Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01 Page 4

  Nearly undone by the sensation of her warm breath on his neck, he took a deep breath to cool his raging desire. He clenched his teeth with an audible snap as Reina shifted slightly, bringing the palm of his hand in contact with the side of her breast.

  Her slight intake of breath had him reaching his hand up. Caressing the side of her face with his calloused fingertips, he gently cupped her chin. Seeing her tongue dart out to moisten her full lower lip was his undoing. His fingers slid through her silken tresses as he bent his head to claim her lips.

  Unprepared for the searing heat the touch of her lips stoked to life, he groaned in abject defeat. Drawing her closer against him, he deepened the kiss. Stroking her lower lip lightly with his tongue, he coaxed her to open to him, slipping inside to join with hers as soon as she complied.

  He had never had such a reaction to a woman before. Somehow, he knew no other woman, except this woman, would ever make him feel this way again.

  Slanting his lips against hers, he sought more as Reina’s arm tightened around his waist to bring him closer. When he felt her shiver, he struggled for control, his only desire to find a warm bed to follow her down.

  The thought of debasing such an innocent gave him the strength to pull away, leaving them both gasping for breath. Resting his chin against her temple, he exhaled heavily into the flowing mass of her hair.

  Trailing his fingertips lightly along the side of her face, he cursed himself for his weakness. This woman, above all others, deserved someone better than him. She deserved to be loved, an emotion he had not felt in so long, he no longer felt capable of feeling it.

  He felt her tense in his arms as they passed through the gate. Frustrated he could not communicate with her, he could only wonder what she now thought of him.

  Entering the courtyard, Warin stepped forward to lift Reina down. “The keep shall be stirring soon, my liege,” he said anxiously.

  Fulke passed him the reins as soon as he dismounted. “Be at ease lad. None shall hear of this night’s events from my lips.”

  “Thank you, my liege.” Casting a quick glance at Reina, he led the horse away.

  Reina grasped a handful of skirt to turn for the keep. Before she could take a step, Fulke gently held her by the arm, preventing her flight.

  Tipping her chin up, he reverently traced the lines of her face with his fingertips. “Forgive me, Reina.”

  TWO

  Reina spent the remaining hours before dawn staring out her chamber window. Lost in thought, the stars began to fade as the sun broke the horizon. Replaying the feel of Fulke’s lips on hers, she intended to commit every moment with him to memory, believing it would have to last her a lifetime.

  Drawing away from the window, she splashed cold water on her face. Combing the long length of her hair, she left it unbound. She slipped on a chemise, before donning a fresh under dress of white with a kirtle of dark green. Snatching up her cloak, she peered into the empty passage before stepping out.

  Intent on being away from the keep before her father or Baldith awakened, she hastened down the passage. Passing Fulke’s door, she envisioned him asleep in bed and blushed at her own boldness.

  Upon entering the kitchen, she crossed to the locked door of the larder where she retrieved a sliver of metal from beneath a loose flooring slate. With a quick glance at the entryway, she picked the iron padlock to slip inside the small dark room. Feeling her way to the barrels lined along the far wall, she wrapped several apples in a linen cloth along with a wedge of cheese from the shelf above.

  Hungry, her hand hovered over the barrel until she convinced herself to take one more apple. With a small smile for her act of defiance, she snapped the lock back into place and replaced the pick. Relieved she had gotten away with her theft, she rushed from the hall.

  * * * *

  After lying awake in torment for hours, Fulke finally fell into a fitful sleep. Even then, he could not escape Reina. In his dreams, she called to him. The one place he could not stop himself from answering.

  The sun shone from high overhead by the time he made an appearance in the Great Hall. Relieved to find himself alone, he stepped outside. Hearing raised voices, he passed through the outer gate to find his men gathered in the practice yard.

  Gervase, Guy and Osbert were grouped around Warin, laughing. Talan stood apart watching in silence as Albin leaned on the rail to the lists, shaking his head at the young trio.

  Feigning a frown, Fulke called, “I see you louts are busy showing our host how well trained you are.”

  Albin chuckled, “More like the addle-pates are putting on a show for your young page, vying for an introduction to his older sister. They seem to think they stand a chance since she cannot hear the prattle they spout.” Glancing back at the younger men, he swore, “Fie, she is wise enough to refuse you bunch of landless dolts.”

  His frown no longer feigned Fulke felt an irrational wave of resentment.

  Albin, the oldest knight at nine past a score was the wisest of the four.

  His dark wavy hair, dark brown eyes and quick-wit had wooed scores of women. His best friend since childhood, there was no man he trusted more.

  Talan, the quiet knight, at one score and four. The most honorable of his knights. His light brown hair and soulful blue-gray eyes attracted women like moths to a flame.

  Guy the romantic, close in age to Talan. His dark curly mane and flashing blue eyes left more than one broken-hearted lady in his wake. The poet of the group, his sonnets were recited throughout the realm.

  Then there was Gervase, the youngest knight at three past a score. Reckless and daring with more brawn than brain, he happened to be the most handsome. With sun-streaked bronze hair and piercing blue eyes, he was never long without a willing woman.

  Lastly, his young squire, Osbert, three years older than Warin, with boyish face, flaxen hair and smooth cheeks. He resembled more fair lass than future knight.

  These were his men, his only family. Without question, he would willingly lay down his life to protect them. Yet the thought of Reina with any one of them drove him to anger.

  “Warin, fetch my horse.” He leveled a cold eye on the remaining men. “I suggest the rest of you slackers be saddled before he returns.”

  As the younger men rushed past Fulke to retrieve their horses, Albin remained behind. “Why so tense this morn, Fulke?”

  Relaxing his clenched fists, Fulke ignored the question.

  “The Mistress Reina is a beauty, is she not?” Albin pressed.

  Slanting his gaze to Albin, he snapped, “Mind your own affairs.”

  “Now what would be the fun in that?” With a chuckle, Albin jogged off towards the stables.

  Busy putting the men through the paces, Fulke intended to drive all thought of Reina from their minds. Impressed by Warin’s skill with a sword, he had Osbert engage him in mock combat.

  The rest of the men quit the jousting field to watch. Riding up to join him, they began to take wagers as the wood practice swords made resounding thwacks. Lunging forward, Osbert managed to catch Warin off balance. Stumbling back, his free arm flailing, he landed in the dirt with a thud.

  Osbert reached down to give Warin a hand up as Fulke called to them, “Well done, lads.”

  A distant flash of golden-red caught his attention. As if his thoughts conjured her, Reina appeared at the bottom of the hill, her unbound hair swirling about her in the cool day’s breeze.

  Following his gaze, Gervase reined around with a low whistle. “Mistress Reina returns from the village. How about that introduction now, lad?” he called to Warin.

  Before Warin could respond, Albin reined up beside Gervase. Leaning over, he cuffed him on the back of the head. “How about paying a mind to the task at hand, lout.”

  Gervase cringed, rubbing the sore spot as the rest of the men laughed.

  Without thinking, Fulke spurred his horse in the direction of the village, ignoring Albin’s bark of laughter.

  Reina drew to a halt
as he reined up beside her. Dismounting, he gathered the reins in one hand.

  He smiled as a blush stained her cheeks. “It pleases me to see you suffer no ill effects from your moonlight dip, Mistress Reina.”

  She shyly returned his smile, before biting her lip.

  Sensing her frustration, Fulke sobered. Regardless of their watching audience, he stepped closer to her.

  “I am willing to follow, if you are willing to lead me mistress.”

  “I would like that, my lord.” Reina slowly formed the words.

  Amazed, Fulke realized if he stared directly at her lips, he could understand her. He repeated her words to be sure. “You would like that, mistress?”

  “I would, my lord.” She smiled up at him.

  “I never would have believed it possible,” he breathed.

  Nearing the courtyard, Reina paused. “I wish to thank you for fostering Warin, my lord.”

  Catching a lock of hair wafting around her face, he smoothed it behind her ear. “You seem particularly fond of each other.”

  “Aye, Warin gave me a new life. Without him, I never would have learned to communicate as I do.” Her eyes clouded with sadness. “I shall miss him very much.”

  “Castell Maen is not that far of a journey from Kenwick,” he said to cheer her. “I shall release him to visit as often as he wishes.”

  “His mother will be very happy to hear that, my lord.”

  “And you Reina? What would it take to make you happy?” With a will of their own, his hands were reaching for her…

  “There you are your lordship.” The caustic voice stopped him like a blow from the quintain.

  With a groan, he briefly closed his eyes before dropping his hands. Glancing towards the keep, he drew Reina’s gaze to Baldith and Sibilla.

  Spotting the women, he heard Reina’s soft indrawn breath.

  He touched her sleeve to ask, “Is aught amiss, Mistress Reina?”

  Before she could answer, Baldith closed the distance. “Your lordship. Sibilla has been waiting for some time to escort you to the falconry. It is one of the best in the realm and Sir Everard so wishes for you to see it.”

  “Perhaps another time, Lady Baldith,” he coolly replied.

  Seizing Reina’s arm, Baldith jerked her from his side. “My husband’s daughter must prepare herself for Father Godfrey’s long overdue visit, your lordship.”

  “I am sure she can walk without your assist,” he replied rudely.

  “She is addled, your lordship. I am charged with seeing to her welfare.”

  Without giving Fulke a chance to respond, she practically dragged Reina to the small chapel in a shadowed corner of the courtyard.

  Frowning after them, Sibilla firmly clasped his arm, leading him in the opposite direction.

  * * * *

  Baldith forcefully shoved Reina inside the stone structure as soon as she snatched the door open. Stalking in after her, she pulled the door shut with a bang.

  Before Reina could straighten to move away, Baldith swung around, viciously slapping her. “You worthless daughter of a whore.”

  Reina stumbled back, almost falling. Yet, she did not miss the words spoken against her mother. Raising her hand to the bleeding cut on her cheek from one of Baldith’s rings, she straightened, glaring in defiance at the woman who had been nothing but cruel to her.

  Narrowing her eyes, Baldith raised her hand to strike again when the chapel door burst open, ripped from its leather hinges. A furious Warin stood framed in the doorway.

  Breathing hard from his race across the courtyard, he snarled, “Mother, what do you think you are doing?”

  Reina rushed to his side, afraid of what her father would do to him for disobeying Baldith. Gripping his sleeve, she willed him to look at her. “Please Warin, do not do this.”

  Pulling his arm away, he shook his head. “No longer will I feel shame for not protecting you.”

  Facing his mother, he fumed, “Henceforth, you shall keep your hands to yourself, mother.”

  “She brings it on herself by disobeying, Warin.”

  “You may deceive my father with that drivel, but not me,” he scoffed.

  “Baron Erlegh has close connections to the king himself. I will not allow her to ruin Sibilla’s chances.”

  “Reina has ruined naught.”

  “She has ruined everything,” his mother came close to shrieking. “Every nobleman intended for Sibilla, lusts after the lack-wit.”

  “Perchance they like the challenge she presents over the ease in which they can sport with Sibilla.”

  Following the conversation, Reina gasped.

  “You dare question your sister’s virtue?” his mother asked in disbelief.

  “Aye I do. You would be surprised what men let slip when they think a lad cannot understand what they speak. Your precious Sibilla has been entertaining father’s men for years now. It is a wonder she does not already have a brood of bastards clinging to her skirts.”

  “You shall not speak ill of your sister,” his mother screeched, spittle flying from her thin pinched lips.

  Warin stalked forward, forcing her to step back in alarm. “Reina is also my sister.” Fisting his hands, he ground out, “Think you, I am ignorant of your treatment of her?”

  “You would take her side over that of your own mother’s?”

  “I will take her side over anyone’s.” At her look of outrage, he continued, “Know this as well, mother. Unless you change your ways, when I am Lord of Kenwick, there will be no place for you within my hall.”

  Tears of panic glittered in Baldith's dark eyes. “How can you be so cruel to your own flesh and blood?”

  “I learned from the best,” he scoffed bitterly.

  “Keep her away from his lordship, Warin. Or I shall.” With a last glare at Reina, she stormed from the chapel, stumbling across the fallen door on her way out.

  Seeing her go, Reina collapsed sobbing onto the dirt floor.

  Kneeling beside her, Warin wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Tipping her chin up so she would look at him. “She is unworthy of your tears, Reina.”

  He held her as she released the misery she had tried so hard to keep hidden from him.

  Raising her tear-streaked face to his, he leaned back to wipe her cheeks with the hem of his tunic.

  She flinched when he blotted the cut high on her cheek.

  “I shall be there the day I obtain my knighthood, Reina. I vow it.”

  Cupping his cheek, she looked at him through shining eyes. “Just be happy Warin. It is all I ask of you.”

  * * * *

  Stepping over the lip of the bathing tub, Fulke slipped into his black silk dressing gown. Running his fingers through his wet hair, he replayed the odd confrontation with Lady Baldith in the courtyard. Seeing it as a ploy to separate him from Reina, it angered him Baldith would consider him fool enough to believe otherwise.

  Forced to accompany Sibilla to the mews, he soon realized she knew nothing about the birds of prey housed there. Sir Everard did have an impressive array of hawks and falcons. Interested in stocking his own mews at Castell Maen, he spoke at length to the falconer as Sibilla stayed as far away from the birds as possible. Seeing her obvious aversion to the place, he lingered for some time.

  Mentally planning his stock of gyrfalcons, sakers and lanners, he heard the door open, assuming serfs had come to drain the tub.

  Hearing Sibilla’s shrill voice, he whirled around in surprise. “I hope this is not a bad time, Fulke.”

  Her eyes stroked leisurely over the length of him. Clothed in bright red and blue, Sibilla’s plain, broad features appeared even more sallow.

  Crossing the chamber towards him, she slowed her pace when he scowled. Stopping altogether, when he coldly replied, “As a matter of fact, it is a highly inappropriate time, Mistress Sibilla. To be so bold, one would be led to believe that you have an unchaste familiarity with male visitors.”

  Her callous regard of Reina made it near
impossible for him to be chivalrous, having her brazenly attempt to seduce him, he would not abide. If someone were to see them in such a compromising situation, he would be forced to accept her.

  Rudely brushing past her, he strode to the door to open it. “I shall see you in the hall at supper, Mistress Sibilla.”

  Stepping past, she brushed up against him to pause in the doorway. A smug smile lifting her thin lips, she boldly laid a hand on his chest.

  Following her gaze down the passage, he locked on Reina’s pain-filled face. Before he could speak, she lowered her eyes.

  He called to her as she rushed past, “Reina, please...” Realizing his mistake, he cursed.

  Moving to brush past Sibilla, she blocked his path. “No need Fulke, she cannot tell anyone.” Sibilla laughed at her own joke.

  Furious, Fulke bit his tongue to stop himself from uttering a harsh reply. Roughly pulling away from her grip, he re-entered his chamber.

  “Code of Chivalry, be damned,” he snarled, slamming the door in her surprised face.

  Imagining what Reina must be thinking, he hastened to dress. He would not have her believe anything had happened with Sibilla.

  Recalling the mar on her cheek, his fury threatened to overwhelm him. He had no doubt, what caused it.

  In the short time since he had known Reina, he had caused her nothing but pain. Slamming his fist into the oak wardrobe, he clenched his teeth to keep from shouting out in agony.

  * * * *

  On the verge of tears, Reina entered the hall to answer her father’s summons. Sitting at the table beside Baldith, they looked up at her approach. Focusing on their guest, she crossed the hall to join them.

  Father Godfrey stood with a welcoming smile on his warm, round face.

  Reaching the table, he extended a hand to her. “What a pleasure it is to see you again, Mistress Reina. I beseech you pardon an old priest his belatedness.”

  Too distraught to smile, Reina lightly squeezed his hand. Balding with merry blue eyes, Father Godfrey had always been kind to her.