Taken and Seduced (23 page)

She bit her lip, her worries returning. “I thought you would simply…go home.”

“My home is not safe for me or my brothers until I know what to expect from Martindale—or should I call him Becket, your family name?”

She shuddered even as she shook her head. “He still has the title, Adam.”

“Very well. But I have to talk to him; I have to see the truth in his eyes. And I will try not to injure him unless it means my life.”

Florrie was so overcome with relief and gratitude that she flung her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Adam.” All she could give him was her trust, and her belief that he would do the right thing. Would he?

It frightened her, how much she wanted to believe in him and the promise of his words. Her own future was uncertain, and there was a part of her that realized she’d almost longed for the security of the convent, for she would know her place
and have a place to belong. She had none of that now, and she should be frightened. For after all, she’d spent her life carefully keeping her distance from people, never needing anyone too much because they always disappointed her.

Hope and trust in Adam had been building within her for many days, and she still had trouble believing her trust would be satisfied. How could she love him without trust? Perhaps she’d never been meant to love at all.

But right now, he was in her arms, and he felt so good, so solid, as if he could defend her to the world. And London was beckoning, with all its uncertainty and changes. Neither one of them might ever be the same after they confronted her father. For she had her own things to say to the man who’d discarded her without a thought.

She felt…desperate, as if this might be her last moment alone with Adam. His arms held her tight, their bodies pressed so close together. She could hear his heart picking up speed, felt his desire for her pillowed against her stomach. Lifting her head from his chest, she looked up at him. He was watching her almost warily, as if he did not know what she would do.

She put her hands on either side of his face and pulled him down for a kiss.

The gentle lover of the previous night was suddenly gone, replaced by a man of desperate passion. He slanted his open mouth over hers, drinking her in, tasting every part of her mouth.
He sucked on her tongue, nibbled her lips, then his mouth journeyed on a path down her throat. He bent her back over his arm until he could reach the hollow between her collarbones, where he dipped his tongue. The magic of the passion between them was overwhelming.

He brought her upright, and then his hands were suddenly everywhere, exploring and touching, and she did the same. She loved the feel of his chest, the wide expanse, the firm curves of muscle. He obviously appreciated her chest, too, by the way he lifted her breasts through her garments, and teased her nipples with his thumbs. Every intimate touch made her want to squirm, brought her legs weaker, coming ever closer to where she wouldn’t be able to stand anymore.

Then to her shock, he picked her up, facing him, then guided her legs about his waist, forcing her skirt to slide up to her thighs. She gaped at him, while he only gave her a grin full of concentration and intent.

Then her back was against a tree, and his hips between her legs. She understood then, and a whole new wave of comprehension made her sigh with pleasure and clutch him with excitement. His hands were beneath her thighs and backside, cradling her, holding her where he wanted her. His fingertips touched the hot center of her, and she realized he’d been working her skirts ever higher.

“Now, oh please, now,” she whispered, holding back a groan that would be too loud.

Adam loved the feel of Florrie in his arms, willing and eager. She didn’t stop moving, didn’t stop touching him, an equal partner rather than a woman just accepting his passion. His experiences had been few, and had left him unprepared for the innocent, aroused Florrie.

She pulled on his tunic and shirt until they were above his waist, tugged at his laces. It was incredibly erotic to have her trying so desperately to disrobe him. Between the two of them, they pushed aside every garment standing between them and ecstasy.

And it was certainly ecstasy when at last he was deep inside her, as far as he could go, stretching and filling her. She pulled against his tunic front to keep him against her until he began to move, in and out, rotating his body, wanting her to find even more pleasure with each position.

His mouth caught her cry as she reached fulfillment, and they exchanged groans. He wanted to make this last forever, to share every bit of joy that he could, but somewhere in the depths of his lust-crazed mind, he knew his men were waiting.

So he let himself drop over the edge of pleasure, plummet through each wave that shook him, until at last he was breathless against her.

She locked her legs tight about his waist and collapsed against his chest. Into his tunic, she murmured, “I…I had no idea…”

He laughed hoarsely. “Frankly, neither did I.”

She lifted her head and searched his face, but he could not let her see the things inside him that even he didn’t understand. So with great reluctance, he pulled from her body, and set her on the ground. Her skirts fell in graceful folds around her, as she swayed back against the tree, watching without shame as he adjusted his clothing.

Hesitating, he asked, “You are…well?”

She smiled, slowly, wickedly. “Very well.”

It took everything in him not to lose himself in her again.

“We must hurry,” he said, taking her hand and tugging her back through the woods. “We can be in London by afternoon on the morrow.”

B
y sundown that same day, Florrie felt that she might have finally stopped blushing. Facing Robert and Michael that morn, after she and Adam had made love, had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Much as the two men had behaved as if nothing had happened, she felt guilty for enjoying herself when the culmination of their trip was approaching.

In the afternoon, she’d seen Adam looking stone-faced, while Robert playfully punched his arm. She was able to read Adam well enough by now to see the embarrassment he was also hiding.

Oh heavens, Robert was teasing him about their relationship. And it was all her fault.

To her surprise, Adam fought back, giving Robert a knock to the shoulder that almost had him sliding from the saddle. The two brothers looked at each other, while Robert laughed and Adam allowed a small smile of triumph to appear.

Though she was not one for envy, there would
have been a time where such sibling playfulness would have made her wistful. Not anymore. She felt confident that she and Christina had reached a new place in their relationship. She was actually looking forward to visiting her…when this was all over.

As the day came to a close, and the final night was upon them, all seemed to settle into a serious frame of mind. Now was the time for utmost concentration, for they had League forces to face, her father’s men to get through—and another unnamed foe who wanted them stopped, perhaps dead.

To keep all guessing as to their whereabouts, they’d remained well east of the River Lea, which marked the boundary between Essex and Middlesex, the shire surrounding London. They would have encamped in a wooded copse, as usual, but the sky grew dark well before sunset, signaling a storm. The wind picked up, swirling so much dirt that Florrie had to slit her eyes. The horses twitched with nervousness, and she felt like she could no longer see the holes in the road to avoid. It was as if nature was conspiring to keep them from London.

When Robert returned from scouting duty, Adam called above the wind, “We have to stop for the night!”

Florrie’s horse resisted, dancing as she gripped the reins. She petted its neck soothingly.

“I’ve spied a cattle shed in the distance,” Adam
continued. “We will cross the fields and hopefully find gates through the hedges.”

It seemed that they spent a long time crossing pastureland, opening and closing gates behind them. At last, as the first drops of rain hit, they pulled open the door to the wattle-and-daub-framed structure. Although it was piled with long bundles of hay, there was just enough room for four horses and four people. The was a lantern inside, and they had to leave the door open while Michael tried to light it, first using his flint and steel to start a stalk of hay burning. It was dangerous work, for the wind whipped into the shed, putting out every fire. But at last, the hay smoldered, and he was able to light the candle with it. Once the lantern shield was closed, giving off light, they put out the small fire with water from their skins, then closed the door on the storm.

Outside their shelter, the wind howled its fury and rain began to lash the roof. They could hear thunder in the distance growing ever closer. Florrie began to resign herself to getting little sleep, at least for a while.

The horses huddled together nervously, and the humans did the same. Adam told Robert and Michael that he was no longer going to challenge the marquess to combat.

Michael studied him, while Robert gaped.

“You’ve changed your mind,” Robert said, “just like that?”

“It has been coming on a long time,” Adam said slowly. “At last I saw that someone’s death was not a good enough answer. So I will confront him and learn the truth.”

“And what if he does not wish to give it to you?” Robert asked.

“I will help persuade him,” Florrie said with conviction.

Adam glanced at her, but didn’t reply. She felt the slight, and told herself that he was simply focused on his plan.

“And how are we to react if Martindale responds with force?” Michael asked.

“We defend ourselves, of course,” Adam said. “But I would prefer if few people are injured. If I can find no satisfaction with Martindale’s answers, we take our facts to the king.”

At that there was stunned silence.

“Surely I can help you find satisfaction speaking with my father,” Florrie said.

Adam looked at her gravely. “That will not be possible.”

“What do you mean?”

“I do not want you to be there.”

She gasped. “But that was the sole reason you took me from my home!”

“’Tis different now that I will not be challenging him.”

“But I have a right to confront him, too, after the way he’s abandoned me!”

A sudden crash of lightning seemed to shake the shed.

“You are impressive when you’re angry,” Adam said dryly.

“’Tis God, saying I am in the right.”

“Or the wrong,” he countered.

She glared at him, and he returned her gaze with that impassivity that might drive her mad.

With exasperation, Robert said, “Florrie has the right to make her own decision. Just as you have the right, Adam, to change your mind. But you should have consulted me.”

Adam frowned.

“I am your brother, with equal to lose.”

“Forgive me,” Adam said stiffly. “I was thinking about—” He broke off.

Robert waited until another boom had echoed through the night. Lifting his voice, he said, “I know why you changed your mind. And I agree with you. I just prefer to be consulted.”

“And so do I!” Florrie agreed.

Robert lifted an eyebrow. “You did not know about his change of heart?”

“Oh, well…aye, I did.”

Robert shook his head with a sigh, and Adam rolled his eyes.

She continued, “I meant consulted about future plans—like Adam thinking he could tell me I had to stay behind. Wouldn’t I have been in more danger alone?”

“I would have asked Michael to watch over—”

“Do not bother,” she said, lifting her chin. “After everything I have been through on this journey, I am seeing it through to the end.”

Florrie felt Adam’s resistance, knew he wanted to protect her, but she could not back down. At last he nodded, just as another flash of lightning shone through the shutters. The thunder and lightning had picked up speed, occurring only moments apart. The horses had grown more and more restive, and Michael went to comfort them. There was a succession of loud booms and flashes, and in the small confines, one horse jerked with fright, catching Michael between it and another. Michael’s breath left him in a grunt. Adam and Robert jumped to their feet, and Florrie tried to follow, but Adam pushed her into a corner.

“Stay here,” he ordered. “They could seriously harm you.”

She nodded, hugging herself.

The three men stood among the horses, holding them tight by their halters, talking to them, but not much could be heard beyond the pounding of thunder and the sizzle of lightning. The roof had begun to leak in several spots, one of which was right where Florrie was. She took a step to the side and shivered.

Adam held her horse as well as his, and with another flash, hers reared wildly, just missing Adam with its flailing hooves. She could not
stand aside and watch a tragic accident. Wrapping her arms around her horse’s neck, she spoke soothingly, comforting with the tone of her voice as well as her steady hands. Shivering, the animal at last quieted.

They stood with the horses for another hour, until at last the storm began to subside. The thunder moved into the distance, taking with it the worst of the lightning.

Florrie straightened, her hand on her lower back, and smiled at Adam with confidence. “And if you think I’m good with horses, wait until you see how good I can be with my father. You need me. You know nothing about him or how he’ll react.” She thought again about how crazed her father had acted that night of his illness, when he’d showed her the proof of his illegitimacy. For years, she’d told herself it was the fever that had made him talk about the priest’s ghost, but somewhere inside, she couldn’t be certain.

Adam gave her a short bow, smiling. “Aye, my lady, you have won my consent. And we have all won our rest. I think the horses will be only too glad to sleep.”

Halfway through the morn, Michael guided them through the fens that encroached upon the River Lea. The river had separated where it crossed the low marshland, and there were several bridges, all well maintained being so close to London. Adam, who’d planned to hire guides
along the journey if he hadn’t had Michael, was glad for his knowledge.

But bridges meant people, and excluding the Thames, this was the main road to London from Essex. So there were far too many people. Now that they had supposedly ruled out Bladesmen or Martindale’s men following them, Adam felt uneasy and constantly on guard. Who else knew or cared what they were doing? Could the Crown somehow have gotten wind of Adam’s plan? Perhaps King Henry did not care what Martindale had done in the past, as long as he was a loyal supporter now. For the king had never met Adam’s parents, and might not consider their deaths as relevant to his reign’s uneasy peace.

As soon as they were over the last bridge, Adam debated turning south, away from the main road to London, but there were now so many people, that the crowd proved a defense of its own. Adam decided that they would have to risk the final two leagues of the journey out in the open. They ate their midday meal in a crowded village tavern, and after journeying another hour, they could see the walls of the city in the distance and the spires of towering churches. Adam had never seen anything so massive, and he saw Florrie’s mouth sag open when she first realized what she saw.

The road they traveled was soon lined with cottages, thickening as they approached the city. They passed beneath Aldgate, Michael told them, a massive many-storied building arching over
the road in between the curtain walls that protected the city at night. A headless body hung from the battlements, and although Adam saw Florrie flinch at the sight, they did not have much time to look up. Traffic slowed to a crawl beneath the gate, and did not improve inside. When they saw an empty stretch of road, muddy from the previous day’s rain, they had to aim for it, weaving past horses and carts and coaches. A flock of geese being driven in for slaughter startled many a horse.

Adam, Robert, and Florrie rode side by side, with Michael behind. Almost shouting to be heard above the many sounds of merchants hawking their wares, and animals protesting, Adam said, “Now is when men will be looking for us, though I fear there is not much they can do. Be on your guard.”

His eyes were focused everywhere, searching for someone paying too much attention to them. There were timber-framed buildings lining the road, two and three stories high, each story wider than the one below.

Michael had told Adam to head straight into the city along Lombard Street, where they would eventually run into Martindale House, a mansion in an older parish. Just past Trinity Priory, the street widened a bit where Aldgate branched off of Lombard. It was there that a sudden sound from behind made the voices of the crowd rise. People started flowing wildly to each side of the
street, pointing behind Adam’s party. He turned in the saddle to see a troop of knights galloping straight toward them, ignoring the wild cries of people trying to get out of their way.

There was too much purpose in their movement. Had they been waiting just within the gate, hoping to spot Adam’s party?

The panicked crowd surged around them, and Adam had to detour around a coach. Fighting to control his horse, it took every inch of his strength to rejoin his party.

And he could neither find Robert, Michael, nor Florrie. He stood up in his stirrups, trying to see over the mass confusion around him. The horsemen had thundered past, but now they were wheeling around, fighting against the carts and horses and pigs.

Robert expertly guided his horse past two grinning boys running through the street. He pulled up hard next to Adam. “Do you see them?” he shouted.

Adam shook his head. “The coach separated me from all of you.”

“The knights forced me off to the right, and I got caught up in a group of women carrying baskets of laundry. Damn, but this city is busy. Do you think Michael is with Florrie?”

He had spoken the question that Adam feared. “I hope so.”

“The knights are returning,” Robert began. “I will head down the street on the right—”

Adam cut him off. “’Tis too dangerous. You need to stay with me and—”

“Cease, Adam! You cannot protect me for the rest of my life. Just like last night, you’re still treating me like a child, from not consulting me about important decisions about Martindale to being too controlling.” He lowered his voice as much as he was able. “You do not have to be my father. Just be my brother.”

Adam felt something tighten in his throat as he thought of leaving his brother at the mercy of such a city. He’d felt the same way when Paul left them.

But Robert was right. Adam was still trying to make his decisions for him—too keep him safe. But Adam could no longer take on such a responsibility. Florrie was the one who needed him now.

The knights had almost completed their turn and, more haphazardly than their first thunderous approach, were beginning to head for them.

“Let me go to the right before you move,” Robert said, controlling his horse as it danced in a circle. “We look enough alike that if they’re truly watching for us, they might follow me. Where will you go?”

“To Martindale House. Michael would take her there.” He prayed fervently that she still had Michael.

“I’ll see you there!” Robert called, giving a wave
as he wheeled his horse about and aimed right for the horsemen.

Adam headed for a side alley. The horsemen seemed surprised by Robert’s bold move, and broke ranks before he could hit them full on. In the confusion, many turned to follow Robert, but Adam saw no more.

He had to find Florrie.