After the Storm (30 page)

There were cheers of approval and lewd calls from the other tables. She concentrated on the noise around her rather than on Rolf. She heard a distant crash of crockery from the rear of the hall. There was a loud scrape of heavy wood, a roar of possessive anger and the anxious voices of several women. It sounded as though the nuns were holding their own private riot, but Libby didn't have time to pay attention to what the good sisters were doing. She had a horny bear to contend with.

Rolf grabbed her by the shoulders and held her out to look her over. "Let's go to bed."

Her lips were bruised from his mauling kiss. She managed to pull them into some sort of smile anyway. "So soon, my lord?" She made it sound like she was coyly teasing. Inwardly, she was very close to panicking. She glanced anxiously at Lady Cicely. "So soon?" The Lady of Blackchurch gave her a smile and a nod.

Cicely rose and touched Rolf's sleeve. "I'm having my chamber prepared for your nuptial night."

Rolf's thick brows furrowed. "Nuptials?"

Cicely gave him a sweet smile. "A betrothal is as good as a wedding, is it not?

What need you of a priest when both are willing?" she added. "Let us make a celebration of it, my lord. Was that not what you wanted when you came here?"

Sizemore, Susan - After the Storm

"Aye. I wanted your priest."

"Send for the priest tomorrow." She pointed at Libby. "Your bride is bathed and scented and anxious for you to come to her."

"I can tell."

Libby fluttered her eyelashes and tried to look lustful. The sound of Rolf's crude laughter echoed loudly around the watching room.

There was another crash from the nuns' table. Libby gave a quick glance that way, and got the impression that there was a pile of penguins holding the big one down. Whatever was going on with the good sisters wasn't something she could deal with just now. She had to get back to Sebastian, and that meant concentrating on Rolf and Cicely to do it.

She took Rolf's hand. "I will await your coming, my lord," she whispered to him.

"Naked. In the curtained dark."

"My bed I offer you for this first night together," Cicely hurried to tell him while his eyes glazed over at Libby's words. Come," she said to Libby, "let us retire while your lord drinks toasts to your night together." She gestured her steward forward to pour Rolf a fresh cup of mead. "Drink deep," she told her guest.

"Drink deep and often to strengthen you for the night ahead." He gave her a nod, then downed the cup. The steward filled it the moment he was done.

Libby cupped his cheek. "I'll send for you soon, my love." Then she hurried to follow Cicely back up the stairs.

There was no tower in this keep. The living quarters at Blackchurch consisted of the hall on the first floor where most activities took place. The main floor was where soldiers and servants slept after the trestle tables were cleared away. The bower bedroom on the second floor was connected to the staircase by a long gallery that overlooked the hall. There were several curtained sleeping alcoves Sizemore, Susan - After the Storm

along the gallery, occupied at night by guests and Lady Cicely's women. Lady Cicely had planned to turn over one of the alcoves to Libby and Rolf, but Libby had persuaded her to accept a different plan while they bathed. Now it was time to set that plan in motion.

Libby followed Cicely into the bower and they began the preparations for the night. The large bed was hung with heavy curtains. Eventually all was ready, the heavy bedcurtains were drawn, enveloping the woman lying on the mattress in thick darkness. Only one candle still glowed in the room. A servant went to fetch Rolf. Libby pulled the veil she wore across her face and blended into the shadows.

Rolf was already waiting outside the door. He staggered into the bower, and the servant led him forward. Libby didn't watch him strip off his clothing and climb into Cicely's bed, where Cicely eagerly waited. She couldn't help but hear the other women joking and congratulating him, and his lewd replies.
There but for
the grace of a lonely widow, go I
, she thought, and was very grateful for Lady Cicely's help.

Once the bedcurtains were drawn Libby took a large stack of linens from a serving woman. She held them before her as she made her way out the door, just one of a group of anonymous women. From the sounds already coming from the bed Rolf wasn't going to notice anyone leaving.

She didn't breath until she'd concealed herself in one of the alcoves along the gallery. She was supposed to wait here until everyone in the hall was sleeping before sneaking out into the night. Libby sat down with her back to the wall, and waited nervously for time to pass.

She hoped Cicely got what she wanted from Rolf. She hoped Rolf accepted what Cicely had to offer. It seemed like she'd been playing matchmaker a lot lately, which was very odd considering how weird her own marriage had turned out to Sizemore, Susan - After the Storm

be. Actually, she and Sebastian had had a lovely wedding, in the restored church at Lilydrake. Only the wedding had been over eight hundred years in the future.

"Bas remembers the wedding," she whispered as she listened to the noise from the hall growing quieter and quieter.

Knowing he remembered at least that much, muddled though the memory was, was both pleasant and painful to her. For she feared he would never remember that she was the one he'd grieved so deeply for. She was almost afraid that he'd reject her even if he did remember, that his having held desperately on to those few shreds of memory would prove to be too painful for him.

Maybe he'd want to start his life over when he returned to the future. But would it be with her? And would it matter, as long as she got him back safe and alive?

His well-being was what was important right now.

It would matter. It would kill her if he stopped loving her.

She still wasn't going to think about it right now.

What she was going to concern herself with was the fact that someone was sneaking up the stairs. The intruder moved very cautiously, but the old wooden stairs creaked. She wondered if anyone else heard, or was concerned. She barely heard him move, but she knew the man was there by the faint sound of cloth rubbing against cloth. Was it one of Rolf's men? Had one of the serving women turned her in?

As she got slowly to her feet, her hand went to the dagger she'd gotten from Bas.

If the man that now moved very quietly along the gallery was coming for her, she wasn't about to go without a fight.

She heard him stop nearby, in front of the bedroom door. She held her breath and waited. Then, curiosity got the better of her and she parted the alcove curtain just enough to see the gallery. It was faintly lit by dying rushlights in the hall below.

Sizemore, Susan - After the Storm

What she saw in the dim light was a tall figure dressed head to foot in heavy black, a pilgrim's staff in one hand.

Though she could have sworn she'd made no sound, the black-robed figure swung around to face her. She jumped back, but was grabbed in a hard grip before she could hide herself. The dagger was knocked out of her hand. It hit the wall with a metallic clatter. She was pushed back into the alcove. Air left her lungs in a painful whoosh as her back hit hard against the wall.

"God, Bas," she said on a gasp as she looked up into the man's angry face, "you make one ugly nun."

Sizemore, Susan - After the Storm

Chapter 16

"
You're getting rescued
whether you want it or not," Bastien whispered to the wide-eyed woman. He leaned heavily against her, trapping her against the wall.

Her body was as soft and yielding next to his as it had looked as she clung to Rolf of Gesthowe. He felt like a fool, and not just because he was wearing the garb of a holy sister. "You let the man paw you. In public. If the sisters hadn't convinced me to wait, I would have killed you both in the hall."

"You're jealous."

He didn't know why she sounded so pleased about it. "I'm jealous."

Her teeth showed in a fierce smile. "Good."

A moment later he was kissing her, all his anger translated into reckless need. By the time he lifted his lips from hers they were both panting. His anger was spent, translated into longing he had no time to satisfy. She leaned her head back against the wall and ran her tongue slowly over her lips, as though she had just tasted something very sweet. He brushed his fingers across her lips, then slowly traced the line of her jaw. There was a languorous look on her face, but her shoulders shook with silent laughter. He thought he should understand the joke, but didn't quite yet.

He put his lips close to her ear and whispered, "What?" She didn't have to answer, because he suddenly recalled what he was wearing. "And you were just kissed by an ugly nun at that," he agreed with her unspoken estimation. "But it is Sizemore, Susan - After the Storm

a good disguise."

"A wolf among the penguins," she agreed. "How did you—?"

"I'll explain later." He stepped back and quickly took off the wimple and the black robe he'd worn over his clothes. Once he'd discarded the disguise he held his hand out to her. "Hurry." Only when they were ready to step out onto the gallery did the obvious question occur to him. "Why aren't you in bed with Rolf?"

"I declined the honor," she replied.

He gave her a curious look, but the bedroom door was thrown open before he could say anymore. Rolf stood in the doorway. Naked. Holding a sword. Neither was a pretty sight. Rolf's eyes widened at the sight of Isabeau. He raised the blade menacingly, pointing it at her. Bastien quickly stepped between them. He couldn't remember his objections to learning to use a sword as Rolf snarled and stepped forward.

Bastien hit him in the groin with his quarterstaff. When the man doubled over in pain, Bas punched the end of the pole hard into Rolf's side. His jaw, his spine.

There wasn't much room for him to swing or spin the weapon in the narrow gallery, but he did the best he could. Though his arm protested he put all the strength he could into each blow. Isabeau stood well back and gave him room to work. The damage he did brought grunts from Rolf, but fortunately the man didn't cry out. No soldiers came charging up the stairs to their lord's aid.

Eventually Rolf dropped the sword and followed it down, falling heavily to the floor.

A woman appeared in the doorway as he went down. She wore only a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She dropped to her knees beside Rolf. Her face shone as a frightened, pale oval in the faint light.

Sizemore, Susan - After the Storm

Isabeau stepped forward. "Cicely?"

"Go," the woman said as she gathered the unconscious Rolf into her arms. "I'll keep him in my care, but you must go."

"We're not arguing the point," Isabeau told the woman. She snatched up the fallen dagger, then took Bastien's hand.

"What about the guards?" Bastien asked. He looked past the gallery rail to the hall below. No one stirred. Behind them, people peered out from behind alcove curtains. No one moved or made a sound.

Isabeau squeezed his fingers. "It's safe for us to go. Cicely wants Rolf. She's on our side."