Page 66 of While Angels Slept
“I am receptive,” she whispered.
He lifted his eyebrows. “Enough to give up the sword to become my wife? I do not want to marry a woman who can out maneuver me in battle or best me in a fight.”
She giggled. “I promise that I shall lay my sword down if I am your wife. Unless, of course, you ever have need of me.”
His eyes glittered as his gaze drifted over her forehead, her eyes, theshape of her lovely face. “I will have need of you,” he whispered as his face loomed closer. “But not in that fashion.”
His lips claimed hers, a sweeter kiss neither of them had ever known. He suckled her lips, tasting her for the first time, thinking he’d been a fool not to have done it sooner. The gentle kiss turned passionate and, instinctively, he moved to put his arms around her and pull her close but she yelped in pain as he tried. Startled, horrified, he backed off.
“I am so sorry,” he whispered. “I did not mean to hurt you.”
She laughed it off, her lips red and moist from his attention. “Not to worry,” she assured him. “It is of little consequence considering I have been waiting for weeks for you to kiss me as you just did.”
His grin returned, as did his hands to her face. “Why did you not tell me this?”
It was her turn to look horrified. “And risk your rejection, or worse? You would have thought me to be a horribly forward creature.”
“I would have thought you to have given me an invitation of a lifetime.”
She giggled and he kissed her again, being very mindful of her injuries. But he had duties to attend to, much as he was reluctant to leave her. Only when Val swore she would not leave the bed and would wait impatiently for his return did he force himself away from her. Heart racing and limbs tingling, he quit the knight’s quarters.
Tevin wondered why Myles had such a huge grin on his face when he saw him crossing the bailey a few minutes later. Realizing he had just come from the knight’s quarters, he began to suspect why.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The day hadbeen long and tense, bouts of fear coming in waves as the sun traveled the sky. Sometimes, Cantia was quite calm, but other times, she was in tears of terror. Yet none of those feelings were particularly productive. As Cantia sat in her prison along with Hunt and Arabel, she truly wondered what was to become of them.
The camp had been active all day. At least, what she could hear from inside her dark and smelly prison made the place appear very active. Sounds of people were all around her, shouting, working, doing what they needed to do in order to survive. After Gillywiss had left them, no one had bothered them except for a woman who had come to bring them food. She brought them a rather large fare of small apples, pears, three roasted rabbits, and two large loaves of dark bread. Cantia and the children had eaten until they nearly burst.
With bellies full, they were able to think more clearly. Arabel still seemed to be feeling poorly, having slept all morning and into the afternoon, and Cantia was very concerned for the girl. There was a hole dug in the ground in one corner of the hut that they quickly discovered was the chamber pot because it smelled up the entire room. Cantia had helped the girl use it, once, as Hunt sat at the other end of the hut and faced the wall to afford Arabel some privacy.
Arabel had been embarrassed that she required such assistance but there wasn’t much she could do about it, so she thanked Cantia profusely for her kindness and swore she’d be as little trouble as possible. Cantia had merely smiled and touched the girl’s cheek affectionately. As a mother, it was in her nature to be helpful to a child and she truly didn’t mind. Every time she looked into that beautiful face, she saw Tevin. She was happy to do what she could.
The dusk settled cool and dark, and as the moon began to rise, silver shadows were cast upon the land. Owls hooted and other creatures of the night rooted around for their supper as Cantia sat on the ground next to Hunt, her arms around the boy as the hut grew very cold and dark. As she rocked Hunt, attempting to lull him to sleep, the door to the hut jerked open.
Startled, Cantia stopped rocking her child as Gillywiss entered the chamber and pulled the door shut behind him. He had a fish oil lamp in his hand, a bowl of liquefied fat with a floating wick that gave off a significant amount of smoke and light. His dark eyes found her in the dim hut and, as she had seen earlier in the day, he flashed her a rather crazed expression complete with big toothy smile.
“My lady,” he greeted. “And how are you faring on this beautiful night?”
Cantia was in no mood for his jovial attitude. “Cold,” she said flatly. “It is cold and dark in here.”
He looked around as if just noticing the darkness. “So it is,” he said, finding more interest in her bags over by the wall. “Do you not have something warm to wear?”
Cantia watched him set the lamp down and pull open a satchel. “We need a fire,” she said. “The children need warmth that cannot be provided by clothing.”
Gillywiss was back to digging around in her bags, pulling forth the garments he had so carefully replaced earlier in the day. As Cantia watched, the man began pulling them on again, inspecting the fine fabric, running his fingers over the delicate stitching. It was the second time that day he had come to put on her clothes and rifle through her belongings, and Cantia was quite curious about his behavior. In moments like this, she could almost believe he was non-violent and rather sympathetic. In fact, she thought she might try to take advantage of his fascination for her wardrobe.
“My lord,” she said softly, “if you like the coats so much, I would happily exchange them for our freedom.”
Gillywiss looked up from the orange-colored surcoat he was presently inspecting. His dark eyes were curious on her, perhaps even interested, but before he could reply, Arabel spoke.
“My lord,” she said in her sweet, child-like voice. “I am the Lady Arabel du Reims. My father is Viscount Winterton. As Lady Cantia said, he will reward you greatly for delivering us to him, but I would like to offer you all that I have so that you may let us go. I… I have fifty gold crowns, some jewelry, a white goat and a black and white pony that I would give you if you will only let us go home. I promise I will have these things brought to you if you will… please, I just want to go home.”
The last words were spoken in tears. Cantia went to the girl to comfort her, pulling her up into her arms and rocking her gently. Arabel was so tiny that it was like holding Hunt on her lap, and Cantia soothed the girl softly.
Gillywiss was watching the exchange carefully. He wasn’t very adept at hiding his feelings so he looked away, back to the satchel, and began to pull out more belongings. He could hear Arabel weeping and Cantia’s soft words, and it fed both his guilt and his irritation. As his rummaging began to grow more agitated in motion, he began to realize there was someone beside him. He turned to see Hunt’s big blue eyes gazing up at him.
“Do you have a boy?” the child asked.
