The Commander's Desire (31 page)

She glanced toward the closed doors leading
to the castle gate. No Richard. A relief, but troublesome, too.

“
You are disappointed your
brother didn’t come?” the Commander asked, with his usual
perception.

Elwytha glanced at him, startled. “I…I am
disturbed. I hope all is well.”

“
Never fear,” the Prince
interjected. “Rats are not easily killed.”

Elwytha was shocked, and for a moment words
escaped her. Then she cut back, “So speaks wisdom from the lips of
a serpent.”

“
Prince,” the Commander said
mildly. “It is our wedding feast.”

The Prince smiled. “Then I will toast
Richard’s absence, and the peace that has begun.” With a mocking
head tilt to Elwytha, he drank deeply from his cup.

Elwytha wanted to roll her eyes, but instead
she ignored the snake for the remainder of the meal. As the
Commander had said, it was their feast. A time for celebration. The
beginning of her new life. But how long would it last? If Richard
arrived on the morrow disdaining peace, would the Commander wish to
keep their marriage vows? Or would he reject her as Richard would
probably reject the peace?

These thoughts brought no cheer, so Elwytha
endeavored to ignore them. She savored the tasty roast lamb, the
honey glazed carrots, and the fresh bread. Delicate tarts were
served for dessert. Mary had outdone herself. In the background,
Mac à Chruiteir strummed beautiful notes on the clàrsach, adding a
final, delicate note of beauty to the perfect day.

More rounds of jovial toasts circled the room
afterward, and Elwytha realized again how well respected and liked
her husband was. His men revered him. She had no doubt that many—if
not most—would lay down their lives for him.

The Commander smiled, and under the table
reached for her hand. “Are you ready to say good even?” he asked
quietly. Her heart leaped with anxiety and excitement as she met
his eyes. They steadied her. She nodded, unable to trust her
voice.

When they rose, ribald laughter and advice
peppered the air.

“
Carry her, Commander, as
you did when she first arrived,” shouted one lout.

Elwytha closed her ears, unwilling to hear
any further mortifying jests. She held the Commander’s hand tightly
as they left the dining hall. The quiet halls soothed her nerves a
little, and they walked slowly toward his chamber. He seemed to be
in no hurry, and that helped calm her a little, too.

At last, they entered his chamber, and the
door closed the world out. She stared up at him and licked her
lips. “I…I would change,” she whispered.

He nodded. “Take the time you need.”

She hurried into her room and closed the
door, heart pounding. She could find no name for all the tumultuous
feelings battering her. Fear. Excitement. Anxiety. But mostly,
overwhelming, heart pounding nerves. Slowly, she changed into the
beautiful white gown Hagma and Mary had given her. Then she pulled
the white flowers from her hair and brushed it. That’s when she
realized she still wore the Prince’s necklace. Carefully she
unclasped it, and then opened the door to the Commander’s
chamber.

He sat on the edge of their marriage bed,
thankfully still fully clothed.

Hesitantly, she moved closer and held out the
necklace. “Would you return this to the Prince?”

“
Yes.” He placed it on the
table next to his bed.

She stood very close to him now, at his
knees, and looked down at him. His large hands settled on the curve
of her hips. She drew a breath of surprise. She liked it…even
savored it.

He looked up then, into her eyes. His lips
were pressed tight, as though apprehensive. Nervously, she stared
back, but offered him a faint smile. His eyes lightened to a clear,
wonderful silver. “I don’t repulse you?” he asked in his quiet,
deep voice.

Wordlessly, she shook her head.

His hand closed around hers and he urged her
forward, onto his bed, to lie beside him. Elwytha’s heart beat
faster to be so close to her husband.

Leaning over her, he kissed her slowly, and
then rained kisses down her throat. She liked his touch, and found
herself longing for more. The Commander whispered, quiet and warm
against her neck, “I wish to please you.”

Elwytha didn’t know what he meant. But she
did know one thing. His touch thrilled and pleased her to the very
core of her being. She whispered, “You are.”

He drew back and looked at her, lips curved a
bit. “Verily?”

With a trembling smile, she said, “Yes,
verily.”

When he kissed her again, she shyly kissed
him back. A new emotion swelled in her heart then, and with
amazement, her mind touched it.

Love.

She loved the Commander…her husband. Shock
and wonderment filled her, and Elwytha pulled back to gaze at his
beloved face. Her hands cradled his jaw and she looked into his
silver eyes, at his bent nose and his beautiful mouth. And his
brow—so straight and dark on one side and so slashed and cruelly
misshapen on the other. She lifted her head and kissed it, wishing
that by her touch and love she could heal it. At least, perhaps,
heal his heart.

He watched her, unmoving; hope and a dark bit
of wonder in his eyes. “I don’t repulse you?” he asked yet
again.

“
No,” she breathed, stroking
her thumbs over his cheekbones. “You don’t repulse me at
all.”

A low, aching rumble sounded from his chest.
He kissed her then with a barely checked, searing passion.
Elwytha’s blood lit on fire, and she melted against him.

After long moments, she hesitantly touched
his shoulders, and with an inarticulate sound, he removed his
tunic. Now she felt his warm skin, hard and alive with muscle
beneath her fingers. Her cheeks flushed with the bold liberties she
took with him. Clearly, though, he did not mind. His low growl said
she pleased him.

Hot languor stirred in her blood when he
kissed her throat, and a wordless, aching longing grew in her. She
longed to be closer still to this man she loved.

Elwytha felt self-conscious when he loosened
her dress, but not for long. How could she feel embarrassed when
his silver eyes told her that she was beautiful, and his every
kiss, every touch cherished her? Love surged in her, frightening in
its intensity. Elwytha wanted to give herself to him, completely
and utterly. Forever.

Soon all her mind saw were sparks and light,
and finally, when she could not stand the separation between them
another moment longer, the Commander took her as his own. Elwytha
shuddered with the beauty and fulfillment of being one with the man
she loved.

Later, when she lay quietly, replete and full
of wonder, she wondered how it could have happened. How could she
love her enemy…the man she’d thought had murdered her brother?

But he hadn’t killed him. She knew it now,
more deeply than ever. For the Commander was a man of honor. It was
a fact she had learned well. He would never stab a man in the
back—in battle, or out of battle.

More disturbing thoughts followed. The peace
agreement. Why hadn’t her brother come? Did he want her married?
Did he view her as a threat to his crown? Did he want her out of
his palace, and this was his way to rid himself of her?

Elwytha did not want to believe any of these
things, but she also did not know what to believe after living in
the enemy’s keep for two weeks. One thing she did know. She loved
the Commander, and she would go to any length to protect him from
her brother’s plots.

Chapter
Twenty

Elwytha slept all night
cuddled
in the crook of the Commander’s
arm. She felt comfortable and safe. The blast of a horn cruelly
awoke her from this peaceful rest.

Her brother! It blasted again.

Elwytha sat straight up, clutching the
bedclothes. The cold air nipped her shoulders. He had come.

Dread arose. She wished he’d go away again.
She wished she didn’t have to see him.

Beside her, the Commander rumbled, “Your
brother arrives.” His hand curled around her elbow, urging her back
to him.

“
Yes.” Gladly, she snuggled
back into his strong, warm arms.

“
He can wait a while longer
to see you.” He smiled, and she grinned back.

“
Yes,” she whispered, and
her husband kissed her, luring her mind to passion
again.

Later, after a sumptuous breakfast that had
been left outside their door, they set out to find Richard. They
found him in the Prince’s private study, sipping ale in a
comfortable chair. Two guards stood close by.

The Prince and King Richard looked for all
the world like good friends, talking and enjoying a drink. Except
when Elwytha stepped through the door she felt the thick tension
thrumming through the room.

Richard rose when he saw her. “Sister.” He
allowed her to kiss his bearded cheek. Cold blue eyes regarded her.
He was not happy, she discerned immediately. “You look well.”

“
As do you, brother.” She
glanced at the Prince, who lounged in his chair, long legs
languidly stretched before him. He watched Richard as a cat who’d
found a mouse. Apprehension crawled within her.

“
Richard,” she said, “this
is the Commander, my husband.”

Richard’s lips curled. He stared at the
Commander, but made no effort to acknowledge him. He turned to the
Prince. “I wish to thank you for your hospitality. Also for the
feast tonight to celebrate our peace. Now, I would take your
leave.”

The Prince nodded. Beside Elwytha, the
Commander now radiated an ominous, tightly leashed aggression.

As Richard passed Elwytha,
his eyes met hers. The message was clear.
Meet me later.
She nodded
imperceptibly, and he was gone.

The Prince spoke. “Princess, you brother
promises the oil of peace. Now we will see—will it smooth our
differences, or will it burn?”

Elwytha feared she knew the answer to that,
and the Prince knew it. His sharp eyes cut into her. Silkily, he
pressed, “Don’t hesitate to rush to your brother’s side. As the
Commander’s wife, you have his full trust, and full run of the
palace. Pray, do not disappoint.”

Elwytha frowned uncomfortably, and wished to
escape the annoying Prince, but she made herself sit, along with
her husband, and listen to the two discuss armory repairs. While
she found this interesting, most of her mind dwelt upon Richard and
what he might be plotting. Even now, she shivered with the horror
of what she had planned to do only two weeks ago; with what she
knew her brother expected her to do, even now. She had to speak to
him. Reason with him. Argue for peace. And warn him, if all else
failed, that the Prince suspected a trap.

Feeling edgy, she fidgeted until the
Commander noticed. He turned to her. “You can visit your brother.
I’ll be along soon. He’s in the guest quarters.”

Elwytha smiled at him, unable to hide her
love. She hadn’t told him yet. It still felt so new…so precious and
tender. Did he love her, too? She was afraid. What if he did not?
What if Richard ignored her pleas and broke the peace? Would the
Commander still wish her for a wife? Or would he despise her
then?

She forced herself to rise. Despite the
Prince’s unwelcome presence, she longed to stay with the Commander.
Fear soured her stomach. What if after she spoke to Richard the
peace fell apart and things were never the same between them
again?

“
I’ll see you soon,” she
promised; more to herself than to him. She would see him again. All
would be well. It had to be. She felt too shy to kiss him in front
of the Prince, though she longed to.

The Commander felt no such qualms. He walked
her to the door and kissed her before she left. Joy warmed her
heart and leant wings to her feet as she sped toward the guest
quarters.

* * * * *

Elwytha knocked on her brother’s chamber
door. By now, her spirits had settled. Soberly, she marshaled her
thoughts. Time to figure out her brother’s plots. Time to convince
him of peace, if possible.

“
It’s Elwytha.”

“
Enter.”

Elwytha entered her brother’s large suite.
Soft white pelts covered the stone floor, tapestries decorated the
walls, and a large bed, draped in red fabric, looked imposing in
the far corner. Twin, high, slitted windows let in the bright
morning sunlight.

Richard looked fit, and his beard appeared
freshly trimmed. He always trimmed it before a new offensive. This
clue to her brother’s mindset did not quiet her fears.

“
Are you welcoming me to the
enemy castle, sister mine?” he inquired, approaching her. She could
read no emotion on his hard face.

“
Are you here to sign the
peace, brother?”

Richard gave a small smile. “I am here to
achieve my goals.” He came still closer. “Do you still pledge
loyalty to your king?”

An odd energy radiated from him. Uneasily,
Elwytha replied, “You are my brother. Would I abandon you?”

He eyed her, his blue eyes so dark and hard
they appeared like stones. “You tell me, sister.”

Uncomfortably, Elwytha changed the subject.
“I expected you yesterday. Didn’t you receive my missive in
time?”

“
I did,” he acknowledged.
“But it displeased me.”

“
Why?”

His lips curled higher, revealing gritted
teeth. “Your warnings for peace, and your pleas for honor. Tell me,
Elwytha. Did they force it from your hand, or did you write it from
your heart?”