Vengeance 02 - Trust In Me (14 page)

“Then why are you speaking to him, my lady?” The priest’s perplexed expression was almost comical.

“To make him realize how many of us await his return. Perhaps he can hear what we say.”

Father Michael’s face lit with fascination as he mulled over her idea. “Really? That is a brilliant suggestion.”

Nicholas scoffed. “Brilliant?”

“For certain.” The priest’s smile overtook his face.

Mary picked up the bowl beside the bed. “I’ll go get some more of the tea, my lady.”

“Thank you. I’ll wait here with William. Get something to eat before you return.”

Nicholas crossed his arms and glared at the young priest.

It didn’t take long for his glare to make Father Michael uncomfortable. “Well, I best be on my way. Lots to do this day. Many souls to save.” He chuckled at his own joke.

Nicholas did not.

“It was nice to meet you, Father. I look forward to seeing you again soon,” Elizabeth said, anxious to get the priest on his way before Nicholas said something that might hurt the young man’s feelings.

Father Michael paused before Elizabeth, his blue eyes intent on her. “You are a breath of fresh air, my lady. A true angel. You’re exactly what this holding needs.”

Elizabeth felt her face heat again at the priest’s warm words. None of this would’ve bothered her if Nicholas hadn’t been watching. “You’re very kind, Father. Good day to you.”

He slowly released her hand, as though reluctant to break the contact. His gaze held hers until he exited the chamber.

“The man acts like a love sick pup.”

Elizabeth didn’t bother to look at Nicholas but moved to William’s side. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” She tidied the bedding, then brushed William’s brown hair across his forehead as Walter had shown her.

“Another conquest for you. That was quick work,” he said in a biting tone.

She nearly snorted in answer, but chose sarcasm instead. Anything to cover the hurt. “Aye, it happens often. You stepped on the backs of many upon your arrival at Amberley, I’m certain.”

He frowned at her answer, but she turned away, unwilling to let him see how much his words hurt. There had never been any suitors. No one had declared themselves the least bit interested in her. Her father hadn’t pressed her to marry nor had she requested he arrange a marriage for her. They’d discussed it several times, but it had never seemed the right time. Added to that was the fact that she hadn’t met a man who’d caught her attention. At least not until she’d met Nicholas. How ironic that she yearned for a man who held her in such poor esteem.

“Elizabeth,” he started, his deep voice soft.

She let him get no further. He’d said nothing kind to her since he’d discovered her connection to his brother, and she didn’t expect him to now. “I’d like to speak to you about the position of steward. Do you have someone in mind?”

He gave her a long look out of those blue, blue eyes, until she thought she could bear it no more. How could she breathe when he looked at her with such intensity? How could she not melt into a puddle at his feet? When would she forget his heated kisses that had turned her world upside down?

“Nay.”

What had been her question? Oh, right. She tried to pull her thoughts together. “I wondered if Walter could help.”

He looked puzzled by her suggestion. “Walter?”

“He seems to be one of the few here whom you trust, and he knows everyone. I don’t suppose he can read.”

“Nay.”

“Perhaps the two of us can manage the work together for a time. I can help with the household accounts. Would you ask him if he would do it? Until you find someone permanent.” She bit the inside of her lip to prevent herself from prattling on.

Nicholas stepped closer to her. Too close. She breathed in to keep herself steady, but all she could smell was him, that fresh scent of the woods he carried.

She focused on something other than his handsome face and ended up staring at his shoulder. The solid mass of it beckoned her touch, so broad and strong covered by the dark blue of his tunic. She could still see those shoulders bare when he’d sat up after awakening from his nightmare. She tugged her gaze away only to realize she now stared at the pulse in his neck which beat in a steady rhythm that stirred her curiosity. Would it beat so strongly under her finger? She fisted her hand to keep it at her side, then closed her eyes, knowing she’d be unable to fight the temptation much longer for desire curled deep within her.

What was wrong with her?

“Elizabeth?”

Trembling, she opened her eyes to look up at him, hiding her yearning as best she could.

His expression was unreadable but his eyes – they seemed to burn with a heat that echoed her own. Could it be true? Did he desire her touch as much as she desired his?

He reached out a hand toward her face and her breath caught, hoping against hope that he’d hold her as he had before. Heat from his hand burned her cheek. With a gasp, she leaned toward it and closed her eyes.

Only to feel...nothing.

She opened her eyes and saw that he now stood an arm’s length away from her, his hands at his sides, his expression cool and reserved – nothing like what she’d imagined.

She stood gawking at him, mortified at her behavior. How could she have so misinterpreted his gesture?

“I’ll speak with Walter when I next see him.” He turned toward his brother. “I’m sure you have other duties. I’ll sit with William.”

A cavernous hollow of disappointment and regret engulfed her. How was she to survive? She had to find some way to put her longing for Nicholas aside. Pursuing it would only bring her more hurt. He obviously didn’t feel the same way as she.

“Thank you, my lord.” She glanced at him, but his attention was fixed on his brother, so she did the only thing she could.

She left them together, wishing she could as easily leave behind her feelings for her husband.

*

Nicholas held completely still until Elizabeth exited the chamber, then dropped onto the chair beside William with a thud, his breath releasing in a whoosh. What in hell was wrong with him? His desire for his wife was worsening.

He’d nearly touched her again.

That could never happen, for once he touched her, he’d have to hold her.

If he held her, he’d have to kiss her.

If he kissed her...

He leaned back in the chair with a groan as the thought of her in his bed filled his mind. Those long limbs would wind around him. That long, brown hair would fan beneath her. His desire flared, hot and bright.

He needed to find a way to release the tension that had built inside him since he’d met her. There was a maid or two who’d be pleased to warm his bed. The idea of that worked as well as a bucket of cold water thrown over him.

Abstinence wasn’t the problem.

The problem was Elizabeth.

Not for the first time, he wondered if he should just send her back to her father. Nay. His pride refused to let him. He would not admit his mistake in tying her to him, nor would he admit the power she held over him. If she ever realized the extent of his desire for her, his plans to make her and her father pay would be over.

He rubbed his hands over his face, then looked at William. Would all her efforts to help him succeed? Lord, he hoped so. He had to respect her for trying. She was kind, generous, and determined – qualities he admired. For a brief moment, he wished they’d met under normal circumstances, with neither his curse nor her involvement with William between them.

But wishes like that held no purpose, only making him long for things that could not be.

“William, you’re not going to believe what’s occurred over the past few days.” He cleared his throat. “Talking to you when you’re not awake isn’t easy. I can think of nothing to say and it makes me feel like an idiot.” What he really wished he could talk to William about was Elizabeth. But he couldn’t bring himself to say anything about his wife aloud. Should she overhear him...the consequences didn’t bear thinking about.

He studied his brother’s face, wondering if his color had improved or if it was just a trick of the light. “There is one thing you could answer for me, little brother. After all that tea, don’t you have to piss?”

*

The messenger stood before Lord Gerard Perry in the great hall, one leg trembling noticeably.

“You have news from Amberley?” Gerard asked as he eased back into his chair with great care.

“Aye, my lord.” The man took a deep breath to speak, but then hesitated, clamping his lips shut.

“Well? Spit it out!” Gerard demanded.

“Of course, my lord. Beg your pardon, but it seems as though...” The messenger looked around at the others who stood in the great hall as if he hoped they’d deliver the news for him.

Gerard leaned forward, anger spearing through him. “Speak now or I’ll beat it out of you.”

The messenger blanched and stepped back, eyes wide.

“Easy, my lord,” said Matthew Alred, one of Gerard’s household knights and a friend as well. “Remember the setback you had when you last lost your temper.”

Gerard took a deep breath to try to calm himself. Even that hurt. Matthew was right. His temper had got the best of him two days past when the stupidity of a maidservant had forced him to punish her. He shifted his sore shoulder, wondering if the damned jousting wound would ever heal.

As his temper abated, he stared at the messenger. There was no reason for anger. What could the man possibly have to report? All was going according to plan. His injury would soon be well enough to allow him to ride to Amberley. He smiled at the thought.

“May I, my lord?” Matthew cocked a brow at Gerard.

Gerard waved the knight toward the messenger. “Indeed.” With another slow, deep breath, he reached for the tankard of ale before him and quenched his thirst.

Matthew stepped forward. “Deliver your news or you’ll forfeit the payment you seek.” With a casual air, he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. “And perhaps your life.”

“I fear – that is to say – something unexpected has occurred.” The messenger licked his lips before he continued. “Lady Elizabeth has married.”

Ale spewed out of Gerard’s mouth. He slammed the tankard down. “What did you say?”

“Lady Elizabeth. She’s married. It was all rather... unexpected.” The man’s voice quivered as his gaze darted between Matthew and Gerard.

“To whom?” Gerard enunciated the words, certain the man knew not of what he spoke.

“Now that is a fair question. Some say his name is Lord Bradley Trisbane, but others say he’s Lord Nicholas de Bremont.”

Gerard stared, stunned at the messenger’s words.
How could this be?
William’s brother? What twist of fate was this?

Matthew drew nearer. “This is bad news, my lord?”

“Of the worst sort,” Gerard confirmed, still unable to believe what he’d heard.

“Does it change our plans?” Matthew asked.

Gerard rubbed a finger along his lower lip, contemplating his options. “Nay.” He had not come this far to lose it all. Especially not Elizabeth. He needed to find out more about Nicholas de Bremont. “Nay, it does not.”

Matthew leaned forward and spoke in a quiet voice. “Do you want the messenger to pay for this foul news?”

Gerard picked up the simple tankard before him and eyed it thoughtfully. Soon a fine goblet would grace his table in its place. All Amberley held, including its tableware, would be his. “Let us send him back to Amberley. He may come across more information for us.”

“As you wish, my lord.” Matthew sounded almost disappointed.

Gerard passed the empty tankard to his left hand. Then he tossed the mug into the air and caught it, ignoring the discomfort the move caused. He glanced to make sure the messenger watched. After seeing that he held his complete attention, he threw the tankard with all his might at the bastard’s head.

The man ducked too late. The cup struck him in the temple – hard by the sound of his sharp cry of pain.

“Damn you to hell! If you ever come here with that sort of information after it’s already happened, I’ll carve out your eyes! Do you hear me?”

Gerard leaned back in his chair again, the pain in his shoulder already making him regret his outburst.

Damn Elizabeth as well. She would pay for this, and she would pay dearly, although not as dearly as her soon-to-be late husband.

Chapter Fourteen

Elizabeth drew a deep breath to steady her nerves and calm her pounding heart. She hesitated, one hand hovering at the latch of the chamber door, the other clutching a candle. She’d procrastinated about retiring for the night as long as she could, but her exhaustion had at last forced her to seek her bed.

Or rather, their bed.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed open the door and paused to scan the dimly lit room. The tension in her shoulders eased when she realized the chamber stood empty once again.

She shook her head. Each time she entered, she worried that Nicholas might be present or that he would soon join her, and she’d be forced to be alone with him. Living in this awkward state had become very frustrating.

As quickly as possible, she prepared for the night, changing into her chemise and sliding under the covers at a speed with which she hadn’t realized she was capable. She breathed a sigh of relief at being under the covers before Nicholas entered the chamber.

If he ever did.

The man had managed to be absent from their bed since their arrival at Staverton two nights past. Not that she wasn’t grateful, she admitted as she settled against the pillow. Indeed, the thought of spending the night lying next to him was more than she could bear. How could she possibly endure that sort of tension for an entire night? But that didn’t keep her from worrying if this would be the evening he finally appeared.

The chamber had changed a little since her arrival. Her things had arrived from Amberley, so now a wool rug of deep blue graced the floor, another table sat against the wall, and her large chest was at the foot of the bed. Yet still it didn’t feel as if she belonged in this room.

Margaret had sent a note along with her things. Elizabeth had read it countless times. Though she was grateful for word from home, she found it only made her miss everyone more. Her father was about the same and asked about her frequently. They all hoped she’d be able to come for a visit soon. She doubted that would be possible anytime in the near future.

With a sigh, she blew out the candle, and the chamber filled with darkness. Still he didn’t come. After tossing and turning for a time, Elizabeth gave up and relit the candle on the narrow table beside the bed. Though tired, she couldn’t seem to settle in to sleep. She placed the blame for that squarely on Nicholas. Each sound had her straining to listen closer, her heart pounding at the thought that it might be him.

Her instincts told her that her husband was less than pleased with the sleeping arrangements. Yet what could she do? Short of telling the servants their marriage was in name only, she couldn’t change the situation. She could hardly move into another chamber without giving a reason. Nicholas was the one who should’ve explained their marriage to the servants upon their arrival.

Frustrated with the circumstances, she punched the suddenly uncomfortable feather pillow at her back.

“Is the pillow misbehaving?” Nicholas’s voice echoed from where he stood just inside the chamber door, startling her. He held a candle aloft as he closed the door behind him.

She glared at him. She couldn’t help it. “Aye.”

He raised a brow at her terse response before setting the candle on a nearby table.

Elizabeth held onto her anger – anything was better than the nervousness that awaited her if she thought overmuch about his sudden appearance.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” he asked. He moved to the fire and added some wood to the low burning flames.

“Is that why you felt it safe to come to bed?” She threw off the covers and stood, anger pushing her to her feet.

His eyes narrowed at her response before he sat on her trunk at the foot of the bed to remove his boots. “I came in here to
sleep
.”

Heat filled her face at the emphasis he placed on the last word. She curled her bare toes under her thin gown when his gaze seemed to linger there. “So ’tis truly your intent to have a marriage in name only?” The question escaped her lips before she’d had a chance to think twice. Yet she was glad she’d asked. She felt as though she were walking on egg shells, as though she did not truly have a place in this keep.

Or with her husband.

He rose, pulled off his tunic and hung it on a peg near the door before turning to face her. “I was very clear on what our marriage would be when we struck our bargain.”

Any possible response fled Elizabeth’s mind as she stared at her husband’s chiseled body. Though she’d seen a hint of it when he’d woken from his nightmare, she could now appreciate it in full. Broad shoulders thick with muscle tapered to where his chausses sat low on his narrow hips. His chest was well defined, smooth and bronzed. His stomach rippled with muscle. Scars, some short, others long and deep, marred his flesh. Rather than detract from his appearance, they added to it. His clothing obviously didn’t do him justice.

Her face felt hot, and her heart pounded as she stared. At last, she pulled her gaze away from his form, wishing fleetingly that he’d chosen to keep on his tunic. She clenched her hands into fists, grasping at the thread of their conversation. “Sleeping separately for the rest of our lives seems impractical.” Suddenly courageous, she stepped toward him. “Nicholas, I think we could be friends of a sort. There are many things here that will require us to work together, including helping William.”

Nicholas snorted. “While that may be true, it doesn’t require that we consummate our marriage. I work with others here as well and have never been the least tempted to sleep with them. Take Walter for example.”

“Please.” His sarcasm thoroughly annoyed her. “That is hardly the same thing and you well know it.”

He strode toward her, his broad shoulders blocking the firelight as he towered over her. “Understand this and understand it well.” He bent forward until his face was before her, his cold, blue eyes boring into hers. “We will never be friends or lovers. You are here for one purpose only. For you and your father to pay for the injustice you served on my brother.”

Though she longed to flee the chamber and escape the force of his anger, she held her ground. “We
are
paying. Justice has been served. I’m doing everything in my power to help William and you.”

“’Tis not enough.”

Something flashed in his eyes before he dropped her gaze, making her wonder if he truly believed his words. Hope made her press on. “There is nothing else I can do. I’ve apologized. I’m trying everything I can think of to aid William. Is that not enough? When will you be satisfied with the agreement we made?”

“If William recovers – ”

“Of course William will recover.” She swatted away his words with false bravado. “Then what? We continue with this arrangement? To whose benefit?”

“Certainly not yours,” he ground out.

“I am not asking to profit from this marriage. I am merely suggesting that we forge a truce of sorts. One we can both live with. One that will benefit the people of Staverton.”

“A truce?” The scorn in his face made her spin away from him in frustration. “We cannot have such a thing.”

She turned and marched back to where he stood to poke her finger into his bare chest. “We are married, sirrah. We have to find some middle ground.”

He grabbed her finger, wrapped her hand in his and held it tight against his hot, bare chest. “What is it that you want from me?”

She curled her fingers, surprised at the heat of his skin. Her gaze caught with his and was held by the anguish she saw there.

Her voice lowered, her anger gone. “I would be your wife, Nicholas.”

A range of emotions passed so quickly across his face that she couldn’t decipher them. She opened her mouth to explain, to try to convince him of the logic of her suggestion.

His gaze dropped to her lips, and he swooped in to capture her mouth with his.

She was unprepared for the assault. Her heart flew to her throat as he speared his tongue into her mouth. His lips moved skillfully against hers, causing her thoughts to scatter.

Only one word came to mind. More. She wanted more. Here was the passionate man she’d come to care for. He was the one who aroused her, who made her long for things she couldn’t have.

“You’ve no idea what you ask for,” he muttered as he skimmed his lips over her cheeks and brow.

“I only ask for you.”

“Then you ask too much.”

He crushed her to his hard length. Her arms were trapped between them, allowing her little access to the perfection of his form, the smoothness of his flesh. She struggled to free herself, eager to touch him.

Reluctantly, it seemed, he released her arms, then hissed when her chemise-clad body pressed against his bare chest.

Anxious to explore, Elizabeth ran her hands along his broad shoulders, in awe at the strength she found there, at the hard heat of him. She fit perfectly against him, her eyes in line with his chin as though they were meant for each other. She pressed her lips across his neck and up to his jaw.

“Christ, woman. You have no idea what you do.”

She halted, unsure if he meant that as an insult. “Then tell me. Show me.”

He backed her up until her legs were against the edge of the bed. His strong arms wrapped tight around her, making her feel like a precious object that he’d never let go. She felt wanted, desired, and the heady feeling spread warmth throughout her body. Her nipples were taut against the soft linen of her chemise, and when Nicholas reached up to cup her breast, she gasped. Heat built within her, and she shifted against him to assuage the sudden ache.

Nicholas nearly moaned when her body pressed against his. He clenched his jaw to keep his passion in check. Truly, she had no idea what she did to him with those graceful hands, those long fingers, her soft form moving within the circle of his arms. She was even more passionate than he could’ve guessed. Her response to his touch aroused him further.

Once again, her bare toes had disarmed him.

Her lips made their way across his neck, and he tipped his head back to give her better access.

He wanted her so badly he couldn’t stand it. The temptation to take what she offered overwhelmed him. He drew a deep breath to regain his sanity, but all he could smell was her sweet fragrance. Roses and sunshine.

This was madness. Pure madness.

He took her lips with his once again as he kneaded her breasts. The fabric of her chemise hid far too much. With one quick finger, he loosened the ribbon holding the neck and was rewarded when the garment fell off her shoulder. Another tug, and he could at last see the ripened fruit beneath.

Madness it might be, but he now welcomed the lunacy fogging his brain. Her rose-tipped breasts called for his touch, the softness of her skin at odds with his calloused fingers. The soft mounds overflowed his palms, generous in size as well as in the pleasure they gave him.

She sighed, her knees buckling as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

Unable to resist, he held her tight as he pressed kisses along her collarbone, then lower still.

He stopped for a moment and raised his head.

She gave a cry of protest and opened her eyes.

“You are so beautiful,” he told her, holding her gaze for moment before bending to flick his tongue across her hard nipple.

The moan that escaped her lips pleased him. What could he do but please himself more? He suckled her breast, using his hand to massage her softness as his tongue laved the rosy tip.

Her breath came rapidly. He moved to her other breast to give it the same attention.

“Oh!” she cried. “That feels...amazing.”

“Aye, that it does,” he agreed as he continued his thorough attention.

“I would do the same for you. I want to make you feel as I do.”

He hardened even more at her words, not trusting himself to answer her. He was nearly past the point of caring about anything other than making this woman his own.

Elizabeth reached out to caress his chest, pausing at his nipple to pinch and roll it with her clever fingers.

He groaned and grabbed her hand to pull it away from him, certain that if she continued, he’d finish this before he even removed his chausses.

“Thank you,” she murmured in his ear as she kissed his jaw line and wrapped her arms around his neck.

With a great effort, he focused on her words, trying to understand what she meant. “For what?”

“For allowing us to become husband and wife in truth.”

Her words had the same affect on him as a swim in the cold pond. What was he doing? He tried to clear his head, to push aside the passion burning within him. Though he wanted her desperately in this moment, what of the morrow? What of the next fortnight?

If he took her now, his body would be relieved, but what of his heart? What of justice for William?

Nay. Nay, this could not happen. Not now. Not ever. How could he have let his desire for her get this far?

He jerked back and grabbed her upper arms. He glared at her, unable to believe his stupidity. “Damn you. You nearly succeeded.”

Her brown eyes were clouded with passion, her expression puzzled. “Succeeded at what?”