Lords of Darkness and Shadow (99 page)

Her head came up and her eyes were huge on him. “Raze it?” she repeated. “Oh, Sean, you do not mean to…?”

He put a finger on her lips, quieting her. “I will not raze my own castle,” he was more aware of his finger on her soft lips than the subject at hand. “When I go to the king this night, it will be to discuss an entirely new set of orders.”

“But why must you go at all? Now that we have married, surely it changes things.”

He looked at her, his clear blue eyes soft yet resigned at the same time. “I made a promise that I must keep,” he said after a moment. “Long before I met you, I made a promise to William Marshall that I would do all in my power to see John fall. I must keep that promise.”

She didn’t look entirely accepting. “But… but riding to the Marches, to battle, is part of that promise?”

He nodded slowly. “Absolutely,” he shifted her on his lap, his hands searching out new places on her torso he’d not yet touched. “You see, before you and I found each other at the chapel, I had made the Marshall a promise that I would fulfill my mission if he would ensure that, in the end, you became mine.  But your happenstance arrival changed things. Now that I have you, I still promised the Marshall that I would complete my task. And I intend to do so.”

“So you must ride to battle?”

“I must keep up the illusion that I am still loyal to the king. And that means that I continue to follow his orders. If the man wants me to go to the Marches, then go I must.”

She looked at him, scrutinizing every angle, every feature. He had explained himself and she would not argue his sense of honor.

“I have made a mess of things, haven’t I?”

He grinned. “Not at all. ‘Tis I who have made the mess. But we shall get through this, have no doubt.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. She could feel his breath on her face. “Will you promise me something, then?”

“If I can.”

She wriggled her nose as she thought of what she would say. She was sure he would refuse but she would ask nonetheless. “I am afraid to stay here,” she whispered. “When you ride for the Marches, please do not leave me behind. I want to go with you.”

He didn’t outright refuse her. In fact, he lowered his gaze, perhaps contemplating her words, perhaps contemplating something else.  Finally he spoke.

“I will not leave you here, but you cannot ride to battle with me.”

“Then where will I go?”

“Back to Watford House. It will be the safest place for you until this madness is finished.” His eyes took on a distant look. “In fact, I think I shall ask the Marshall to escort you. He must inform Jocelin of our marriage and it would be good to have him as moral support for you should Jocelin rage.”

“He will rage,” she agreed, somewhat sadly. “But I do not need the Marshall’s support. I can face him alone.”

“You will not face him alone. The Marshall will be there.”

She opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it when she saw the look on his face.  She studied his expression for several long moments before pressing her face into the crook of his neck. Her arms around him tightened.

“Your decision is made?” she asked softly.

“It is.”

“Then do you think we could forget all of our troubles for five minutes this night and simply enjoy the happiness of our marriage?” She lifted her head to look at him. “Since the moment we’ve met, politics and war and the king have dominated our relationship. Can we not think of anything but ourselves for the next five minutes and feel the joy of this union?”

He grasped her by the chin, his sharp gaze studying every line, every contour of her face. With a seductive smile on his lips, his mouth closed down gently over hers, taking several long tastes of her honeyed lips. It wasn’t long before his tongue plunged deep into her mouth and his hands moved to her head, holding it fast and still against him. As his lips ravaged her, Sheridan managed to speak through his fevered attention.

“Take me as your wife this night, Sean,” she whispered. “I do not want to wait. If we are to be separated, then give me the memory of this night to hold deep in my heart until you return to me. Please.”

He stopped kissing her long enough to gaze into her luminous eyes.  “We have no time, sweetling,” he murmured. “Even now, I must return to the king. Every moment I delay invites more suspicion.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Give me five minutes,” she begged softly. “You are riding to battle, Sean. What if you do not return? What if…?”

She couldn’t finish and he pulled her close to him, holding her tightly as he rose from the chair and carried her into the bed chamber.

It was cold and dark but for the weak moonlight streaming in through the thin lancet window. Sean lay her carefully down on the mattress, rough though it was, and resumed his gentle kisses. He could give her five minutes, though he very much wanted to give her more. She deserved far more.

Sheridan was partially covered by his massive body, feeling his weight atop her. It was a new, exhilarating feeling. His mouth was on hers, his hands in her hair, on her neck, moving down her arm. Boldly, she took a hand and placed it on her breast, their eyes meeting as she did so.  Sean’s gaze was powerful, consuming, as his hand gently tightened over the delicious fleshy mound. Then his lips descended on her again, with such passion that she sucked in her breath at his lustful attack. The hand on her breast began to massage it, rubbing at the peaked nipple through the fabric. Though she was a maiden, Sheridan knew she must have more of him. She must have all of him. The man was her husband and she would know him.

The surcoat she wore fastened on the side and she reached a hand down to unhook the stays.  Without a word, she unleashed the entire garment and began to pull it off. Sean saw what she was doing; too weak to stop her, for he very badly wanted the same thing she did, he helped her. The surcoat ended up on the floor followed very quickly by her shift. His lips against her mouth, her face, he gently removed her pantalets and unfastened the ribbons that held her hose. As he pulled them off, he stroked her silky legs, acquainting himself with something he never thought to have.

It was an empowering feeling, more overwhelming than he could have imagined. Never had he had anyone that belonged only to him. He paused a moment in his tender assault to remove his tunic. His breathing was coming in heavy gasps as he yanked off his boots, followed by his breeches. He could feel Sheridan’s hands timidly, gently, touching his flesh as he removed his clothing, inspecting his body for the very first time.  By the time his hose were off, he collapsed on her warm, tender body, gathering her up in his arms and feeling her naked flesh against his. It was almost more than he could bear, for she was warm and soft. His lips found hers once again and he growled as his tongue plunged into her mouth.

He wanted to take his time with her; God knows he did. But there was no time left. His mouth left hers, his lips moving down her neck to her full breasts to find a taut nipple. Suckling gently, he carefully wedged his enormous body between her legs, his hands on her thighs to gently part them. He could feel her panting beneath him, small cries as he suckled harder. He could feel her hands in his hair. It was the most wonderful thing he had ever experienced.

One hand moved to the sensual core between her legs. He fingered her delicately, feeling her flinch beneath him.  After a few brief moments of acquainting her with the feel of his touch, he began to stroke her more boldly. Sheridan started but kept her calm; he proceeded to insert a gentle finger into her. She gasped at the intrusion but he could not wait to soothe her or talk her through the act; she was wet from his attentions, her virgin body preparing itself for his entry. And enter he did; removing his hand, he held her tightly and carefully, firmly, thrust into her.

Sheridan yelped at the passionate invasion but quickly bit her lip to stay silent; as Sean thrust again and still again to seat himself, she bit her lip harder and buried her face in his chest. Holding him tightly, she worked through the pressure, the slight pain, feeling him move within her as a husband moves within a wife. This was what she had wanted; all of the man. Now she had him. As the slight pain faded and Sean began to move, a most remarkable sensation began to blossom.

His thrusts were tender, firm and measured. One hand gently fingered her breast, causing wicked sensations throughout her body. The more he moved, the more heated her loins became until she gasped his name. Sean’s mouth covered her lips, somewhat to silence her but mostly to taste her. He couldn’t get enough of the woman, body and soul, and gorged himself while he had the chance.  She was more than he could have imagined and far more than he had hoped for. 

But he knew he could not take his time with her, drawing out their passion until they were both weak with it.  This night was a duty, a pleasure, a necessity and a foretaste of what was to come. As much as he would have wanted it to last, he knew it could not.  His hand moved from her breast to her Venus Mound and he rubbed at the throbbing nub where their bodies joined.  Within the first two strokes, her body stiffened and he felt her tender walls pulling at him in climax. Sean answered immediately, finding his release, feeling every throb with the greatest pleasure he had ever known. Even after he was spent, he continued to move. He did not want the moment to end; it made him heartsick to think about it.

But end it must. It had been more than five minutes, but not much more. As his senses and even breathing returned, he opened his eyes to gaze into the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Sheridan was looking at him, her cheeks flushed and her expression delightfully sated. When their eyes met, she smiled.

“It was a remarkable five minutes, husband,” she murmured, watching him grin. “You would have denied me that?”

He propped himself up on one elbow, gazing down into her exquisite features and brushing a stray bit of hair from her cheek. “What a fool I was to resist,” he kissed her tenderly. “How I wish I could have taken all the time in the world. Are you all right?”

“I am all right,” she whispered, her smile fading. “Thank you, Sean.”

“For what?”

“For giving me a part of you.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “You have more than a part of me, Lady de Lara. You have all of me. You are the most important thing in the world to me.”

Unable to reply, feeling increasingly saddened as the pangs of separation threatened, she lifted herself up to his lips, attaching herself to his mouth and kissing him with passion that defied explanation.  Sean enfolded her in his arms, taking a last few moments to experience the taste and feel of her. He would need the memory to sustain him in the dark days to come.

“I love you,” he murmured against her mouth.

“And I love you,” was her whispered reply.

A few minutes later, they were dressed. It had been done silently, swiftly.  Sean took her hand and led her back into the antechamber, sitting her carefully in the chair and patting her shoulder affectionately as he moved for the lancet window to view the grounds below.

Fortunate for them that they had possessed a keen sense of timing; no sooner had Sean reached the window than Gilby was rapping at the door.  Sheridan leapt up and unbolted the panel, allowing the little man entry and locking the door behind him.  

“You had better go, Sean,” he blustered inside. “There are men looking for you; I could hear them speaking your name across the grounds.”

Sean swore softly under his breath, knowing that he had delayed too long, and moved swiftly for the door. He was about to leave when he suddenly stopped as if a thought had just occurred to him. Retracing his steps, he took Sheridan in his arms and kissed her deeply. It was enough to weaken her knees and he had to steady her when he released her. She grinned and he winked boldly.

“Gilby, take care of her,” he instructed the old man, his soft gaze lingering on his wife’s lovely face. “She is all to me.”

“I must remove her from the Tower,” Gilby replied, witnessing the tender looks between Sean and his wife. “She cannot stay here, Sean. You know that. “

“I am going to ask the Marshall to take her back to Watford House.”

Gilby went to Sean and yanked on his sleeve. “She cannot wait for the Marshall to come for her.  I must remove her, and young de Braose, immediately. I shall take them both to Watford House if that is your wish.”

Sean tore his gaze away from Sheridan long enough to look at the little old man. “She needs a full escort. There are twenty thousand men attacking London as we speak. You’ll never get her through their lines without protection.”

Gilby raised an eyebrow. “She made it through their lines by herself.”

“It was a stroke of luck.”

“Be that as it may, I will take her and de Braose out of London myself, this very night. No one would dare bother a physic on his duties.”

“What duties would that be? You are pulling a cart laden with hay like a farmer.”

“I shall tell them that I have been ordered to attend the king’s troops outside the walls.  The hay is for their animals.”

It was a plausible scenario; moreover, most of the king’s men knew Gilby. He’d been at the Tower forever. It was a rare moment of indecision in Sean’ eyes; both Gilby and Sheridan saw it. When the old man looked at Sheridan as if silently beseeching her to support his statement, she went to her husband and wrapped her soft hands around one of his enormous mitts.  When Sean looked down at her, she smiled sweetly.