Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass (18 page)

“Our messenger,” he shouted.
“Returning from Highwood House.”

Kenneth moved for the gates as
the massive wooden panels were slowly cranked open to the sound of grating iron
chains. The portcullis was down and that, too, was laboriously raised. The
rider, bearing the scarlet, green and gold of Wrexham, spurred his lathered
horse into the bailey.

Kenneth knew the messenger; he
had seen many years of loyal service. The man was clearly exhausted as he
yanked the steed to a halt and practically fell from the saddle. Kenneth
reached out to steady the excited horse.

“What is so important that has
you arriving home in the middle of the night?” he asked. “Surely, not all the
local inns were full?”

The man rocked unsteadily with
fatigue. His uniform was dirty, his face lined with sweat even in the night
air. “Nay, my lord,” he replied. “I could not stop to rest. I bear important
news.”

“What is it?”

The rider took a moment to catch
his breath. “I bear bad tidings, my lord. Highwood House is gone.”

“What do you mean gone?”

“Destroyed by fire.”

Kenneth’s brow furrowed. “What in
the hell happened?”

“I am not entirely sure, my lord.
What few witnesses there were seemed afraid to speak.  I could not locate any
of the house servants at all. It seems that everyone has scattered.”

An ominous sense of dread filled
Kenneth. “What of Lady Graciela di Witney?”

“There were two corpses in the
ruins, my lord. The villains told me that Lady Graciela was one of them.”

By this time, Reid had joined
Kenneth. The two knights looked at each other as the news sank in. This was
unexpected, to say the least. Kenneth finally turned away, his expression
tight.  Reid had never seen Kenneth in any mode other than one of complete
control and it was disconcerting to see him react to something as ordinary as
death.

“Are you sure it was Lady
Graciela?” Reid pressed the messenger.  “Did you see the body?”

The man shook his head. “One of
the groomsmen told me it was her, my lord. I would not recognize Lady Graciela
on sight, but the man showed me the hand of one of the corpses. It was
unburned. Upon it was this.”

He pulled out a pouch from his
vest and removed a small ring. It was an uncut emerald, oval shaped, surrounded
by diamonds. He handed it to Reid, who in turn, handed it to Kenneth. Kenneth
stared at it until Reid spoke.

“I am sure the daughter can
confirm if this belonged to her mother,” he suggested quietly.

Kenneth sighed heavily, closing
his fist around the ring. But the messenger wasn’t finished with his report.

“There is more, my lords,” he
said. “Some of the peasants told me that before the fire, there were several
strange men at Highwood House.”

More intrigue peppered the pot.
“Did anyone know of their purpose?” Kenneth asked.

“As I said, most I spoke with
were afraid to speak of much more,” the messenger replied. “But the groomsman
seemed to think they were looking for something. Out of fear, he hid in the
barn but overheard them speaking of a scroll.”

For some reason, the word rang in
Kenneth’s head. A scroll.  Something told him that whatever the strange men’s
purpose, Aubrielle might have some connection to it. Only she would have knowledge
or possession of such a thing. Wasn’t Aubrielle the type to have a scroll
laying about, something she had collected from St. Wenburgh? It wasn’t out of
the realm of possibility. But what fiend would kill innocent people for
something as simple as a piece of vellum? Unless, of course, it was a valuable
piece. Perhaps one that contained important information….

He didn’t like the thought in the
least. The mere idea was enough to set him on edge.

“Did the villains say that the
men burned down the house and killed Lady Graciela?” he asked.

The messenger shrugged. “That was
the inference, my lord.”

Kenneth had heard enough. He
turned towards the keep. Reid sent the messenger to the kitchens for some food
and caught up to Kenneth.

“Do you want me to do this?” he
asked.

They mounted the wooden steps to
the keep. “Nay,” Kenneth said quietly. “I shall do it.”

“Are you well, Ken?”

“I am.”

“Then I shall accompany you. 
From what we know of the Lady Aubrielle, she is likely to fly into a rage and
put your eye out. You’ll need protection.”

Kenneth came to an abrupt halt, a
harsh retort on his lips. It was a great effort to refrain and realize that all
the knights knew of Lady Aubrielle was a poker to Everett’s head and a
head-butt to Kenneth’s lip.  They knew nothing of the soft, sweet creature he
had come to know of the past few days.

“That is not necessary,” he said.
“I shall be fine.”

“You are sure?”

“Aye.”

Reid let him go, being astute
enough to realize that his superior officer wanted to go it alone. There was
something occurring between Kenneth and Lady Aubrielle, far more than St. Héver
was willing to let on. This was more than duty.  He’d heard about the incident
in the great hall the day before, how St. Héver had swept her off her feet and
carried her away. The entire castle had heard of it. Kenneth St. Héver was the
last man anyone of them would have imagined to show any measure of kindness for
another human being, and particularly a woman.  It had to be lust and nothing
more.

Little did Reid know that lust
had less to do with it than he could have imagined. Kenneth wished it was only
lust; it would have been easier to satisfy. He carried the ring up to Aubrielle’s
bower, pausing at the door long enough to dismiss the sentry.  He stood there a
moment in the dark, wondering if he should let her sleep and wait until morning
to inform her of her mother’s passing.  But it would only be delaying the
inevitable.

He opened her door silently. The
room was dark except for the glow of the embers in the hearth. The little dog,
lying on the bed, suddenly leapt up and ran to him, teeth barred and growling.
Kenneth whispered something to the dog and it immediately settled.  Then he
patted the dog on the head, grateful for the vicious little sentry.

In her sleep, Aubrielle stirred.
Kenneth went to stand beside the bed, gazing down at her beautiful face softly
illuminated by the firelight.  He was deeply sorry that he had left her
earlier, afraid to say what was in his heart, confused that a woman so
beautiful and wise should have feelings for him.  After two days, how could
they possibly know what they felt for one another? Kenneth only knew that he
did feel, as surely as God had put him upon this earth.

He put a big hand on her
forehead, stroking her hair. “Aubrielle,” he murmured. “Wake up.”

She stirred again but did not
awaken. Kenneth leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on her slumbering lips. She
tasted so good that he gave her another. With the third lingering kiss, she
grew lucid enough to put her arms around his neck. She responded to him
hungrily and Kenneth lost all sense of control.

His tongue plunged into her mouth
and his arms went about her fiercely. He lifted her out of the bed and at the
same time fell into it. Somehow, Aubrielle ended up on top of him and he held
her tightly, one arm around her while the other hand snaked into her hair.  He
kissed her hard and furiously, his mouth moving all over her face, tasting
every inch of her. When he moved to her neck, she gasped, and he rolled her
onto her back. His heavy body half-covered her, half-smothered her into the
mattress, but Aubrielle did not seem to care.

“Kenneth, my love,” she murmured
feverishly. “I thought you had left me forever. I thought you would never
return.”

He was kissing her collarbone,
his fingers pulling back the top of her nightshift to allow him more skin to
feast upon.

“Never,” he growled. “I will
never leave you, Aubrielle, for as long as I live. I swear it.”

“I am sorry if I upset you.”

“You did not upset me. You have
made me the happiest man in the world.”

In the darkness, she smiled
sleepily, feeling his weight and warmth upon her.  His fingers had unlaced her
shift and had pulled it down to her waist. Her breasts, smooth and round and
soft, were exposed. Kenneth’s hot mouth moved down her chest and between the
luscious swells before taking in a peaked nipple.  Aubrielle gasped with the
newness of it.  He held her fast while his mouth worked its magic.

Aubrielle had never known the
touch of a man. From loose-lipped servants, she had heard tales of sexual
exploits, and from her mother she had been told of a wife’s duty. But none of
those tales did justice to what Kenneth was doing to her.  As he suckled and
touched, she felt gentle fingers flutter across her Venus mound.  He stroked
her carefully, acquainting her with his touch. She was nervous at first, but
Kenneth’s gentle attentions quickly eased her.

His mouth left her breasts and
moved to her stomach.  It had been so long since Kenneth had tasted a woman
that his control was very fragile.  He didn’t want to frighten her, nor did he
want to do anything they would both regret later, but the fact remained that he
wanted her in the worst way. He tried to walk the fine line between propriety
and his rights as her intended.

He lifted himself up, his lips on
her neck.  In the confines of his leather breeches, his engorged manhood
strained to be released.  He removed his hand from Aubrielle’s warm, wet folds
and unlaced his breeches. Soon the garment was down around his thighs and he
brushed his swollen, demanding erection against her Venus mound.

He did not penetrate her. He was
very careful not to. But he rubbed himself against her the core of her
womanhood, acquainting her with the feel of his heat. Taking her hand, he
placed her small palm against his member so that she would know the quality of
his flesh. Aubrielle felt his warmth and instinctively clamped around him. It
was far too delicious a sensation and his hot seed erupted onto the mat of her
soft, dark curls.

His enjoyment was overwhelming,
but through the warm haze, he wanted her to know the same pleasures. It was
only fair. Taking his sticky fingers, he gently fondled the throbbing little
nub between her legs and a great fire burst forth in Aubrielle’s loins that
quickly exploded into a shower of stars. When the delicious waves subsided, she
opened her eyes to find Kenneth smiling down at her.

“Did you enjoy that?” he asked
huskily.

She was glowing. “What did you do
to me?”

He kissed her, his nose nuzzling
her cheek. “It is a pleasure that all women should feel but seldom do.”

She thought a moment. Educated
though she might be, she was fairly naïve. “A woman’s pleasure?”

“Aye.”

It took her a moment to
understand what he meant. Then she was genuinely surprised. “Is
that
what it was?”

He laughed softly. “Aye”

“You, too?”

“Absolutely.”

She glanced down, looking at
their bodies in various states of undress.

“Kenneth?”

“Aye?”

“Why… why did you not take your
pleasure inside me, as a husband would?”

He wondered if he could
adequately explain himself.  “Do you know what you are saying?”

“If you do not want to, I will
not force you.”

He growled, low in his throat,
running his hands up her torso and stretching her arms above her head. His
great body lay atop her, his spent manhood rubbing against her pink folds.

“I want to more than you can
possibly imagine,” he whispered. “The more I taste of you, the more I want. 
But I do not want you to regret it.”

“What do you mean?”

“We have but known each other a
matter of days. We’ve only been betrothed a matter of hours. You may decide
next week that our betrothal was the greatest mistake of your life and I do not
want to take from you, in haste, that which is your most precious attribute.” 
When he could see that his remark had upset her, he kissed her to quiet the protests.
“I simply do not want to rush into anything, to accomplish this most intimate
act in haste. What I did tonight, perhaps I should not have. But it was my
intention to acquaint you with what was to come between us. You and I have the
rest of our lives to become familiar with one another; I do not want lust to
dictate our actions so hastily because the process of this discovery is new and
exciting.”

She gazed up at him,
understanding that the man had a far more level head than she did. She felt
ashamed. “You are right, of course. I did not mean to sound so shameless or
brazen. ‘Tis simply that… this feels so right, Kenneth. Do you not sense this
also?”

“More than you know.”

He was caught up in the
tenderness of the moment. But the underlying darkness of his reason for his
visit was becoming an increasingly persistent jab. He knew it was something he
could no longer ignore and he hated to break the marvelous spell between them.