Daughters of the Dagger 04 - Amethyst (4 page)

His hand went to fondle one of her breasts, while he used his other hand to push up her gown, wedging his knee between her legs to part them. Then to his horror, there was a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” he called over his shoulder, still in position to take her. But before he had his answer, her knee rose up hard – to meet with his groin. “Ummph!” He doubled over and backed away in pain as the little vixen slipped out from under him and made her way to the door. She pulled it open quickly, enabling him to see his squire with his arms loaded down with some of his clothing and belongings.

“I brought some of your things, my lord. Where do you want me to put them?”

“Back in his own solar,” answered Amethyst, angered by what just happened, yet at the same time curious and also excited. But she wouldn’t let Lord Marcus know she’d almost let him make love to her. She was sure he was used to taking any woman he wanted, and she refused to be just another pawn in one of his little games.

“Lord Montclair?” His squire looked over the top of the pile of clothes with wide eyes when he saw Amethyst. Then his head snapped around and he spotted Marcus doubled over next to the bed and holding his groin. Amethyst almost laughed aloud at his reaction. “Oh, I am sorry, my lord, I didn’t realize you were entertaining a woman,” he said. “I can come back later.”

“
Don’t bother to leave. I assure you, Lord Montclair was anything but entertaining,” spat Amethyst. “And I’ll be staying here while I’m working for him, so you can just put his things back in his own chamber.”

“Of course, my lady,” the squire answered
, and headed for the door.

“No you won’t,
” shouted Marcus from the bed, finally standing up straight. “You’ll do no such thing. Now put my clothing in the wardrobe.”

The squire stopped in his tracks and turned around. “Aye, my lord. I will do so at once.” He started for the wardrobe,
the anti-chamber adjoining the bedchamber that was used to store clothes and other items.

Just then several pages arrived at the open door with Amethyst’s trunks and travel bags.

“Oh, good,” she said. “Just put my things in the wardrobe, please.”

“Aye, my lady.” The pages followed right behind the squire as they all made their way to the wardrobe.

“Nay, put the girl’s clothes in the garderobe,” instructed Lord Marcus. The pages turned around and started dragging the trunks back toward the door.

Amethyst didn’t like the idea of hanging her clothes in the privy, as while it was a common custom as the stench kept the moths from eating the wool, she preferred to have her clothes smelling like roses, not dung.

“Nay, my clothes will go in the wardrobe, and squire, you can bring the earl’s clothes to the garderobe instead.”

The pages stopped and turned back with the trunks, and the squire once again headed tow
ard the door. The clothes in Peter’s arms were stacked so high, he couldn’t see where he was going and tripped on one of Amethyst’s trunks, dropping the clothes in his hands, spilling everything on the floor. His body landed atop it.

Amethyst couldn’t help herself. She bu
rst out laughing, and before she knew it, the squire started laughing and then the pages joined in too. Everyone was laughing except for Marcus who just glared at her with a scowl on his face from across the room.

She held out her
hand and helped the squire to his feet. He stood up and brushed himself off.

“Answer me,
squire, and pages, since when do you take orders from a woman?” Marcus strolled over toward them.

“I thought she was your woman, my lord and I … I didn’t know, … I’m sorry, my lord.
” Peter bent down to pick up Marcus’s clothes, with the pages eagerly helping him. “I’ll take these right away to –” He stopped and stood and looked at Marcus, a garment dangling from his fingers. “I am confused as to where to take these clothes now, Lord Montclair. Will you be staying in this chamber with Lady Amethyst then or not?”

“What?” Amethyst blurted out
, shocked by those words. How could the squire even think she’d consider staying in the same room – the same bed as this lusty border lord?

“Aye, we’ve already shared a bed, so why not?” Marcus’s eyes were fastened to
her and she looked away quickly. She felt the heat of a blush staining her cheeks from his insinuation, and she hoped the boys didn’t notice.

“I did not share a bed with you, my lord … not the way you mean it.” When she dared to look up again, this time Marcus was the only one smiling.

“My father will be staying in my solar during his visit, and I will be using this one instead,” the earl explained. “Since the other chambers in the castle are far from finished, I cannot allow you to stay there, as it wouldn’t be proper, my lady.”

“And neither would me staying alone in this chamber with you, either,” she said in a low voice, her eyes darting over to the servants. The pages didn’t seem to be listening, and Peter just stood there and grinned.

“That’s right,” said Marcus, walking to her side and placing his hand on her shoulder. “Besides, I don’t particularly want to be alone with you anyway.”

That took her by surprise. Especially since it was a
n outright lie. Of course, since she had decided to knee him in the groin, mayhap he had changed his mind about her after all. And while the thought relieved her, it also disturbed her, as she’d seen his want for her just moments ago. And she had to admit to herself, she rather enjoyed the kiss. Still, she didn’t enjoy being mauled by a man with a hardened groin who only wanted to rut like an animal to relieve himself.

“Then where are you suggesting I stay while I am working for you, my lord?”
she asked.

“Hah! I’m not sure working is what I’d call it, but
you will be staying in the wardrobe during your … visit.”

“The wardrobe
?” This surprised her more than anything. “There’s no bed in there, nor will I stay there. Only servants sleep there, and I am a lady.”

“You will
do as I order, unless you want to sleep in the great hall or share one of the huts of wattle and daub in the village, but I’d suggest neither. There are many men around here, and with very few women, I cannot vouch for your safety.”

“Oh, yes. I am sure I’ll be m
uch safer in here … with you,” she said, hoping he caught her double meaning.

“Peter,
have a pallet brought up to the wardrobe for Lady Blackpool anon.”

“
Aye, my lord. Shall I put another in there as well for me?” asked the squire eagerly.

“Nay. Your pallet will go
at the foot of my bed. But do put another in the wardrobe for Lady Blackpool’s uncle, as I will not have anyone accusing me of stalking her while she sleeps.”

“Aye, my lord, right away.” The squire went to g
ive directions to the pages.

Marcus leaned over and spoke in a low tone. “Too bad, Lady Blackpool, as I think you would have rather enjoyed me.”

Amethyst felt her body stiffen as he purposely rubbed against her, subtly reminding her that parts of him were still stiff as well.

“Yes, too bad, my lord. Because now
I guess you’ll just have to enjoy it yourself,” she said in a low voice as well. “And I assure you, I always say what I mean, so you may want to think about that meaning.” She pulled away from him before he could react, and scurried out the door.

Chapter 4

Amethyst could barely concentrate on eating, as Lord Marcus had insisted she sit next to him at the dais during the main meal. On his other side was Sir Gawain, and next to him, the chaplain. Next to her was an empty chair, which didn’t even allow her to talk to anyone but him.

She had hoped her uncle would be sitting next to her, but he was sitting with the workers in the lower part of the hall as he went over plans and prepared for the meeting later in the solar.

As was custom, two people shared a cup and trencher, and of course that meant that she had to share with Lord Marcus. He was busy in conversation with his knight, and tended to keep the trencher of food and also the cup directly in front of him. So, in order to get anything to eat, she had to reach over him and try to snag a piece of food before he devoured everything.

While the man was in
excellent shape and not at all overweight, she was shocked by how much food he consumed. And since Lord Marcus liked the best of everything, they weren’t eating beans and brown bread, but rather stuffed pheasant, rabbit cooked in almond milk with a ginger sauce, and venison ribs with black pepper, sage and wine. And for dessert, she was surprised to see the servants bring out a sweet seed cake shaped like a knight’s shield, filled with exotic spices such as anise, cardamom and coriander. She’d tasted these foods before, being the daughter of an earl, but her father normally only had such expensive treats on special occasions and holidays. She wondered if this was an every day occurrence for Lord Marcus.

He was leaning over talking, and she took the opportunity to snake her hand along th
e table and once again try to grab a piece of food. But he suddenly leaned back and rested his arm atop the table, trapping her hand underneath. His head turned slowly, and his eyes trailed up her arm and to her face.

“I’ll let you know when I’m done eating,” he told her. “And then, you can have the rest.”

She pulled her hand back quickly, her anger rising by his comment. She was normally a very positive person who didn’t get aggravated easily, but this man was bringing out a side of her that she didn’t even know existed.

“You’ve had the trencher as well as the cup the entire meal,” she pointed out. “And what happened to the knightly gestures of letting a lady have the first cut of meat?”

“I’ve never heard that before. ’Tis always the lord of the castle who gets the first and best cut of meat. I am the lord of this castle, and that’s why I ate first.” He picked up the goblet of wine and quaffed it down.

Amethyst knew he was right,
but being one of four siblings - all girls - her father always gave them first choice of the food back home. Even when her mother was still alive, her father made certain she had what she needed, as well as the children before he ever thought to take food to his own mouth.

“I am the daughter of an earl, not one of your meaningles
s trollops,” she spat.

“Really. Well,
I
am
an earl,” he rallied, “so what’s your point?”

“My point is that you have no respect for women, and I am willing to bet you make your own mother sit below the salt when she comes to visit.”

His face turned to stone at that comment and his eyes darkened. “My mother is dead, so she won’t be visiting any time soon. So don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, feeling suddenly insensitive. “I had no idea.
Why didn’t you tell me this earlier when I told you my mother had passed on?”

“
What does it matter?” She noticed a muscle twitch in his clenched jaw. She obviously struck a nerve with this conversation, and she realized she would have to find out more about the earl’s past. “Take the trencher,” he said, pushing it toward her. “I’m done with it anyway.” He finished off the last of the wine in the cup and banged it down on the table. “Cupbearer, refill the wine for my Master Assistant. I want her fed and well in her cups before she comes to the meeting.” He pushed back his chair and stood, towering over her. “After all, I’ll be counting on you for a little entertainment later, as I’m sure you’ll serve no other purpose at the meeting other than to be a distraction to my men.”

With that, he stormed away across the hall. Amethyst took the cup from the cupbearer and raised it to her lips. That’s when she saw Sir G
awain staring at her from his seat at the table. He got to his feet, bringing his own trencher over to her that had twice the amount of food on it than the one Lord Marcus left her.

“He can be a real boor sometimes, my lady, but don’t tell him I said that or he’ll have my head.”

“Thank you, Sir Gawain,” she said, taking the food he offered. “I have no idea why he’s so angry. All I did was mention his mother and it seemed to set him off.”

“Take advice from someone who learned the hard way, my lady. Don’t mention his mother. Ever. That is, unless you want to see a grown man turn into some kind of beast.”

“I don’t understand. What happened to make him act this way?”

“Sir Gawain, join me as we’re heading for the meeting in the solar,” came Marcus’s growl from across the room.

“Of course, my lord, I will be right there,” he answered.

“And step away from my Master Ass
istant, and let her eat.”

Sir Gawain’s eyes traveled back down to Amethyst.
“He also doesn’t like anyone looking at or even talking to his woman,” he said, winking at her. “He’s very possessive, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m not his woman,”
she spat. Then she wondered if the earl really considered her his woman. She didn’t think so. After all, he treated her terribly.

“Master Assistant, are you going to sit here eating all night, or are you going to join us in the solar at the meeting?” Marcus was standing in front of them at the dais, and just as Sir Gawain said, he seemed jealous indeed that
another man was showing her some interest. He reached out and grabbed the trencher from in front of her just as she was going to take her first bite, and threw it to the rushes on the floor. Two of his hounds rushed over and eagerly devoured it.

“What are you doing?” she gasped. “I’ve yet to eat a bite.”

“The scraps are given to my hounds. Besides, the meal is over. Now, since you are working for me, I demand you stop making eyes at Sir Gawain and follow us to the solar for the meeting at once.” He headed away quickly and Sir Gawain followed.

“I’m
not making eyes at anyone, and remember I’m working for free,” she muttered under her breath, but he was already halfway across the room and didn’t hear her.

“Amethyst, what happened?” Her uncle rushed up to her wit
h a concerned look upon his face. The castle plans were rolled up and tucked under his arm. The master carpenter and several workers followed Lord Marcus out of the great hall, and Clement glanced nervously from her to the entourage leaving the room and then back again.

“Oh, nothing I can’t handle,” she told him, pushing up from the table, feeling the emptiness of her stomach, and
just eyeing the hounds finishing off the last of her meal. “But you were right when you said Lord Marcus will treat his hounds better than me.”

Her uncle looked down to the dogs, suddenly understanding what just happened. He motioned for a kitchen servant with a tray in her hand to join them, and when she did, he took a hunk of brown bread as well as an apple from the tray and handed it to her.

“Here, eat this as we walk,” he told her, “but we need to hurry. Lord Montclair doesn’t take kindly to anyone showing up late for his meetings.”

“I’m sure there is nothing that man takes kindly to,” she said, taking a bite of the bread and hurrying out the door after her uncle.

Marcus paced back and forth in his solar, as everyone was present for the meeting except for his master mason and the man’s niece. And he didn’t tolerate anyone being late. He knew he’d been a bit harsh with Amethyst, but he couldn’t help it. After she made that comment about him probably making his mother sit below the salt, he’d gone crazy.

He wondered how she knew that he ha
d actually done that, years ago. It was the worse night of his life. He told himself it didn’t matter anymore, but he knew that it really did, as because of his actions, his mother was now dead. That was years ago, and when he was much younger. It was a time that he wanted to forget, but yet it haunted him still. That was the day that changed his life forever. It was also the day that he turned into a cold-hearted bastard, just like his father.

“I apologize for the delay, my lord,” said Clement, hurrying into the room, with Amethyst right behind him. She was holding something, but he couldn’t see from across the room just what it was.

“You know I don’t tolerate anyone being late,” he reminded him, then looked over to Amethyst. “I knew the girl was going to be a distraction. Now bring your plans up here and tell me … have you found a better way to fortify the castle or not?”

“I have.” He stopped and looked over to Amethyst. “I mean … we have, my lord.”

“We? Master Mason, I find it admirable that you are valiantly trying to include your niece, but I assure you it isn’t necessary. I will find something suitable for her to do on the morrow. There are baskets to weave and wheelbarrows to clean. Now bring the plans up here and let’s see what you’ve come up with.”

He motion
ed for everyone to come forward as he took the parchment from Clement and unrolled it atop the table. His workers were gathered around as he looked at it, but from behind him he could hear the obnoxious sound of crunching that was rattling his nerves as well as his brain. He turned his head slowly, already knowing it was the girl causing the distraction, once again, just as he’d predicted.

He could see her out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting on a chair with her legs outstretched, biting into an apple.

“Master Assistant, I told you the meal is over,” he ground out.

“Lord Montclair, please, if I may explain the plans,” interrupted Clement, obviously trying to divert his anger from the girl.

“Nay, Master Mason,” he said, standing and turning toward her and crossing his arms over his chest. She continued chewing, then bit into the apple once again. “I think since you said it was both your idea, than we should include the girl in this as well.”

“My name is Lady Amethyst,” she said
while chewing. She was still lounging back, and took another big bite of the apple. Her chewing stilled, and she suddenly swallowed, then looked up, realizing the room was silent and every man there was staring at her. “What?” she asked.

“We are all waiting for you to explain the new plans in modifying the castle,” he told her. Her eyes opened wide, and he almost laughed. She’d make some excuse now to leave the room and
he’d finally be rid of her and her distractions. He knew she had no idea of what he was even talking about, nor would she be able to act like she did. He sincerely doubted that she knew the difference between a merlon and a melon. Perhaps he’d send her to the kitchen to work on the morrow, and then at least she’d know what one of them was, anyway.

“Oh, you want
me to explain.” She sat up taller in the chair, looking at all the faces staring back at her. “Really?”

“We’re waiting, Lady Blackpool,” he answered
, reaching down and drumming his fingers atop the table. “Did you want to come look at the plans perhaps, or would that be too foreign to you?” He splayed out his arm toward the parchment in invitation, and when he did it, chuckles went up from the other men around him. All but her uncle.

“Please, my lord, if you’ll just let me explain,” interrupted Clement.

“No, Uncle,” said Amethyst. “Allow me, please.”

“Did you want me to point out the top and bottom of the castle on the plans for you, my lady?” ask
ed Marcus with a chuckle.

“No need,” she said, getting up a
nd placing her apple core atop a trunk pushed against the wall. “I don’t even need the plans, but I’ll use them for your sake, my lord, in case you have trouble visualizing what I’m about to say.” She then rubbed her hands together and headed for the table. She stopped right in front of him. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, and he stepped out of her way, knowing this was going to be entertaining.

“Lady Blackpool, you are only wasting our time, now I advise you to go wait in the corridor while we finish our meeting, as you won’t be able to understand a word we say.”

“You asked me to explain, now do me the courtesy of giving me the chance.”

“Aye, let her talk,” called out one of the men.

“This should be fun,” said another.

“Be my guest,” he said, holding out his hand toward
the plans once again. And then to his surprise, she leaned over and started to point things out on the parchment.

“
Our defenses are strong here, atop the battlements with many high and sturdy merlons and crenellations to protect our men during a possible attack.”

So, she did know what a merlon was after all, he thought. Probably just a lucky guess.

“And the way my uncle designed the advanced arrow loops here … and here,” she said, pointing out the spots on the parchment, “the thick wedge in the wall enables our archers to remain covered and protected, yet able to shoot in two directions without changing their position.”