Montague - The Warlord Part 18

"Shhh."

Kenric grimaced and leaned back in his chair, the new'

one delivered just this morn by the carpenter. The wobbly tables were gone already, exchanged for a score of st.u.r.dy tables discovered in storage. Another piece of Helen's work, no doubt. Yet she'd volunteered their location and that of matching tablecloths without prompting. Kenric smiled with satisfaction. Tess was getting to Helen, just as Tess got to everyone.

"That was a delightful poem," Tess exclaimed, clapping her hands enthusiastically when Thomas wound down at last. Kenric suspected she was more delighted to hear it end. "Don't you think so, husband?"

"Aye, most delightful," Kenric agreed wryly. "Now off to bed with you, lad. 'Tis a long day you will be putting in on the morrow."

Tess waited until Thomas left the hall before addressing Kenric, a frown creasing her brow. "Do you intend to punish the boy with extra work tomorrow, just because his epics tend to be a bit windy?"

"I would not dream of such a thing," Kenric claimed innocently. "But perhaps some hard work will leave my squire too exhausted to dream up these torturous poems."

Helen's soft laughter drifted across the hall and his attention was drawn again to the couple playing chess. Nearly a week had pa.s.sed since Fitz Alan started his courts.h.i.+p, and the two had barely been apart since then. If he didn't know better, Kenric would swear that Fitz Alan was truly snared by Helen's charms. Helen appeared just as smitten. Both stared at each other like lovestruck fools.

"He is going to bed her beneath my nose," he muttered, glaring at Fitz Alan.

"Pardon me?" Tess asked, following the direction of Kenric's scowl.

Kenric watched Helen contemplate her next move while Fie Alan contemplated his sister. He spoke to Tess without taking his eyes off his friend. "Go tell Fitz Alan that I wish to speak with him. You will stay with Helen."

Tess left to do his bidding and he frowned at her back, already angry with Fitz Alan for denying him his wife's company.

"How fared the poetry?" Fitz Alan asked when he joined Kenric. He poured a mug of ale and settled on a nearby stool.

"Thomas has no ear for poetry and well you know it," Kenric replied, irritated with Fitz Alan for escaping the "entertainment" by entertaining Helen. "You seem to have found one diversion or another to excuse yourself from most of the evening amus.e.m.e.nts of late."

"Aye, 'tis true. Your sister has amazed me with her quick mastery of the chess game. I fear she may beat me one day soon," Fitz Alan admitted with a smile, his eyes on Helen. "I have found her just as talented with music. Quite an amazing woman, really."

"Amazingly devious," Kenric snorted.

Fitz Alan's expression turned sheepish. "She asks often if I know your plans for Montague, and mentions Guy's name more frequent of late."

" 'Tis the only reason for her sudden infatuation. You were right to suspect as much."

Fitz Alan smiled and inclined his head. "She truly thinks to gull me to the point that I will use my influence to gain a position for Guy. Yesterday I finally promised to broach the subject with you."

"She plays you well."

"Aye, that she does. She has been the sweetest, most biddable of maids. I am having great fun with her game."

"Best you keep in mind that it is only a game," Kenric warned. "One I will not see played too far. I intend to find a husband for Helen when we go to court and the task will be no easier if she is fat with your b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

Fitz Alan nearly dropped his mug. His head pivoted stiffly as he turned to stare at Kenric.

"I've seen the way you look at her," Kenric went on. "And I have not forgotten what a smooth tongue you have with women. As I see it, 'tis only a matter of time before you have her talked into your bed."

Fitz Alan flushed guiltily and stared down at his mug, unable to meet Kenric's steady gaze. "I had not intended it to go that far."

"But it will," Kenric stated without question.

Fitz Alan sighed. "She is much different than I thought. More tempting than I imagined."

"You see what she wants you to see. She is using you, man!"

"Aye," Fitz Alan said glumly. "But I think she is coming to care for me as well."

"You cannot be serious! Once she learns my true plans for Montague, she will treat you as a leper."

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps?" Kenric's expression turned grim. " 'Tis time to bring this farce to an end. Helen's plot is no different than we thought and no purpose is served to keep her ignorant of our knowledge. Her punishment will be marriage to a man of my choosing. 'Tis my belief that she will realize it is in her best interest to remain biddable, in hopes of improving my choice. I'll give you an hour to tell her this game is at an end, then I intend to inform her of her punishment."

Fitz Alan listened quietly to Kenric's decision, his expression thoughtful. Several silent moments pa.s.sed before he responded.

"You allowed me to court your sister with no other purpose than to discover her plottings and make sure they were not harmful. This I have done. But I have grown fond of the lady, despite her scheming, and have no wish to see her wed another. I do humbly ask your permission for your sister's hand in marriage, milord."

Kenric stared at Fitz Alan as if he'd suddenly turned into a troll. He finally found his voice but it was a bare, disbelieving whisper.

"You have lost your mind."

"You may be right," Fitz Alan agreed with a humorless smile. "My heart is gone already, though I know not how. I knew that little witch's game from the start, yet I have still managed to fall under her spell. I have few illusions that her feelings are the same, but in time I believe I could gain her affections."

"You are actually serious!" Kenric shook his head in disbelief. "More likely, you will gain her dagger in your gullet some eve as you sleep."

"I thought to wait a few weeks before asking your permission," Fitz Alan continued, ignoring Kenric's comment. "But your decision forces me to hasten my offer. Though you know me to be landless, the riches I acquired in our campaigns are ample to support a wife in any style she desires. Your sister will surely object, but she cannot deny your right to name her husband. If you wish to punish Helen for her scheming, I ask that you do so by naming me as that husband. She is sure to be miserable as many months in our marriage as she would be dreading marriage to another."

"She would make you miserable as well. h.e.l.l, Fitz Alan, she would make you twice as miserable. Are you so smitten that you would punish yourself?"

"Aye," Fitz Alan murmured solemnly, without a trace of his usual humor. Kenric had never seen such a serious expression on Fitz Alan. "But I would not make the offer if I believed she could not come to tolerate me as a husband. If you accept my suit, I have no intentions of telling her of my affections until they can be returned. I would have her believe the marriage is simply a punishment for her scheming, that perhaps I agreed to the marriage simply to gain her dowry. I think she'll find that believable, as she has no means of knowing the true extent of my wealth."

"You've put some thought into this," Kenric mused. "What happened to the man who agreed that bedding a wench was the best way to get her out of his system? If that is what it takes for you to reconsider this insane notion, I would actually consider turning a blind eye to the matter."

"Nay," Fitz Alan said. "Since your marriage I have thought often of a wife and family, and have decided that I want children at my hearth before I am too old to enjoy them. I would want that their mother be Helen."

"Good G.o.d, Fitz Alan. You've grown poetic." Kenric found himself smiling over Fitz Alan's lovestruck words. He was also greatly rea.s.sured that he'd not made a fool of himself with his musings about Tess earlier in their marriage. The example of true foolishness over a woman sat before him.

Fitz Alan shrugged. "You will consider my offer?"

"You have no doubts about this?" Kenric shot back.

"Plenty." Fitz Alan grinned, the sparkle of good humor returning to his eye. "But none I fear, or cannot put to rest."

Kenric mulled over the implications of Fitz Alan's request. He'd be seeing his sister far more often than he'd like in the years to come. He sighed and spread his hands in defeat. "Consider yourself betrothed."

Fitz Alan acted as if he'd just been handed a great treasure. Kenric wondered if his friend would still thank him a year from now. The two men spent the next hour working out the details, each agreeing to let Helen believe herself caught in her own game. When Kenric finally called the women forward, he motioned for Tess to take the seat Fitz Alan occupied, and Fitz Alan rose to take his place at Helen's side.

"I've just had a most interesting discussion with Fitz Alan," Kenric began, addressing Helen. "He believes you would have me consider Guy as lord of Montague, when my position at Remmington is secure. He also believes that to be the only reason you have encouraged his attentions these past days."

"Nay, 'tis not true," Helen protested. "I have become quite fond of Sir Roger, and do enjoy his company."

"You are certain of that?"

"Aye, most certain, milord."

Kenric remained silent for a moment, as if weighing Helen's words. "Then I see no reason you should question my decision to see you wed to Roger Fitz Alan."

"What?" Helen shouted. Her trapped gaze flew from Kenric to Fitz Alan, then back to Kenric. "You cannot do this, milord. Please, I beseech you."

"Beseech me with the truth," Kenric ordered, his voice booming across the hall. "Tell me the reasons you accepted his courts.h.i.+p so readily and I shall reconsider my agreement with Fitz Alan."

Tess's expression faded from surprised delight to a worried frown. She'd spent few evenings with Helen these past days, for Fitz Alan seemed to be with her constantly. But during the day, when they worked together at some task, Helen could speak of little but Roger Fitz Alan. If Helen had been acting, she'd been most convincing.

"All right," Helen said bitterly, every line of her scowl echoing her resentment. "I encouraged him only to put the idea of Guy as your va.s.sal at Montague into his head and see that he encouraged you in the matter. When that was done, I meant to break off the courts.h.i.+p gently." She turned to glare at Fitz Alan, not looking very contrite. "I am sorry I misled you, Roger, but I felt my reasons justified."

"I was not misled at all," Fitz Alan informed her, grinning cheerfully. "I guessed your game right enough from the very start."

"Why... why, you black-hearted miscreant! You've been laughing at me all this time?"

Fitz Alan's nod set off a steady stream of curses, the likes of which Tess had never heard from a lady's mouth. Many she'd not heard at all.

"Enough!" The bellowed word gained the silence Kenric wanted and he nodded to Fitz Alan. "It seems you were right after all, Fitz Alan. I do double her dowry, as we agreed."

"You wagered on me?" Helen screeched, turning on Fitz Alan. She looked ready to claw his eyes out. But a look of dawning horror soon covered her face and she paled noticeably. "You still intend to marry me?"

Kenric answered the question for her.

"And glad you should be, sister. You are in need of a husband to guide you. My tolerance of your meddling has reached its limits. I'd intended to find you a husband among my acquaintances at court, but our wager and the size of your dowry finally convinced Fitz Alan to take you off my hands himself. You will have many long years to show him your grat.i.tude, for the men I thought of as candidates would be far less to your liking."

Helen swayed slightly, opened her mouth to protest, but fainted instead, caught effortlessly in Fitz Alan's arms.

"I believe my bride is overcome with happiness," he declared with a chuckle. "If you wilt excuse us, milord, Lady Tess, I will take her someplace more comfortable to contemplate our nuptials."

Kenric started laughing before Fitz Alan even left the hall. G.o.d's truth, he had to sit down and wipe the tears from his face, he found the scene so funny.

"Ah, I have not laughed that hard in years," Kenric gasped. "Did you see the look on Helen's face? She was as pasty as a flour bag." Turning to his wife, his smile faded. "You are not laughing."

"I cannot believe I was taken in so completely by Helen's mooning," Tess sputtered. "I truly thought she was falling in love with the man."

"People are not always what you think they are," he said quietly, his expression growing serious. Gazing into the depths of his smoky eyes, Tess knew he was no longer talking about Helen. "Sometimes you must look beneath the surface to discover a person's true character."

He'd been showing her what was beneath the surface for nearly a fortnight, Tess realized, struck by the sudden insight. He probably wasn't even aware that he'd shown her the man beneath the mantle of a fierce warlord. She liked what she saw, liked it so much that it terrified her. She had been so concerned with controlling her reactions to what she saw on the surface, that she didn't take time to guard against what went much deeper. Her eyes widened over the knowledge. Kenric didn't find her disgusting. He hadn't lost the least bit of interest. He was waiting for her to tell him that she felt the same.

"I have looked beneath the surface, milord."

Kenric's hand rested on the table and she reached out to stroke her fingertips across the dark skin. He didn't move. His gaze dropped to their hands, his expression never changing as she shyly withdrew her hand.

"Touch me again," he whispered hoa.r.s.ely.

Tess hesitated. She knew what he was asking, knew it went far beyond a simple touch. Her hand moved of its own accord, coming to rest on his. As if he were afraid of startling her, his other hand reached out to cover hers, holding her. His eyes were closed, an expression on his face she'd never seen before.

He finally turned her hand over and pressed a lingering kiss in the palm, never letting go of her hand as he stood up and led her from the hall. He remained silent until they reached their chamber. After closing the door behind them, he leaned against the heavy oak panels and finally released her. His gaze began at her slippers and traveled slowly upward, lingering on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, even longer on her mouth.

"Show me," he said simply, waiting for her to come to him.

Tess took one step, then another, then she rested her hands lightly on his shoulders and leaned up on her tiptoes to press a kiss against the cleft of his chin. His hands moved up to his chest, covering hers, as if he treasured the feel of them against his body. Then he caught her in his arms, drawing her up against the length of his body as his lips descended to hers. It was a slow, drugging kiss, urgent yet patient at the same time. He kissed her mouth, the curve of her cheek, her temples, then back to her mouth again for a full taste of her. His hands moved carefully, loosening her braid to let her hair spill over her shoulders.

"Spun gold," he murmured against her lips, sifting the golden strands through his fingers. One hand cupped her cheek, stroking the smooth contours, trailing lightly down the pale column of her throat then moving beneath her chin, holding her to receive his next kiss. He used his lips to trace the outline of hers, touching rather than kissing, finally covering her mouth to take what she offered.

His arms slipped beneath her legs and he lifted her into his arms, never breaking the kiss as he carried her to the bed. Tess thought he meant to lay her down but he turned at the last moment and sat on the edge, cradling her in his lap. He used his mouth then to show her what it meant to be tormented, thrusting deep with his tongue then slowly withdrawing, giving then taking away, teasing, tantalizing, stroking her again and again, drawing her into his mouth to let her taste his power then dominating once more. His arms tightened around her, holding her completely, one hand beneath her head to keep their lips firmly joined.

One of his legs slipped out from under her, moving slowly over her legs to trap them between his, pulling her closer until her thigh was pressed firmly against his hard arousal. Tremors shook Tess's body and her groan was matched by his, joining in the soft song of love. Vaguely aware that her arms were twined around his neck, her hands fisted tightly in his hair, she reluctantly loosened her grip to slide the flats of her palms over the corded strength of his neck, cupping his face between her hands. The sandy roughness of his cheeks, the way he moved beneath her hands while pleasuring her mouth engulfed her in waves of dizziness. She was falling, deeper and deeper, but Kenric was holding her, protecting her from the fall, making sure there was no end to her tumbling emotions, no end to the sheer delight and exhilarating terror. Tess finally pushed against him, the feeble, gentle pressure the only effort she could summon up to save herself.

His kiss became less erotic, drawing away from her until their lips were just joined and he could look into her eyes. He deepened the kiss once more when he saw their color, unable to resist the lure. Drawing back again, he reluctantly parted from her when he saw a dim light of panic in the amethyst depths.

"What is wrong, sweet?" he murmured, pressing tiny kisses against her dewy lips. Until now, Kenric had had no idea that making love to a woman's mouth could be every bit as pleasurable as making love to her body. He was anxious to enrich his knowledge. "Tell me, and I will make it better."

"I... I think I'm going to faint," she whispered weakly.

Kenric smiled, tracing the outline of her lips with the tip of his tongue. She shuddered against him. He lowered his head and whispered seductively in her ear, his mouth exploring that part of her just as thoroughly. "Should you swoon, I will hold you safe and pleasure you with caresses until you arouse to me once more."

Her eyes fluttered closed.

"Tess?" he asked hesitantly, thinking she might be playing out his teasing. She didn't respond. Kenric leaned back to take a better look. Her body was completely relaxed against his, her breathing deep and steady. He shook her gently. Nothing. Good G.o.d, she'd actually fainted.

Kenric smiled hugely, suddenly feeling like the most powerful man on earth. The wait had been worth every single second. He trailed the backs of his fingers against one powder-soft cheek then used his fingertip to trace every line of her face. He hadn't even made love to her yet, but he knew he'd already won the battle. Tess accepted him, knowing what he was, knowing he could never change the circ.u.mstances of his birth. Her surrender was sweet beyond bearing, arousing feelings he'd never guessed were lying dormant. He'd never dreamed that this test of willpower would have such remarkable results. Tess began to stir in his arms and he smoothed her hair away from her face.

"Welcome back," he murmured softly, watching her eyes drift open. Deep purple, laden with pa.s.sion. His body responded unconsciously to the knowledge that she was still aroused.

Tess lifted one limp hand to her forehead. "I don't know what happened."

"I do," he answered, his smile growing broader. "Though I'll admit, I thought it an exaggeration until now." He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead. "You have proven it truth, Tess; a woman can indeed be overcome completely by her pa.s.sions."

"I... I'm sorry," she apologized, blus.h.i.+ng as she struggled to sit up in his lap.

"I'm not." He loosened his grip and allowed her to rise, brus.h.i.+ng her hair over her shoulders as he bragged of his prowess. "I know of none other who can claim such skill. This must surely make me the most potent of lovers."

Tess smiled over his arrogance, even as her heart grew heavy. Kenric might have won their silent war, but he didn't know yet what it cost. This would be the last time she allowed herself to turn traitor, but tonight she would turn traitor completely. She deserved that much for what she would be forced to sacrifice tomorrow. A wave of sorrow swept over her, and self-pity, too. It seemed her whole life had been filled with sacrifices, all for the sake of the cold-stone towers that were her home. Her parents had died for Remmington. Tess had kept herself alive at Langston Keep for the sake of Remmington. She'd even considered marrying Gordon MacLeith, knowing her child would eventually inherit. Now Remmington would force her to forsake her husband.

"There's no need to cry over a simple exaggeration," he admonished, frowning at the tears that spilled silently from his wife's eyes. He brushed them away with his thumbs. "Was it so hard to come to me?"

"Nay," she answered, trying to smile through her tears. Her plan was still the best. Truly, she told herself, even as she buried her face against Kenric's shoulder to cry in earnest. "I'm sorry!"

"I thought you knew I was waiting for a sign from you," he said hesitantly, trying to guess the source of her tears. The weeks of separation had certainly been trying. He supposed Tess could be moved to tears by what he simply found frustrating. "Didn't you know?"

She shook her head, using the sleeve of her gown to wipe away the tears as she lifted her head. "I thought you didn't want me anymore. I thought you'd taken a mistress."

Kenric mentally kicked himself for not being more obvious. "You needed time to become more accustomed to the notion."