Fire and Ice (19 page)

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Authors: J. E. Christer

BOOK: Fire and Ice
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The house quietened and he took the opportunity to look out of the back door in the enclosure.  The stallion had been stabled since the men left and de Gant thought he would make a fast
er getaway on horseback, putting as much space between him and them as he could before they found he was missing.  Sliding around the stable door de Gant fitted the bit into the horse’s mouth and fastened the reins.  He was looking around for a saddle when he heard a noise and decided that it was now or never so he leapt onto the horse’s back and kicked him into action.  Rider and horse burst through the stable door and almost trampled the stable lad, before disappearing into the distance.  He had ridden bare-back before and had the reins to hold onto and took the fence at the bottom of the enclosure with a huge leap, congratulating himself when he stayed seated.

He laughed when he thought of the uproar he was leaving behind in the stable yard and wondered what Ragn would say when he found his prize horse missing.

 

***

 

Giselle stood in line waiting to make her confession to Father Matthew.  She was still
restricted to wander only within the convent’s walls and grounds but had steadily gained some trust from the other sisters.  She completed her tasks satisfactorily and made no argument at whatever she was told to do.  Mother Superior was impressed by the turnaround in her behaviour and watched her now as Giselle held her rosary and seemed to be waiting patiently with her head bowed in pious prayer.

In reality, Giselle
was hoping to speak with Luke once this confession business was over.  What on earth could she confess while she was stuck in here day after day, month after month with no hope of escape?  She relied on her quick wits to make something up as she posed for the sake of the other nuns whilst standing in line.  She could see Luke out of the corner of her eye and he seemed to be mesmerised by her, she just hoped no one would notice that gleam in his eye and they could meet in the cloister after confession.  Eventually, it was her turn in the confessional and she duly received her penance for unholy thoughts when she was cleaning the kitchen.  It had not been a lie as she hated domestic work but had to do it in order to eat.  When she left the confessional she noticed Luke had gone and she made her way to the cloister where she strolled for a while so as not to attract any attention and then slipped into the shadows where they had first met.

“How are you, Father Luke?” she enqui
red, her lips deliberately curled at the corners to make her face more winsome.

“I’m very well, but don’t call me Father yet.  I’m still a novice.”

“Do you really want to join the priesthood and give up everything you could have with me?”

“I don’t know what I could have with you, my lady.  I grew up in a strict household and my mother insisted I went into the priesthood, so here I am.”

Giselle knew he was as innocent as he declared himself to be because she had tried to entice him to her cell but there was always an excuse. 

“Why don’t you let me show you?” she said and reached for his hand.  He let her warm hand take his and she put it to her face.  She knew the effect this was having on him as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply.  What on earth would he be like when her plan came together?   She moved his hand and kissed the tip of each finger letting her tongue touch each and every one. 

“My lady, I cannot continue to let you do this.  I forget everything when I am with you.  My body has a mind of its own and I don’t know what to do.  I can only think it must be unholy.”

Giselle was careful not to decry his faith but whispered, “Woman was made for man, Luke.  We were made for each other
, and you training for the priesthood is wrong in so many ways.  You were made for love,
my
love!” she declared vehemently.

He could stand it no longer and pulled her into his embrace, kissing her passionately, first on the lips and the
n he moved her cap aside and tasted her neck.

“Come with me,” she said urgently, pulling at his hand.

Just then the Mother Superior came outside with Father Matthew and started to walk around the cloister, deep in conversation.

“I have to go, my lady.  If they see us here they will keep us apart and I’ll never see you again.”  His words were desperate so she let him go, knowing that it was only a matter of time before he was hers.

Two weeks later her chance came.  She had had a fever which had kept her to her cell but she had almost recovered.  One of the other nuns came in to bring her a herbal concoction which when heated seemed to give some relief to her symptoms.  She tried to look tired and weary, sniffing and coughing to give the nun the impression she was still unwell.

“Father Matthew
has a malady today too and is sending someone else to take confession and give communion.  Shall I ask him to visit you here?  You are obviously still too ill to join us in the chapel.”

Giselle looked down trying not to show the gleam in her eye at the news.  “Yes,” she coughed slightly, “I’m
still too tired to get up.”

The other nun nodded briefly and left the cell, closing the door behind her.
  Giselle got out of bed and paced the floor making plans on how to get Luke into her room.  She hoped he would be worried about her if she did not attend chapel and would ask where she was.  She hoped he would be given permission to visit her.  She got back into bed, chilled by the stone floor.

By the time she heard sandaled feet shuffling down the corridor she was in a state of panic in case it was some other monk coming to see her, but she need not have worried.  The door opened slowly, too slowly she thought, but Luke was there standing in front of her.  He pulled his cowl back and his hair tumbled freely to his shoulders.  She realised that she actually had feelings for this man when her heart quickened.

She rose from the bed and took off her cap which had been hiding her hair.  It had grown back richer and thicker than before and he caught his breath when she moved towards him.  Slowly, she began to stroke his hair, his face and kissed him gently on the lips.  He was trembling before her and she liked the feeling of power she had over him.

“Come, Luke.  Sit down on the bed and I’ll secure the door.”  She led him to the bed and pushed his trembling body down gently to sit on the edge.  There were no locks on the doors of the cells but a
stout chair could be wedged under the iron ring which would prevent it from being turned and would give them some warning of trouble.

Giselle had planned this in her mind since she had last seen him and now put her scheming into action.  Her eyes shone as she approached him, watch
ing him gulp and his eyes widen as she let her habit fall to the floor.  She could hear his breath from three feet away.  She moved closer and he swallowed harder, nothing was hidden from his gaze.

“My lady, you’re beautiful,” he gasped.  “I’ve never seen a female body before
and yours is magnificent.  I had no idea.”

“You’re too handsome, to let your manhood go to waste
, my sweet.  I want you to know a woman before you give your life to the priesthood.  Come, let me help you undress.”

Luke stood like a statue whilst Giselle disrobed him and pushed him onto the bed.  He closed his eyes when she started to touch his body and Giselle knew she had him under her spell.  She put his hands on her
body and they moved of their own accord, burning a fiery trail as they went.  Their kisses were deep and passionate and only instinct told Luke what to do next.  His first attempt at lovemaking ended prematurely but Giselle had expected that and she lay panting beneath him, playing her game and her man.

“Oh, my love,” he breathed, “I had no idea such joy existed.  You have bewitched me.”

She smiled into his eyes.  “You haven’t even begun to learn yet, Luke.  Stay with me and I will teach you everything you need to know.”

“We must marry, my lady.  I love you more than I could have imagined.  I will tell Father Matthew that I’ve changed my mind about the priesthood.”

“Yes, we will marry, Luke.  But first we have to leave this place.  They won’t let me go unless Ulfric says so.  I wish Richard was here.”

“Then we must run away together, Giselle.  I’ll take you back to your homeland and we’ll live in peace together there.”

Giselle smiled again, “You are the dearest of men.  Yes, we’ll devise a plan but you must not tell Father Matthew anything yet.  Wait until everything is set fair.”

“Anything for you, Giselle, anything; now
, teach me some more of what I must learn before I have to leave you again.”

Giselle grinned wickedly, “Are you sure you have the stamina, Luke?  I can be very hard to please.”

“Show me,” he whispered, already drowning in a sea of desire.

Chapter 22

 


Ah, my love, I thought you were never coming,” Luke breathed deeply and held her hand to his lips.  They had contrived various meetings since Giselle’s illness and this was their latest.

“You must try to contain your impatience, my dear.  If anyone found us we would be horsewhipped and you would lose your position at the monastery.”

“I care not for those things any longer, Giselle.  You know that my heart is yours and we must find a way to leave here so that we can be together.”

Her plan had worked; she now had an ally who would risk his own future to be with her.  She smiled
temptingly at him and he dared a chaste kiss on her cheek.  “You must be careful though, Luke.  We must make plans to leave once the good weather is settled.  Have you thought of a plan yet?”

“I have thought of nothing else these past weeks.  I thought we might leave during the Easter
parades.  We will be going out among the townspeople so it should be easy to slip away.”

“But where will we go, my love?  And I will need clothes.  I cannot bear to be in these itchy rags for much longer.”

“You said your father is with the King.  We must find out where they are and I will deliver you to his care and throw myself on his mercy.”

“Yes, of course, my father will help us.  We
will do as we planned and return to Normandy and our lands there.”

“Will you promise to be my wife, Giselle?  I want to make you mine forever.”

Giselle’s face was still smiling into his eyes but her brain was feverishly trying to think of an excuse.  “I will marry you, my darling one, when my brother returns.  I could not possibly think of marrying until I have his consent as well as my father’s.”

“Then let us hope he returns soon.”

Luke pulled her close and kissed her passionately, which she returned with well-practised ease.  She could feel his heart thumping beneath his habit and felt a surge of triumph at her success in capturing this young man.  In a way she hoped Richard would not kill him when he came back, as she had never before had such a handsome lover.

 

***

 

At that moment Sir Richard was sitting forlornly in a duck pond, cursing his bad luck.  That stupid horse was useless.  Ragn had trained him to respond only to his voice and when the steed had had enough exercise, he had thrown the unsuspecting knight and trotted off back to his warm stable.  Sir Richard was now soaking wet and had no money on him to buy a night’s shelter anywhere or to exchange his clothing.  The only thing he could do in the daylight he had left was to remove his clothing and leave it on a bush to dry.  He squelched off into some nearby woodland and prepared to take off his clothes, but the sound of laughter reached his ears and he turned around to catch two young girls pointing at him in a fit of giggles.  He made a move towards them and they ran away squealing with laughter.  His temper was now reaching boiling point and he ran after the girls to see where they lived.  He would demand fresh clothes from their parents and threaten them with their lives unless they helped him.

The woods
ended in a clearing and an old boundary ditch.  The girls were disappearing around the corner of a single-storied long house and chickens pecked away at the new shoots peeking through the earth.  It was an idyllic scene and de Gant was brought to a swift halt, his fury evaporating in an instant.  His attention was caught by a young girl who looked about seventeen as she wandered in the garden reading from a small book.  Forgetting his appearance was likely to startle he stepped forward and made his way into the open.  He was closing in on the young woman when she suddenly noticed him and gasped, obviously shocked by his unkempt and wet attire. 

“Please, don’t run away,” de Gant begged, “I’ve fallen from my horse and he has run away.  My name is Sir Richard de Gant and I would appreciate your assistance.”

“You are Norman?” the girl asked.

“Yes, but I mean you no harm.  Please could you take me to your father or mother?”

The girl hesitated and looked around to see if anyone was watching.  “Come this way,” was all she said and moved away in the direction the younger girls had taken.

Instead of taking him into the house, the girl led him to an outbuilding which was warm from the earlier sun and
the floor was covered in sweet-smelling hay.

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