Cast Love Aside (32 page)

“Norbard beat you?” Gilbert asked. “That
cowardly cur!”

“Aye, yer right about that, me lad,” Captain
Piers said. Turning to Magnus, who had come up the net just after
Lilianne, the captain added with barely controlled fury, “No man is
goin' ta tell me what ta do or who ta carry on me own ship, and ye
can so inform Lord Royce when next ye see him. 'Tis a matter o'
honor wi' me, and if his lordship doesn't like it, he can bloody
well find other transport for his people!”

“After Royce hears our report of Norbard’s
treachery, he'll never want to use the man again,” Magnus said, “so
you won’t be troubled to deny him passage or quarrel with Royce
about him. Norbard has been secretly working for the French.”

“Well, then,” Captain Piers responded,
looking only slightly mollified by Magnus's explanation, “will ye
kindly tell me what’s goin’ on here? One o’ me men is wounded, and
ye’ve brought two extra passengers with ye fer the homeward
voyage.”

“Captain,” Lilianne said, placing a hand on
Gilbert's shoulder, “this is my brother, and the other new
passenger is Magnus's brother. Norbard was holding both of them
prisoners, until we rescued them.” It wasn't the entire truth, but
she thought the explanation would satisfy Captain Piers.

“We acted on Lord Royce's orders,” Magnus
added.

“An' I suppose Lord Royce is willin' ta pay a
double fare for each o' them?” Captain Piers asked.

“Of course, he will,” Lilianne told him.

“An' extra fer the bandages and wine ye'll be
needin' ta treat all the wounds?”

“Certainly,” Magnus said. “Lord Royce will be
so glad to see these two men that he will happily pay their
fares.”

Lilianne watched Gilbert stand up a bit
straighter at being called a man. She also saw how Magnus was
struggling to keep himself upright while a puddle of reddish salt
water formed around his left foot. Magnus's hose were slashed just
above his left knee, revealing a wound that could prove to be
seriously debilitating – or life threatening, if the cut should
fester.

“Has Braedon has taken the wounded men
below?” Lilianne asked, keeping her voice steady so as not to
reveal how concerned she was about Magnus.

“Aye,” Captain Piers said. “I sent them ta
the same cabins as before. I expect ye ta take care o' yer own
people.”

“We'll do better than that,” Lilianne
promised. “We will also care for your man who was hurt in our
cause. My brother will help me.”

“Yes,” Gilbert spoke up, “I will.”

Over the next hour, while Magnus insisted the
others must be tended before his own wounds were treated, Gilbert
proved to be a fine help. Told to hold William down so Lilianne and
Braedon could sew up the gash in his side, which was the wound most
urgently in need of care, Gilbert did not flinch. His youthful
hands were firm and steady on William's shoulders until the job was
done. Afterward, Gilbert wiped William's clammy face with a damp
cloth and offered him a bit of wine.

“William, I expect you to heal soon,”
Lilianne told him. “Alice will have my head if you don't.”

“I'll try my best,” William promised. “How I
long to see Alice again.”

“You will be at Richton by tomorrow
afternoon,” Lilianne promised.

The oarsman was next in line for treatment.
He had sustained a minor cut on his shoulder, which Lilianne bathed
in wine and bandaged with a strip of clean linen before sending the
sailor to his bunk with orders to sleep for a time.

Meanwhile, Braedon and Gilbert were tending
to Desmond. The wound to his arm wasn’t deep, but Desmond was so
seriously debilitated by hunger and imprisonment that his recovery
was likely to be prolonged. When Braedon told him to lie down on
one of the bunks and try to sleep, Desmond made no protest.

“It will be a pleasure to rest on something
other than a damp cell floor,” he remarked, stretching out and
closing his eyes.

“Magnus, you need a bandage, too,” Lilianne
said. “You've been standing all this time.”

“Take him into the other cabin,” Braedon
advised. With a teasing grin he handed the remaining wine and linen
to Lilianne. “Call me if he causes any trouble. I'll be glad to
hold him down for you. But if you don't need me, I'll stay here to
watch over William and Desmond.”

“So will I,” Gilbert offered. “It's only fair
for me to help Sir Desmond now.”

Lilianne could think of no reason to object.
Her little brother was growing up even as she watched. After the
dangers of the past two days, she yearned to put her arms around
him and hug him, but she didn't think the newly mature Gilbert
would care for so emotional a gesture. She contented herself with a
smile at him before she followed Magnus to the smaller cabin.

“I forbid you to cut off my hose,” Magnus
warned her. “I neglected to bring a second pair along and I refuse
to ride into Richton Castle looking like a barelegged
stableboy.”

“Very well. I'll sew up the tear after I see
to your wound,” Lilianne said, repressing a giggle at the pride of
males both young and full-grown.

Out of deference to Magnus’s masculine pride,
she did not offer to help him, but let him remove the hose by
himself. Keeping her back turned she set out the flask of wine and
the linen, waiting until he sat on the bunk where they had made
love less than two days ago.

Magnus’s uncovered legs were long and
straight, and powerfully muscled. Except for the seeping gash above
his left knee, those legs were the very perfection of manly
strength and beauty. She squatted before him, frowning at his
injury.

“It could have been much worse,” he said,
sounding indifferent to the pain and the damage.

“Yes.” Lilianne swallowed hard and sent up a
silent prayer to heaven that he was right. In her attempt to clean
the wound thoroughly she poured most of the wine into it.

“Are you bent upon a permanent maiming?”
Magnus asked.

He sounded as if he was joking, but when
Lilianne finished tying the bandage and glanced up at him, she saw
how pale he was.

“Lie down and rest,” she ordered.

“Nonsense.” Defying her, he stood, weaving a
bit. “I'm going to look in on the others, and then I am going on
deck.”

“William and Desmond need to sleep
undisturbed.” Lilianne eyed him with concern. “And I do believe
Captain Piers is capable of finding the port of Hythe without your
assistance. Furthermore, in case you’ve forgotten, you are not
wearing hose. Lie down, Magnus.”

“Only if you lie down with me,” he responded.
“You really ought to remove that wet dress before you catch a
chill. If you do, I'll take off my tunic, and we can keep each
other warm while our clothes dry.”

The look in his eyes and the upward curve of
his lips warmed Lilianne's heart. When Magnus smiled at her, she
forgot her concern over Gilbert's future and her own. All she could
think of was how much she loved him. She tugged her sodden wool
gown over her head and hung it from a peg on the wall.

“This, too,” Magnus said, pulling at her
shift.

By the time she stood naked before him, his
remaining garments were gone and it was plain to see that rest was
not his immediate intent.

“How bold we are,” she murmured, reaching to
caress the three-day stubble of his black beard. “How utterly
shameless.”

“After what we've achieved, we deserve an
hour or two of peace.” His arms were tight around her and his voice
was a soft growl in her ear. Lilianne sighed with happiness.

She very quickly began to appreciate the
advantage of a small cabin. All she had to do was lean backward
until she fell upon the bunk, pulling Magnus down on top of her.
She heard him wince as his knee struck the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” she cried.

“Forget it,” he said. “The wound doesn't
matter. There were moments during the last few days when I feared
I'd never hold you this way again, never feel your warm skin
against mine. Now that I have you alone, I mean to enjoy you.”

His mouth descended on hers in a deep and
urgent kiss. His great size and strength crushed her into the thin
mattress of the bunk. Desire rose in Lilianne, hot and sweet. She
began to caress him, her fingers stroking over his broad shoulders
and down his spine. Magnus shuddered under her touch, holding
nothing back from her, letting her know how much he wanted her. His
mouth and his hands cherished her until Lilianne was half mad with
longing. As his hardness pressed against her moist warmth she
opened her eyes to find him gazing at her with mingled tenderness
and sorrow.

“Magnus?” She tried to form a question, to
ask him what was wrong, but she was hovering too close to the edge
of ecstasy. She couldn't think clearly while Magnus was moving into
her, his body filling hers in a slow, delicious possession. When he
caught her face between his hands and stared into her eyes, she
couldn't speak a single word.

“Lilianne, my love,” he whispered. “My dear,
dear love.”

Passion captured her, shattering her senses
as Magnus drove into her again and again, his mouth catching her
wild cries. Eagerly she met his every thrust until she shattered
into a thousand flaming pieces. He surged against her one last time
and went still.

“Lilianne!” He collapsed upon her, burying
his face in her neck.

Only then did Lilianne realize that she was
weeping. Awkwardly, reaching around Magnus's shoulders, she wiped
the tears away. He didn't move. It took a moment or two before she
realized he was asleep, worn out by the responsibility of keeping
his comrades alive and of getting all of them safely out of France.
She thought he had expended the very last of his strength in making
beautiful love to her.

Fresh tears poured from her eyes. Not wanting
to disturb his rest, she bit her lips to stop the sobs. She wrapped
her arms around him and held him close, knowing it might well be
her last opportunity. After a while she drifted into sleep, too.
She didn't waken until the shouts of sailors on deck told her they
had reached Hythe. By then, Magnus was gone and she was alone.

When Lilianne reached the cabin where the
wounded men were, it was immediately apparent that an argument was
in progress. Gilbert saw her and shrugged his shoulders in a
gesture that told her he had decided to stay out of the
dispute.

“I believe we can find a cart for hire at the
stable where we left our horses,” Braedon was saying to Magnus.
“Despite what they claim, you can see for yourself that neither
William nor Desmond is strong enough to ride all the way to
Richton.”

“I refuse to be dragged about the countryside
like the carcass of some half-dead animal!” Desmond exclaimed. “I
will enter Richton Castle on horseback, or not at all.”

“I refuse to alarm Alice by arriving on my
back,” William insisted. “If Desmond can ride, so can I.”

“William, any fool can see how weak you are,”
Braedon told his friend. “If you try to control a horse, your wound
will tear open again before you even reach the outskirts of Hythe.
As for you, Desmond, your feet are badly swollen and you are
feverish.”

“I don’t intend to use my feet,” Desmond
said. “I shall ride a horse, like any other knight who’s worth his
bread.”

“Until you reach Richton and I hand you over
to Royce, you will do as you’re told,” Magnus reminded him with a
cold glare.

“Why don’t you both ride pillion?” Lilianne
suggested.

“Like a woman, or a servant? Never!” Desmond
responded with a snort of disgust.

“I’m sorry to hear you say so, because I
intended to ask a favor of you,” Lilianne said. When Desmond turned
his head away from her with an affronted air, she ventured a wink
at Gilbert, hoping he would understand what she was trying to do
and cooperate with her. “Sir Desmond, I wish you would consent to
ride behind Gilbert, to hold him in the saddle. My brother is a
fair horseman, but I fear he’s not yet recovered enough from his
ordeal to be able to sit a horse for more than a few minutes.”

“That sounds like a very good idea,” Gilbert
responded to her remarks with a perfectly straight face. “I do,
indeed feel a bit weak today.”

“Erland deserves a severe punishment for what
he did to you,” Desmond said, regarding Gilbert with frowning
concern. “Of course, I’ll be glad to help you, lad.”

“I will be most grateful,” Gilbert told him.
To Lilianne, he added in an innocent tone, “Perhaps, dear sister,
Sir William will kindly agree to keep you in your saddle, since you
have
never
been much of a horsewoman.”

William knew perfectly well that she was a
fine horsewoman. By the look on his face, Lilianne could see he
didn’t believe a word of any of Gilbert’s claims, or hers, either.
But Braedon exchanged a glance with Magnus and spoke before William
could say anything.

“Well, then,” Braedon declared, bestowing his
most charming smile on the two wounded men, “that’s settled. As
soon as I can leave the ship, I’ll take myself off to the stable
and retrieve our horses. I’ll bring them here to the dock so no one
will have to walk more than a few paces from the gangplank. In the
meantime, Magnus, I believe Captain Piers has a rather pithy
message for you to deliver to Royce.”

Braedon went out. Magnus followed, but he
paused at Lilianne’s side to catch the hand she was holding fisted
in the folds of her gown. Gently he unclenched her fingers so he
could rub his thumb across her palm. The unhappy look in his eyes
made her want to weep. On the day when they should have been
rejoicing over the success of their mission, the knowledge that
they would soon be parted, that Magnus must return to his duties as
a knight in King Henry’s service while she was facing a most
uncertain future, tore at her heart. Though Gilbert’s life was
safe, his lands remained in French hands, and Lilianne possessed no
dowry. The lord of Sainte Inge and his sister were paupers.