Montague - The Warlord Part 4

"I did not say I was overjoyed. My intent was to become a nun, if you will recall. But I have accepted that my king wishes a different life for me, and I will take your advice and make the best of our marriage."

"My relief knows no bounds, Lady." Kenric had the audacity to smile at her indignant expression. He reached over to take her goblet then, and pushed the tray toward the tent flap. "You've had two full goblets of wine, Tess. 'Tis a long ride tomorrow, made no better by too much wine the night before. Best we find what rest we can before dawn."

He noticed that Tess watched his mouth very closely, as if she had trouble concentrating on their conversation.

"Will we reach Montague soon?" she asked.

"Tomorrow. Around dusk."

"A warm bed will feel good." Tess smiled as she settled into the furs.

A warm bed will feel good.

Kenric gritted his teeth. The words echoed again and again in his head until he could think of nothing else. He glared across the tent, watching Tess turn to arrange her bed of furs just so before settling under her cloak.

"Good eve, Baron." Tess ended the statement with a yawn, her shivers visible under the bulky cloak.

Kenric didn't reply. He extinguished the candle, and listened to the quiet noises Tess made as she shifted restlessly. It wasn't long before her teeth began to chatter.

Kenric lifted her cloak and slid down next to her on the bed of furs. The extra weight of his fur-lined cloak fell on top of them. She released a long, satisfied sigh and snuggled up closer to his warmth.

"Hold still," he growled, his hands pushing her hips away.

Tess obliged. "I would like to thank you, husband," she said shyly.

"For what?" Kenric asked needlessly, knowing he would be thanked for leaving her precious virginity intact.

"For taking me away from the MacLeiths," she said quietly. "For making me feel safe. You've been kind to me, even though I've brought little to this marriage other than the makings of a war. The MacLeiths will try to get me back, you know."

Kenric's sigh nearly parted her hair. "You no longer have any need to fear the MacLeiths, Tess. They will never touch you again. Now go to sleep."

She remained silent almost an entire minute.

"Milord?"

"What?"

The irritation in his voice must have changed her mind.

"Urn, well, nothing. It was nothing at all."

Kenric grunted and several quiet minutes pa.s.sed while Tess squirmed restlessly. She turned to her side, then onto her stomach, then rolled over to her side again, always keeping Kenric's arm as a pillow. His arm slid away so quickly that she couldn't react fast enough to prevent her head from thumping right through the fur onto the frozen ground.

"You will say what you have to say then you will go to sleep. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, well, uh..."

"Say it!"

"You forgot to kiss me after the wedding ceremony! I guess 'tis not required, but I thought it was, and I was rather looking forward to... well, it would have been my first kiss, even though you did kiss my forehead. I just didn't-"

She fell silent the moment Kenric's hand gripped her chin. His fingers covered one cheek, his thumb stretched high across the other. She was struck again by how very large he was, yet how very gentle he could be. His warm breath caressed her face and she knew he was close. An eternity seemed to pa.s.s before his lips touched hers in a kiss so tender, so exquisite, her eyes opened wide in surprise. She never would have guessed there was anything soft on this fierce warlord. He seemed to be hard all over. But his lips were incredibly soft as they moved across her own.

Kenric meant to give Tess her bride's kiss, then order her to sleep. The sweet taste of her mouth and her enthusiastic response made him crave just a bit more. She was a fast learner, quickly imitating his actions and pressing her mouth a little harder against his lips each time he thought to raise his head. It was an easy matter to open her mouth, deepening the kiss, but he was nearly undone by her low moan. Kenric couldn't resist. He used his tongue to taste her, and his loins reacted instantly to the erotic action. She didn't even try to close her mouth against the a.s.sault. She waited until he'd stroked every part of her mouth then practiced what he'd just taught her, shyly at first, but just as thoroughly.

Tess's kiss was as heady and exotic as the finest wine. Kenric's senses reeled, overcome by the wild, fierce need to possess her mouth completely. He traced the outline of her lips, then nibbled them greedily, surprised yet pleased when she did the same. He was still leaning down, one hand bracing his weight, when he became aware of Tess's hands sliding up his chest. They rested there a moment and he waited to be pushed away. This kiss had gone far beyond anything a bride would receive at her wedding. His mouth became almost frantic in a quest to enjoy as much of her sweetness as possible before she pushed him away. The slightest pressure and he would release her. He swore he would.

The grip on the front of his shirt tightened and he reluctantly lifted his head. Instead of pushing him away, Tess used all her strength to pull him back to her mouth with a whimper. Kenric couldn't have been more stunned if he'd been slapped. A primitive sound emerged from his chest, and he kissed Tess as he'd never kissed a woman in his life, unable to get close enough or to taste enough of her. Yet a thin shred of sanity remained and he forced his hands to stray no lower than her neck. The sensations of touching Tess, the soft warmth of her skin, the smooth contours of her face, the silkiness of her hair, all kept him satisfied for a time. Far too short a time.

He broke away so suddenly that she didn't have a chance to catch his lips before they were gone. "You've had your kiss. Now go to sleep."

Tess lay perfectly still, then she rolled to her side and buried her face in the furs. Kenric heard her quiet sobs, knew his harsh words had hurt her feelings.

Why did he feel like comforting her?

That idea was out of the question. He was more determined than ever to wait. He'd made a vow. He was a warrior, accustomed to hardship and discomfort. One night to wait for pleasure was nothing. He wanted to savor Tess in the warmth of his bed, to see her shiver with desire instead of shivering from the cold. Aye, she would thank him one day when she understood the reasons. One day soon.

"You did not like my kiss," she accused between sobs.

He rolled his eyes and sighed, certain she was intent on making him crazed. "I liked it."

"Hah!"

"You are my bride," he said, pulling her stiff body against his chest. "I do not wish to make you my wife in this tent. You will remain a bride until we reach Montague and the warm bed you look forward to so much. Do you understand what I am saying, Tess? Your kisses please me greatly, but they make me want more. Much more."

She was silent, but he felt her body begin to relax.

"I liked kissing you, too," she said shyly.

"I could tell." He stroked her hair, trying to ignore the ache in his loins and the temptation to let his hands roam where they would. "Now go to sleep. We've a hard ride tomorrow and I need to rest."

She wriggled closer and sighed, a long, satisfied sound. Kenric smiled in the dark, amused by his wife's quick mood changes. She was so open and honest with her emotions, a delight to a man raised among the wiles and intrigues of courtiers. That was the reason he was so considerate of her feelings, Kenric decided. She was one of the few women who stirred his protective instinct. Tess was dependent upon him, completely trusting of the security he provided.

Aye, he would give her another day to know him better, to realize what a n.o.ble husband he was and how considerate he was being. He closed his eyes, feeling close to that sainthood he'd claimed.

Tess awoke feeling close to death. Stiff and sore, she turned to discover Kenric was gone, relieved that he wouldn't see her in this condition. The cold ground had done its job on sore muscles during the night, and she tried twice before she could stand upright in anything less than excruciating agony. But the cold ground was not the real cause of her pain.

Nearly a fortnight had pa.s.sed since Gordon MacLeith's last visit to Langston, but the marks of his latest beating were taking longer than usual to heal. And rightly so. She'd received her worst lashing yet for the insults she'd hurled at him that day. Luckily, she'd been wearing her thickest wool dress, else he'd have marked her for life. She said another prayer of thanks that Gordon carried a slim riding crop rather than a true whip that would be capable of slicing through any gown. As it was, he'd only drawn blood on a few lashes, and those not too deep. The long ride had done little to help the healing process, but in another fortnight or so the welts would fade. Though she'd left her sickbed only a week before her escape, she was growing accustomed to the dull pain, aware that it faded some each day.

She wondered if she could escape her husband before he discovered her injuries. He'd tasted enough of her temper to know she'd courted the beating. Not that she'd accused Gordon of anything but the truth. The man was a catamite and everyone in the MacLeith clan knew of his preference for males in his bed. She was just the first to accuse Gordon to his face. And in front of his soldiers, no less. Aye, she'd asked for the beating. But how could she have known she'd have a husband so soon? A husband sure to see her naked sooner or later. She had to figure out a way to make it later. Much later.

" 'Tis time to ride," Kenric announced.

Tess nearly jumped out of her skin. Her husband was standing right behind her.

"I did not intend to startle you," he said in a quieter voice. "Didn't you hear me enter?"

"Shadows have been known to make more noise, milord." She turned to face Kenric, feeling recovered from the surprise. The sight of him made her rethink that notion. Why, he'd grown quite handsome over the night! She stared openly at his face, wondering how she'd ever thought him akin to the Devil. The color of his eyes was much too soft for a Devil, the chiseled lines of his face far too pleasing. His bemused smile was heavenly.

"Is something wrong?"

"Wrong?" she repeated dumbly.

"You've a most peculiar look on your face."

"Oh." Tess made herself look away from the tall warlord, a difficult task since he took up so much of the tent. She stumbled for a quick explanation. "Perhaps I always look peculiar in the morning."

Tess groaned inwardly as soon as the words left her mouth. Perhaps I am the most dull-witted woman alive, she added to herself.

"I hope so." Kenric grinned. "That look somehow reminds me of the lie you told Father Olwen."

"I believe I am ready to depart," Tess announced in a clipped voice, a blatant attempt to change the subject.

Kenric picked up Tess's cloak and draped it around her shoulders, missing her wince of pain. He pulled the hood up to protect her from the cold. " 'Tis colder today. Let us hope we don't get snowed on before we sight Montague."

Kenric hoped in vain. The snow started less than an hour into their journey. Fluffy white flakes drifted in lazy circles from the sky before the winds picked up and the soft flakes turned into hard, driven pellets. Tess was covered under two warm layers of cloaks but she worried for Kenric and his men. The soldiers donned fur caps and those who owned them wore gloves, but they were surely miserable. She was the best protected yet she seemed plagued by chills that set her teeth to chattering, only to become warm, almost hot, each time the bout of chills pa.s.sed.

A fever, she finally realized with a shudder. Please G.o.d, let it be a mild one, she prayed. Fevers were feared by rich and poor alike. Though most were not fatal, one could never tell until it was too late. She slipped her arms around Kenric's waist and decided G.o.d would not be so cruel.

Kenric shifted Tess in his arms, feeling much like a well-used bed. He couldn't blame her for using sleep to escape the dull ride and harsh weather, but as the day grew longer, he began to wonder how anyone could sleep so much. At least she'd be well rested, he thought with a grin. She would need her strength for the evening he had planned.

The weather broke near noon and Kenric was relieved to discover the snow had scarcely touched the road ahead. They made good time in the afternoon and were within sight of his castle when the dying sun broke through the lingering gray clouds.

Kenric drew his cloak back and spoke softly in Tess's ear. "You are home, wife."

4.

Castle Montague rose dark and forbidding against the fading twilight, an uninviting place made gloomier by scores of fire-charred trees. Their lifeless limbs rose from the snow like specters, silent guards standing on all sides of the ma.s.sive stone fortress. The bleak sight was enough to make Tess shiver.

" 'Tis little better on the inside," Kenric warned. "Best prepare for the worst, then perhaps it will not seem so bad."

"What happened to the trees?" she asked, deciding to ignore the warning. No need to let her imagination run wild, wondering what the "worst" might be inside the Butcher of Wales's fortress. She'd find out soon enough.

"I had them burned. They would provide too much shelter should an army lay siege to the castle."

Tess nodded then glanced around his shoulder. His soldiers rode forward silently, their faces grim. Odd, she thought, pondering this strange reaction. MacLeith's men would be riding into the bailey amidst their own loud cheers if they'd kidnapped an heiress for their laird. Their solemn stares increased her dread.

The baron pulled his horse aside and allowed the men to file past him through the outer gates. She could feel the somber mood increase as they rode through the outer bailey of their bleak home. They pa.s.sed the inner gates without so much as a word of greeting called down from the walls. The baron's men were still mounted, lined up by rank on each side of the road that led from the inner gates to a set of ma.s.sive stone steps. The steps led to Montague's great hall. Not one servant was in evidence, a situation unheard of even in a small, poorly staffed keep, much less a sprawling castle the size of Montague. Tess was too curious about this strange reception to be insulted by the cold welcome to her new home. To be sure, Kenric's men acted as if they didn't expect to see a living soul within the walls.

Kenric rode up to the stone steps and dismounted, pulling Tess down to his side. Every pair of eyes followed their progress up the steps. Tess had never been the focus of so much attention. She was Baroness to these strangers, wife to their leader. Did they know Kenric didn't want her? Did they know they'd soon be going to war over her, risking their lives for an unwanted bride, a stranger, a murderess?

Her grip on Kenric's arm tightened, and he laid one hand over hers. The effect was immediate. She could almost feel his strength surrounding her, calming, giving her a burgeoning strength of her own. Just as she was thinking the gesture was unintentional on his part, that he couldn't know how frightened she was, Kenric leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Calm yourself, Tess. These steps lead to the great hall, not a sacrificial altar." He turned then to face his men, saving Tess the embarra.s.sment of a reply.

"I have taken Tess Remmington to wife," he began. His voice rang out through the courtyard, the deep sound reverberating off the stone walls. "All of you know the challenge laid down to Dunmore MacLeith when I made her my bride. As of the night 'ere last, Dunmore MacLeith is a trespa.s.ser on my land."

Tess glanced up at Kenric, then wished she hadn't. The look on her husband's face was frightening. He smiled, yes, but it was a smile that didn't reach his cold eyes.

"The MacLeiths will challenge this marriage, but I intend to take Remmington Castle and all her good English keeps from the Scottish squatters by any means necessary."

The men cheered at the end of that declaration. But they really weren't cheers, Tess decided. Nay, they were roars of battle cries. The sound was nearly deafening, making the feverish ache in her head even worse. The awful noise continued as Kenric drew her forward, unfastened her hood, and pulled the cloak from her shoulders. He placed his hands on her shoulders in a blatant display of ownership. Tess locked her knees so they wouldn't buckle beneath her.

"You will protect my lady's life with your own. The loyalty you owe me now extends to my wife."

Fitz Alan drew his long battlesword, an act followed by each man until the entire bailey glittered with swords, each lifted in a silent pledge of fealty. Tess thought she should say something, but found herself speechless for the first time in her life. The fiercest army in England had just given her their loyalty. Nay, Kenric gave her their loyalty. And she intended to betray them all.

"Come, Tess," Kenric said quietly, turning her toward the doors.

Tess tried not to dwell on the issue of allegiance as he led her inside, then up another set of stone steps to the hall. She focused all her attention on the strangeness of her new home. Inside the great hall, Montague was a mixture of wealth and squalor. The wealth was well evident. She found her eyes drawn to intricate carvings of faces, flowers, and miniature scenes on each end or crossing of the ma.s.sive rib beams that supported the structure. The windows were cased with gla.s.s in a myriad of colors and the casings were as intricately carved as the beams. Not one, but two ma.s.sive fireplaces flanked the hall, and well-vented ones at that. Each had its own chimney instead of a simple hole cut through the ceiling, as was the case at Langston Keep. Rich, colorful tapestries covered several walls, and Montague banners hung from the huge, round pillars supporting the roof.

Yet the squalor was just as apparent. Filthy, broken reeds littered the floor, their stench no doubt worsened by the remnants of more than one meal and the pack of hounds running loose through the hall. The dining tables, set up to form a U-shape in the middle of the room, were uncovered and fashioned of the crudest lumber. Long benches and simple stools were the only available seats.

Whatever hard times had befallen this hall, they were recent ones, she decided, completing her inventory of the place. If she had any intention of staying here, a good cleaning and a visit to the carpenter would have been the first order of business. Kenric's hall was in sore need of a lady to see to such things. A lady much like the one walking toward them.

The woman was dressed in the kind of finery Tess had only dreamed of in her days at Langston. Her gown was made of richly trimmed blue velvet embroidered with white stags. Sapphires sparkled at her throat and wrists. Waves of jet-black hair framed a delicate face with high, exotic cheekbones and eyes perfectly matched to her gown. She seemed a bit older than Tess, but perhaps that was because she walked with such stiff dignity. Her gaze narrowed with ill-concealed hate as she came to a halt before Kenric.

"Welcome home, brother." The woman's greeting was so cold, Tess expected icicles to form in the air.

"Good eve, Helen," Kenric responded curtly. He pulled Tess closer and introduced her to his sister.

"I am very pleased to meet you," Tess said sincerely. This woman could be an ally, someone who might be able to aid in her escape. She clasped Helen's hands and smiled at her sister-in-law, hoping to melt some of the ice in Helen's eyes. "I hope we shall become good friends."

Helen's composed expression faltered for a moment before the cool mask of indifference slipped back into place. She pulled her hands away and folded them at her waist.

"We shall see," she replied with a regal nod.

"My men are in need of food," Kenric told his sister, his face as disinterested as hers. "Make arrangements to serve a meal as soon as possible."

"The kitchen is ill prepared to serve a meal at this hour," Helen informed him. She turned and walked toward the kitchens, then called over her shoulder, "I shall see what is available."

Kenric's face didn't show any emotion. Tess was amazed by her husband's control. The MacLeiths would have bloodied Helen's lip the first time she uttered a word.

"Helen did not know you would arrive this eve?" she asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

"She knew."

Kenric's tone said the subject was closed. He took his position at the head table, then motioned for Tess to sit next to him. The servants finally appeared, each bearing flagons of wine and ale to the groups of men near the tables and fireplaces. Some of the men's faces were familiar from the courtyard, but many were present in the hall when they arrived. Montague's va.s.sals, Tess supposed, eyeing their rich, colorful clothes. These would be the knights who ruled at Montague's keeps or smaller fortresses. It wasn't unusual for them to gather at their lord's main fortress, although their ladies were conspicuous by their absence. Aside from some of the servants, Tess was the only woman in the hall.

Several men seemed eager for Kenric's audience and they soon had him deep in conversation. Though Tess tried to find something to do other than eavesdrop, the task was not easy. Helen had disappeared and Fitz Alan was talking to several men she didn't know. She didn't think it good manners to start a conversation with anyone she hadn't been properly introduced to.