilliant gemstone. The belt was long and linked at a circle in the waist, where it could lay flat against her pubic bone. It was lovely. It was expensive.
And looking at it, she knew she could never wear it around the keep. It was totally inappropriate for him to give her, and far richer than anything Ginny or the other castle women owned. It set her at a weird, uncomfortable place and flaunted her status. She clutched the links, torn between being touched by his thoughtfulness, and sad at the gift.
“Do you like it?”
What could she say? She leaned in and kissed him to show her thanks.
#
He wasn’t there when she awoke the next morning. Leah snuck down to the beach for a quick dip and was back before the sun was high in the sky. Ginny helped her dress, all smiles and chatter, and winked when Leah blushed at her prying questions. “Lord Royce is down visiting the blacksmith, Lady Leah, if you’d care to visit him.”
I must be really obvious
, Leah thought to herself with a rueful smile, and nodded at Ginny.
It took a little time to find her way outside. She didn’t know what the blacksmith’s foundry looked like, Leah realized, squinting at the bright afternoon sunlight. She only paused for a short time—the day was too lovely to spend upstairs. Her legs felt good, her body felt good, and she hadn’t seen the priest in the past few days. She gathered her skirts and began to walk the bailey, a smile on her face and her steps light.
A hut on the far end of the castle courtyard proved to be the smith’s domain. She could smell the scent of metal and smoke from a good distance away, and her steps gravitated toward that. A group of men stood outside, near a rather large horse. She noticed a familiar face holding the bridle – Christophe – and he had his hand on the large black beast’s muzzle.
He scowled in greeting at the sight of her. Well, she supposed, not everyone was going to love her. She wasn’t interested in his scowl, though, but in Royce’s broad shoulders and mussed hair – and damn fine legs – as he talked to the heavily muscled, squat man that was surely the blacksmith.
Perhaps this wasn’t a good time for her to interrupt. Hesitant, Leah hung back, clasping her hands and waiting patiently for Royce to finish. She studied him as she waited.
He listened to the smith complain, just nodded and asked questions. Royce leaned in and spoke to the blacksmith, putting his hand on the man’s shoulder. She leaned in as well, straining to hear what he said.
“Greetings, Leah.”
She froze at the sound of that voice. Once, she thought it was gentle and loving, but now the tone seemed overly sweet and unnatural. Leah turned slowly and offered a faint smile to Father Andrew in greeting, her hands fisting in her skirts.
He gave her a soft smile and moved to stand next to her. “Enjoying the weather? It’s a fine morning.” When she continued to stare at him, he tilted his head and regarded her. “Feeling better? You look much improved from when I saw you last.” Leah pasted on a wan smile. She gave him a quick nod, and then turned her attention back to Royce. Her skin prickled when she realized that Christophe was still watching her.
Royce had finished with the blacksmith and turned to her, the edges of a sensual smile on his face. The warmth in his eyes as he looked down at her was apparent. “Good afternoon, Father, Leah,” he said, his greeting for both of them, but the steamy look in his eyes was purely for her. He came to her side and took her hand in his. “What are you doing out of bed? Feeling better?”
Christophe’s narrowed eyes were still focused in on her, and his gaze darted to the priest.
She forced a brilliant smile to her face and nodded eagerly at Royce, looking up into his eyes.
She felt like a huge fraud.
“Is there a problem with the blacksmith, my lord?” Father Andrew’s soft, inquiring tones grated on Leah’s nerves. “He looks to be most distraught.”
Her gaze went back to the short, heavily muscled man as he disappeared back into the forge.
“Nothing that would concern you, Father.” Royce tucked Leah’s hand into the crook of his arm and placed his own over it, a possessive, endearing gesture that warmed her heart.
“There was a problem with the quality of some of the metal that was purchased prior to my retaking of the castle.”
“Indeed.” Father Andrew sounded ashamed. “I’m sorry to say that Baron Rutledge did not think highly of Gideon’s works in relation to the forge. He focused more on other things.” The look on Royce’s face was dismissive, and he gave the priest a curt nod when the old Baron’s name was brought up. “Yes, well, King Henry gave me leave to retake the castle, and I plan to fix a good many things now that it is mine again. I’ve given Gideon the funds – and the permission – to do the best work he sees fit, so you need not concern yourself with the matter.” He began to walk away from the forge, Leah tucked firmly at his side as he started across the courtyard.