Impostress (12 page)

The girl at the fire snorted, the one grinding spices swallowed a smile at the unlikely image, and Kiera felt her face flame more brightly than the coals beneath the spit.

The cook continued to chatter as she worked the dough. "I'm just glad she gave the man a chance after failing to attend the celebration of their union last night, the wedding feast I prepared."

Kiera blushed as the cook looked her over. She realized that she had injured more than her new husband's pride by not showing up last night.

"I'll send Gladdys up in a while," the large woman promised. "Is there anything else I can do for ye?"

"Just see that Lady Elyn and her new husband are not disturbed. Gladdys can knock, then leave the tray at the door," Kiera emphasized.

"I'll see to it."

"Thank you."

As Kiera hurried toward the back stairs, she caught a glimpse of the cook mopping her brow with the back or her hand.

"Where in the name of the Holy Mother is Zelda?" Cook growled, sweat gleaming on her skin. "I swear keeping my eye on all of you girls will send me to an early grave."

Kiera stole up the stairs on silent footsteps. There was a chance Elyn was waiting for her, in her room. Though she had to admit, she had little faith she would find her sister patiently awaiting her return. At the third floor, she was about to slip into her own chamber when the door to Elyn's room creaked open. There, with one shoulder braced upon the doorframe, was Kelan.

Kiera nearly jumped out of her skin.

Without a shirt, his black hair rumpled, his breeches unlaced, he stared at her. "You were out riding?" he asked, bewildered. Rubbing the back of his neck, his arm bent over his head and stretching the hard muscles of his flat abdomen, he blinked as if trying to focus.

Kiera swallowed hard. In her mind's eye, she saw him as he had been the night before, naked and stretched upon her, his skin burnished from the light of a dying fire.

"Oh ... er, yes," she said. "I didn't want to wake you." She hurried toward him and, afraid someone would see them and recognize her, stood on tiptoe to plant a quick kiss on his lips. His gray eyes cleared a bit.

Smiling despite her anxiety, she laced her fingers through his and drew him back into the dark chamber. As if it was second nature, she replaced the latch. "I ... always ride in the morning." Playfully, she pulled him to the bed.

"You should have awakened me," he said, yawning. "I would have joined you."

"You were tired."

"That I was," he admitted, his dark eyebrows knitting thoughtfully. "Were you not?"

"A little. And I hated to rouse you. You snore, you know." She threw a flirty smile at him and was astounded at her own sassy tongue. She was teasing him, and she knew by the gleam in his silvery eyes that she'd goaded him into thoughts far from her early morning ride.

"Do I?"

"Oh, yes! 'Tis an awful sound ... like an old boar grunting hungrily in the trough."

One side of Kelan's mouth lifted. "And you know of old boars, do you?"

"Mmm. I have always been interested in the animals of the keep."

"And what else?" he asked as he wound his arms around her and stared deep into her eyes. Her blood turned hot and she worried again if Elyn was nearby, even hiding in the next chamber, waiting to take her rightful place.

"Many things. Mayhap I should change from these riding clothes?"

He toyed with the laces at her throat. "I'll help."

Oh, the seduction in his eyes.
Keep a clear head, Kiera. Think! Do not be distracted. You slept with him once, do not make that mistake again. Just keep him here without tumbling into bed with him!
"Nay, I, um, didn't want to disturb you, so I changed in Kiera's room next door. If you will but wait for me, I will return—"

"Oh, no, you don't," he said, his arms tightening over her waist. "You lured me back here, wife, and now you must pay the price." Holding her close with one arm, he lifted his hand to the opening of her tunic and ever so slowly unlaced the slit at her neck. Her throat turned to dust as she watched his fingers graze her skin, and deep inside, in that dark, moist, oh-so-feminine part of her, she began to ache with a now-familiar want.

God help me.

Her breasts were half exposed and he bent his head to run his tongue along her already warm flesh. She quivered.

"So you do want me, you little wench."

"Nay ..."

"Oh, I think so," he said, breathing hard. Kissing her, he reached lower, bunching her skirts as his fingers slipped upward, along her thigh, light touches teasing and tormenting. She began to wriggle and writhe, for the memories of the night before crashed through her brain, and Lord help her, she did want him, nay, yearned for the feel of him, all over again.

He backed her against the wall and she, gasping, felt the gentle prod of one finger and the bittersweet pain that lingered from the night before. She sagged a little, opening to him as he penetrated her with one, no ... two ... stretching ... She was breathing in gasps, her blood pounding in her ears as he manipulated her, touching, stroking. She moaned, her fingers in his hair, and suddenly he released her, pushed down his breeches, and, lifting her, placed her firmly upon his rock-hard shaft.

"Oh!" Her eyes flew open as he began to move. "Oohh ..." Her fingers dug into his bare shoulders, and her legs wrapped around him. The soreness eased with each of his strokes. Slowly at first, then more quickly, he moved within her. She gasped. Couldn't think. Could not catch a breath. His face buried in her breasts, his arms providing support, he took her, laid claim to what he thought was rightfully his, making love to his wife.

And Kiera couldn't, wouldn't, stop him.

The room tilted and swayed. Heat burned through her and she thought of nothing but that one vital, aching spot where they joined. She was gasping holding on to him for dear life, riding a rising tide of desire—

"Elyn," he whispered, and she froze. "Oh, Elyn ... wife ..." He stiffened, throwing back his head and letting out a raspy cry as the sweat upon her skin dried in the cold chamber. What was she doing? What was she thinking? In essence she was committing adultery with her sister's husband, sinning wildly, passionately, eagerly, and refusing to think of the future. For now, for a few blissful minutes, she was caught in the moment, the glorious, seductive moment.

Kelan, holding fast to her, tumbled onto the bed, where they tangled in the bedclothes. He kissed her again, his mouth claiming hers, and she tried not to respond, but they were still joined. Still one. As his tongue teased and played with hers, she felt his member swell within her again, realized that her fingers were tracing the sinewy muscles of his shoulders and back, touching old scars and smooth flesh. Despite the denials raging through her head, she gave in to the pure animal pleasure of him and closed her mind to all the nagging doubts that continued to plague her.

Perspiration oiled their bodies as he rolled her onto her back. Levered upon his elbows, he locked his gaze with hers. He penetrated more deeply, thrusting hard, creating a swirl of pleasure that consumed her and chased away any concerns that making love with him was wrong. For the moment, perhaps this last moment, they were one.

He withdrew slowly and she cried out.

With a smile he slid in again, deeper still.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders. "Kelan ..."

"Aye, little one, I want it too," he said and moved a bit.

She wriggled.

He came to her. Harder this time.

"Yes!"

Again.

Hotter. Wilder.

"Oh ... love ..." she cried out as a spasm jolted through her body and for an instant brilliant light flashed behind her eyes.

Every muscle in his body flexed, strident one second, relaxed the next as he settled upon her, his weight pinning her to the jumble of bedclothes.

Her breath was ragged, her heart hammering, the soft, sweet glow of being with him ever so slowly evaporating as she realized that she was here, alone, half naked with her sister's husband.

What have I done? Why can't I stop this? Oh ... God help me,
Kiera silently prayed as she held him against her and wished this moment would never end.

What had happened to her in the span of a day?

Kiera glanced at the sun shining brightly outside, dispelling all remnants of the early morning mist she had ridden through earlier.

As she lay on the bed next to Kelan, feeling his hot breath, Kiera told herself that she didn't love him. Nay, even that thought was preposterous. And yet she'd cried out ... oh, she couldn't think of it. He was a stranger. A handsome, well-muscled man who knew of the art of lovemaking. But he was her sister's husband and they were lying in her sister's bed. All was lost, for after this second bout of love-making Kiera knew deep down that her sister's ruse was bound to fail. There was no way that Kelan would mistake Elyn for Kiera once her sister returned ... or was there?

With one hand she reached for her clothes.

There was a tap on the door.

"Who is it?" Kelan yelled.

"Gladdys, m'lord," came the muffled reply. "I brought ye something to eat as Lady Kiera asked."

"Leave it," Kiera said quickly, for she couldn't take a chance that Gladdys, who had been working in the kitchen earlier, would hazard a peek inside and see either her or the gold tunic pooled upon the floor.

She silently prayed that Gladdys had not recognized her voice.

"Aye, m'lady," the maid said and Kiera felt a spot of relief as she heard the girl's footsteps recede. Quickly, she rolled away from Kelan and scooped up her tunic. Throwing it over her head, she climbed to her feet.

"Stay," she said when Kelan seemed about to get up. "I'll get it." She turned her back to him and hastily made the sign of the cross over her bosom.

Her bare feet swept over the rushes to the door, where she hesitated but an instant, then silently threw the latch. Offering up a prayer, she poked her head into the hallway and gratefully saw no one lurking in the corridor.

Thank the fates!

Swiftly, Kiera snatched the tray from the floor, shut the door behind her, and slipped the latch into place. Once more she'd been lucky, but how long would it be before her luck ran out?

Forcing herself to appear calm, she carried the tray to the bed, where Kelan, eyeing her as if she were the most interesting woman on earth, lay waiting. He hadn't bothered with his clothes and Kiera tried her damnedest not to stare at his long legs or the mat of swirling dark hair stretched over his chest, or his manhood, now slackened a bit, resting at the juncture of his legs. Nay, she would not even glance his way as she set the tray upon the bed next to him.

Instead, she turned her attention to the platter and the delicious odors emanating from it. The smells of salt pork and fish pies assailed her nostrils, and her stomach growled hungrily as she eyed the fruit tarts, slabs of cheese, vessel of thick honey, and slices of warm bread. How long had it been since she'd eaten? Could she risk but a few bites, then go look for Elyn again?

"Would you not like wine or mead?" she asked, spying the empty jug on the small table near the bed. "I can ask it to be brought up." She started to leave, but his hand reached out and encircled her wrist.

" 'Tis not important."

"But—"

"Can it not wait a few minutes?" he asked, and she dropped onto the edge of the bed. She couldn't risk making him suspicious, and her mouth was fairly watering with hunger.

"Of course."

Letting go of her arm, he sliced the bread and topped it with a chunk of cheese, then offered it to her. She reached for it, but he shook his head. "Uh-uh-uh. Bite." Holding the food to her lips, he waited as she accepted the morsel and savored the burst of flavor. As she was swallowing the cheese and bread, he tore off some of the pie and held that to her lips.

"I can feed myself."

"Can you?" He smiled and brushed her mouth with the morsel.

"Aye." But she took the tiny piece he offered and felt his finger slide between her teeth. Her tongue surrounded it before he pulled it away.

"Is this not more fun?" he mocked, sucking his own finger clean before turning his attention and knife to the pork.

"Different," she said and watched as one of his dark eyebrows raised. "But it would be more complete with the wine. Give me but a minute ..." Before he could snag her wrist again, she was off the bed and across the room. She opened the door slowly and found no one in the hallway, so she quickly edged to her own room, where the door had been left ajar. Noiselessly she slipped inside and slid the latch into place.

"What took you so long?" Penelope whined. Kiera jumped with surprise to find her sister there but then quickly placed her finger to her lips as she hitched her head in the direction of Elyn's room. The two chambers were separated by only one wall.

"Keep your voice down," she whispered, spying Elyn's blue silk gown hanging upon a screen. Oh, where the devil was her sister?

The last time Elyn had worn the pale dress was during the Revels a few months before. Kiera remembered that night.

Elyn had been happy then, carefree, her eyes bright with a secret as she'd danced with one knight after another. "Tonight I meet Brock," she'd whispered to Kiera as they'd met in the hallway when the music had stopped.

"Brock? But I thought Father forbade it. Are you not to marry the Lord of Penbrooke?"

Elyn's smile had faded as she dabbed at her brow with a small cloth. She was sweating, as she'd danced without a break for nearly an hour. "Mayhap. But I'm not married yet, am I?"

"You cannot go against Father's wishes."

"Nay?" Elyn had arched an impetuous, naughty eyebrow. Her smile had been pure defiance.

"Oh, no! Don't do it. You'll get caught." Kiera was frantic with worry, and the deed had not yet been done.

" 'Tis a risk I'll willingly take."

"And if you're found out, Father will have you flogged and banished, or locked in the east tower." Kiera had pulled her sister away from the crowd and behind a thick velvet curtain. Inside the darkened alcove there was less chance of being overheard.