By Arrangement Part 24

Gently he turned her face to his and forced her to meet his gaze. He had not even touched her yet, but that aching need already tensed her belly and a hot insistence throbbed between her legs. She watched as he demanded. Watched as he cradled her and kissed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and moistened their hard tips with his tongue. Watched as his fingers slowly traced along her breastbone and teased in a circle. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swelled beneath that wandering touch, anxious, begging, and her consciousness focused on nothing besides her silent, breathless urging. His fingers slid to one moist nipple. She saw her body arch toward that devastating touch, and then she saw little else. Incredible sensations and single-minded desire obliterated all thought.

He aroused her as if time didn't matter, as if no one awaited him in the courtyard and no journey beckoned. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s had never been so sensitive, and his deliberate caresses raised excruciating pleasures. When his strong arm lifted her shoulders and his mouth replaced his hand, the delicious need he created with his lips and teeth became consuming and painful.

He lifted his head and looked down her body. Her own dazed eyes followed. His hand splayed over her belly, his light golden skin contrasting in a compelling way with her creamy whiteness. He pressed down, stilling the rock of her hips. He caressed her thighs and they both watched that hand's progress. Her breath shortened to a series of low sighs.

"I am thinking that it is in my interests to leave you ill contented," he said softly as his hand trailed over her body. "Abstinence is a powerful enhancement to pa.s.sion. I do not think that you would remain ill too long after my return."

She barely heard this frank a.s.sessment of her condition and resolve. She watched and felt his hand follow the crevice where her legs joined. Stabs of heat distracted her.

"But I find that I cannot do it," he said, "I have missed your pa.s.sion and would at least have that from you this day."

His gaze claimed her attention, and his words penetrated her stupor. He kissed her beautifully. "Open to me, darling," he said while his fingers touched the soft mound of hair. She had been waiting for him to rise and turn and lay her down. She had been waiting for the intimacy of his body along hers and the obliteration of her choices. She realized that he had never intended to use her desire against her like that today.

She hesitated, and almost said, as he made her say that first time, that she wanted him.

"Open," he commanded gently. His fingers caressed so close to her need that her breathing stopped and that hidden flesh pulsed. "There is no defeat in taking pleasure from me thus."

She had no resistance. She closed her eyes and parted her legs and accepted the relief he offered. It did not take long. He touched her slowly and gently as if to prolong the ecstasy, but her body already cried for release and each touch sent lines of frantic sensations through her until soon she felt the incredible tension wind inside and she thrashed and stiffened and exhaled sounds of mounting desire. He pulled her shoulders to him and held her firmly, kissing her ferociously while he pushed her over the edge into fulfillment, taking her cries into himself when the violent climax finally crashed through her. He held her in a tight embrace for a long while, his face buried in the angle of her neck and shoulder. She awoke from the delirium to find her hands clawing the garments at his chest. She doubted that he had found satisfaction in this.

He loosened his hold and looked down at her. She noticed a little blood on his lip where she must have bitten him.

Silently he rose and laid her down on the bed. He caressed her face and looked into her eyes. "I must go."

He had contented her, but her deeper desire still burned. She almost urged him to stay longer and to finish what had begun. The choice would not really be hers then.

He left. Left her with the proof that he possessed the power to seduce her back. Forcing would have never been necessary, this parting visit had said, because this gender persuasion had always been available to him and would be in the future. For a while longer the choice would be squarely hers, though. He had left her to decide if she could live this marriage and come to him, once again, of her own will. She gazed at the blue pleats billowing above the bed. Aye, maybe she could. During that brief submersion into pleasure she hadn't thought about anything else, not even what she meant to him. Only later, when he left, had the pain and doubts closed in. In time perhaps they would cease to torment her. In a few years maybe her love would only exist as an amusing memory.

She should leave this bed now, before she fell asleep. If Emma found her upstairs in the morning, the whole household would a.s.sume that her illness had ended and Joanna's room would cease to be an option. No choice then. She smiled at how greedily her soul grasped at the possibility for self-deception. Stay here, fall asleep, and it is done. An accident rather than a decision. The bed had lost its strangeness and a delicious relaxation claimed her. Even as she admonished herself to leave, her lids lowered. She surrendered to the prideless love that would accept any pain to be close to him and would gratefully accept the small part of himself that he chose to give her. She did not know how long she slept, but suddenly her eyes flew open. A sound had penetrated her dream, prodding her out of her peace. She raised herself on an elbow. A large dark shadow moved past the window nearest the wardrobe door.

"David?" she mumbled, wiping her eyes.

A strange presence filled the chamber. She heard soft, scuffling footsteps. The shadow moved, and two others joined it.

Suddenly alert with shock, she started to scream. The large shadow lunged toward her. Strong arms pinned her down while rough hands pried and shoved a cloth into her mouth. She thrashed violently against the suffocating gag. More hands pressed on her until she became immobile. She stared up into strange faces barely visible in the moonlight while her heart pounded wildly in the renewed silence.

"Now you be calm, my lady, and no harm will come to you," a man's voice said softly, just inches from her ear. Not an English voice, she considered as she jerked motionlessly against the restraining hands. Scottish.

One hand released her and a glint of steel appeared in it and waved in front of her eyes. "Listen carefully. We will let you up, but there be three of us here and armed at that, so do as I say. You will go into the wardrobe and dress and pack some things for yourself."

Pack? These men planned to take her someplace. Where and for what possible purpose?

Her mind frantically a.s.sessed her danger. How had they gotten into this house with its surrounding wall?

Where was Sieg?

"Do you understand? Don't raise your hands to the gag."

She dumbly nodded. The hands fell off her one by one and the talking man eased away. Shaking with terror, she slid out of the bed, grateful that she had not lit a candle and that these men could not see her naked body very well in the moonlight.

She staggered on wobbly legs to the wardrobe, trying to control the panic that threatened to cloud her mind of all reason and sense. Despite their warnings, she wanted to run and run and let the terror consume her as she did. She rashly decided that in the blackness of the wardrobe she would remove the gag and scream for help.

Upon entering, she saw the door to the garden open. Enough light seeped through to make the lines of her shadow visible and her actions obvious.

They watched as she fumbled for a loose gown and pulled it on. One of the men found a small traveling trunk, and she stuffed clothing into it, not knowing what she grabbed. Thrusting her feet into shoes, she turned to them. She tried to remain calm although the deathly panic still wanted to unhinge her. Her only hope was to keep her wits about her. If Sieg still lived, he would save her when they tried to leave. She would make as much noise as possible on the courtyard stones in hopes of awakening him and the others.

"Now we will walk down those steps out there and go to the back of the garden," the man said. Her heart sank. They had come in over the wall, not through the gate. Sieg slept unknowingly in the front building. He and the others would never hear.

They surrounded her like a prisoner being moved and guided her down the stairs and out the gate to the main garden. At the back wall two of them disappeared up a crude ladder.

"Now you. There's another on the other side. Take care, my lady. The drop could hurt you," the Scot said.

She tottered up, turned her body blindly, and felt for the wooden slats on the other side. Hands plucked her off halfway down and set her on the ground. They walked up the alley to where horses waited. Someone tied her hands before lifting her onto a saddle. Being bound made her feel even more helpless. They trailed out through the city lanes, towing her along.

She watched the streets anxiously, hoping to see the flames of torches that indicated other night travelers or the ward constable. If they were stopped, would the constable notice her gag? Would these men use their steel if they were challenged?

No challenge came. Her fear grew as she noted their approach to the city's gate. To her anguished dismay, the gate guard let them pa.s.s.

The lead man continued straight ahead after they pa.s.sed through the wall. She straightened in shock. They headed for the northern road.

North. Northumberland. Stephen?

The Percy family held lands in Scotland and on England's border in Northumberland. Was this Scot one of their retainers?

Stephen abducting her? Now? It would be madness. Nay, not Stephen. Unless his pride had been wounded because he had lost his game to a mercer. During tournaments, Stephen had never been especially gracious in defeat. And if not Stephen, then who? She could think of no other possibility. As they rode silently through the night, she. told herself that Stephen would never do something so absurd, but a part of her worried that in fact he might. He might even consider it chivalrous and romantic and a grand gesture of salvation.

Duels and abductions are the stuff of songs, not life. Unless you were dealing with some childish girl and a foolish knight. Stephen, she suspected, could be very foolish.

He had seemed in the end to accept her refusal at that dinner. Had he later reconsidered her resolve?

Had his conceit led him to conclude that she fought him against her heart's true desire?

Dear saints. David would kill them both.

Her misgivings flared when, some miles north of London, she spied shadows on the road ahead. Her small group approached two other figures on horses and stopped.

"You made quick work of it," a woman's voice said.

Christiana's eyes widened and she peered in the dark toward the hooded cloak. She knew this voice. This was Stephen's doing. And once again he had enlisted Lady Catherine's help. Catherine's arm stretched out. "Here is the coin you will need. Do it exactly as I told you, and do not delay. The man will pay you your fee. And remember, she is not to be harmed."

Christiana made a loud sound from behind her gag. Lady Catherine turned toward her. "You want to speak, child? Remove her gag."

Dirty fingers pried the wadded cloth out of her mouth. She gasped deep breaths of air before speaking.

"Where do you take me?" she demanded.

"You will find out soon enough."

"If you abduct me for ransom, tell me now. Name your price and return me home. I will pay it."

"A generous offer, but there will be no ransom," Catherine said.

"Then why? Who bids you do this? Stephen Percy?"

Catherine laughed lightly. "All will be explained in good time, my dear. In the end you will thank me for this."

Did Catherine a.s.sume, like so many others at court, that she must welcome redemption in Stephen's arms?

"My husband will kill you for this," she hissed toward the men who waited. She realized that it was the first time she had claimed David's protection instead of Morvan's. But David would kill them. The thing about property was that one didn't like it stolen.

"By the time he finds you, it may not matter so much to him," Catherine said. "He will have bigger concerns. Take her now, and remember that she is not to be molested or handled. Do not try to run away, Christiana, for they have their orders to deliver you and will tie you to the horse if they have to."

"This is madnessa"" she began to protest, but the gag suddenly filled her mouth again and she choked on the words.

Lady Catherine and her silent companion turned south while her captors tugged the reins and started north. Christiana held the front of the saddle with bound hands and swayed into the animal's quicker walk.

North. Of all of the times for Stephen Percy to finally decide to live out some chanson!

Didn't he remember that violent deaths and jealous murders often ended those long love songs?

Chapter 18.

David let his father's blood flow. He unblocked it from the recesses and fissures in which he kept it dammed and controlled. He permitted all of its dark strength to wash through him. Sieg walked beside him as he rode across the courtyard. He looked down on the Swede's furrowed brow. Sieg blamed his own negligence for Christiana's disappearance and would not rest contented until he had helped bring her back. David would welcome his friend's help in the end, but not right now.

"The swords, Sieg. Don't forget to pack them," he said. Sieg nodded and David pa.s.sed to the gate. It was possible that he wouldn't need the preparations that he was leaving Sieg to make. Possibly he would find her elsewhere. He doubted it, however. Still, he would have to check. He paused and looked back at the buildings where he had lived his youth and manhood. If things turned out as he expected, he would never see this home again.

His father's blood didn't give a d.a.m.n. He smiled thinly. Nay, no sentiment there. Not when faced with a quest or a goal. Or revenge.

He had known for years that it was in him and what it could do. As a youth he had examined his face and soul to know what came from the Abyndons and what came from the other side. He had tried to reconstruct the image of his absent father from the disconnected pieces that bore no Abyndon legacy. The love of beauty. The emotional restraint. The dark calculations. The ability to kill. Even Gilbert's self-righteous cruelty could not match his own inclinations to cold ruthlessness. That in particular had always been in him, a strength to be used and a weakness to be feared, and it went far beyond the shrewd a.n.a.lysis taught as part of a mercer's trade. His mother's blood had tempered it some, but the real lessons in controlling it had been David Constantyn's greatest gift to him. It had been his father's half that had hurt Christiana.

He would check London and Westminster first, just to be sure.

A short while later he rode into the courtyard of Gilbert de Abyndon's house for the first time in his life. A groom approached for his horse but he ignored the man and tied the reins to a post. The household sat to dinner when he entered the hall. He had planned it this way. He did not want Margaret to have to confront her husband's wrath if he came when Gilbert wasn't home, and he wanted plenty of people around so that maybe he wouldn't smash his fist into Gilbert's face when his uncle insulted him, as the man was sure to do.

Gilbert looked up from his conversation as David approached his table, and one would have thought that the man had seen an apparition, so complete was his shock. Margaret visibly paled. David simply nodded acknowledgment of his uncle and turned his attention to Margaret.

"I am seeking Christiana, Margaret."

She frowned. "Seeking?"

"She has left the house."

"She is better then?"

So Christiana had not confided in her new friend. "Aye. But she is two days gone, Margaret. Did she come to you?"

Realization took hold, but Margaret hid it from her expression. Gilbert proved less discreet.

"So your n.o.ble wife has left you so soon?" he jeered softly.

"Is she here, Margaret?"

She shook her head.

"You have never known your place, boy," Gilbert snarled. "The conceit of marrying such a woman! Of course she is gone. It is a wonder she stayed this long."

David managed to ignore him. "Do you know where she is, Margaret?"

Poor Margaret shook her head again. Distressed eyes flickered up to his. Her hand rested protectively on her slightly swelled belly.

Gilbert laughed. "It is a pleasure to see great pride humbled. Such are the wages of that sin. Look you to the beds in the castles of the realm for her, nephew. Those women have no morals."

His hand shot out and he grabbed his uncle by the neck. Gilbert cried out and fell back in his chair. David let his arm and hand follow until he had the man pinned against the wooden back. The hall fell silent and a dozen pairs of eyes watched.

"You will say no more, Uncle, or I will release your young wife from the misery of this marriage," he said. "Now, you will permit Margaret to accompany me to the door and you will not follow. Do you agree to this?"

Gilbert glared at him. David squeezed. Gilbert nodded.

Margaret eased off her bench and came around the table. David dropped his hand.

"I am sorry," he said as they walked across the hall. "There was nothing for it but to come here."

"I understand. Do not worry. He will sputter for a few days and speak ill of you to all he meets, but that is nothing new, is it?"

David paused at the door. "Did she ever speak of Sir Stephen Percy to you?"

Margaret's surprise and shock were genuine. "Nay, David. She spoke of no man to me except you and her brother. Even when she described a humorous event at court, the players had no significance."

He nodded and turned to go. "Be well, Margaret."

She stopped him, and stepped out into the courtyard so that she could speak privately. "Why do you ask me about this man, David? Do you think Christiana has run away?"

"It is possible."

"With this man?" She looked at him incredulously. "I always thought that you were the exception to the rule that men were fools, David. If she held another in her heart, then I did not know her at all. She spoke only of you, and with warmth and affection and respect. If she is gone, it is not of her will, I am sure."

She frowned with distress. "She is in danger, isn't she? Oh dear G.o.da"

"I do not think that she is in danger," he said soothingly. "Go back to your husband now. Tell him that I would not let you leave me until you answered my questions."

"You must find hera"

"I will find her."