Chapter Ten
Early August
He was lying in wait.
Ronan was in the stairwell that led to the upper floors where the family quarters were, but these days, only Isabeth slept up there and her maid, Gerta, when the old woman could make the stairs.
But over the past couple of months, that had been less and less and old Gerta tended to sleep on the floor below and send the younger maids upstairs to tend to her mistress’ needs.
But he knew the habits of the maids. He knew they only came when they were called and when they were sent to Isabeth’s chamber to clean it.
They had already done that during the morning hours.
Ronan had paid attention to the happenings in the manse even when he was going about his rounds, which on this day had been the monthly session of laws and measures.
That meant anyone from Ravenscar’s properties could come to the manse and plead their legal cases – sometimes it was farmers against farmers, sometimes a merchant against a thief, but it was one of the tasks that Dyce had carried out as the Lord of Ravenscar, something Ronan had stepped in to oversee because there was no one else to do it.
He’d taken to it easily.
The last two months, on the third Saturday of the month, Ronan had listened to cases and dispensed justice.
He had a fair sense of justice thanks to his father and grandfathers and wasn’t too heavy-handed when dispensing penalties.
A man who stole milk from an old woman’s goat to make cheese was sentenced to providing the old woman with cheese for an entire month.
A farmer who took a fancy to another farmer’s wandering dog was forced to give the owner two piglets in compensation as well as returning the dog.
In truth, Ronan was born to dispense justice because of his even temper and ability to see the situation from both sides.
More than that, he enjoyed it. He was sliding into Dyce’s role around Ravenscar quite easily, telling everyone that he was simply continuing the dead man’s duties for a sense of security and continuity for not only the man’s wife but for his vassals as well. He was simply being a good friend.
But that wasn’t entirely the truth.
Hence the reason why he was lying in wait in the stairwell.
Just as he knew the maids’ routine, he also knew Isabeth’s.
He knew every move she made. He knew she was down in the kitchens with Odo and the cook, supervising as they made enormous cauldrons of pea soup with carrots and onions.
The previous winter had been mild so there were now apricots and cherries, and she had also been assisting in the making of stewed fruits and preserves.
The fruits would be stripped of their skins and boiled with honey and spices, creating a delicious concoction that Ronan had most happily been spreading on his bread.
Isabeth had been very clever with how they preserved the food for storage.
But, then again, Isabeth was clever in general.
That was something Ronan had come to see over the past couple of months.
She was clever and bright, witty and charming, all things wonderful that had completely destroyed his restraint.
That oddly socially awkward woman didn’t seem to exist anymore.
He remembered the days when he first arrived at Ravenscar and the mere sight of Isabeth made something tug in his chest. That tug had turned into a full-blown yank, something that exposed his heart and soul in a way he never thought possible.
And all of it exposed to Isabeth.
But it wasn’t one-sided. Whatever he was feeling for her was catching because she felt it, too.
When she realized it, she spent two weeks avoiding him and sending him missives through Gerta asking him to leave, but he didn’t leave.
He remained, which probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but he felt more attraction to her than he’d ever felt for a woman in his life, something too strong to ignore.
Truth be told, he felt like a giddy squire with his first love because it was his first love.
He felt as if he were walking on clouds, every minute of every day.
As he sat in the window seat of the stairwell, looking from the tiny lancet window and seeing the sea beyond, he had to smile to himself.
Here he was, a man grown and mature, and experiencing love for the first time in his life.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t with his wife, but he’d quickly gotten over feeling guilty about that.
He’d never before broken his marriage vows to Marian even though she had broken them more times than he could count, but this… this was different.
This was love.
He heard footsteps.
Knowing it was Isabeth, he sank back against the seat, knowing she wouldn’t be able to see him from the direction she was coming. In fact, she walked right past him. As fast as lightning, he reached out and grabbed her from behind.
“I have been waiting here for an hour,” he purred into her ear as he pulled her onto his lap. “Hours seem like years when you are not in my arms, Esa.”
Esa.
He’d been calling her that for the past couple of weeks…
Eee-sa… drawing it out in a dulcet tones, seducing her with her own name and watching her expression as he broke down her resistance.
But he couldn’t see her face as she sat on his lap, weakly trying to pull away.
Still, he knew his whispered words were having an effect on her.
The woman turned to putty whether or not she wanted to.
“Roe,” she whispered, her hands on his arms as he embraced her tightly, nuzzling her neck. “Please… not now…”
He ignored her, suckling on her earlobe as he ran his hands over her swollen belly, now much more visible as she approached her fifth month of pregnancy.
But that belly was an aphrodisiac to him, a symbol of her womanly fertility that drove him mad with desire.
Suckling on her earlobe, on her neck, had the desired effect as she stopped resisting, collapsing against him as his hands began to lift her skirts.
When they were high enough, he snaked a hand underneath them, seeking the hidden jewel between her legs.
“Roe,” she gasped and squirmed. “Do not… oh, God…”
His big fingers found the fluff of curls and he began to probe her, pulling one leg over his thigh so he had unencumbered access.
One enormous arm moved up to clutch her around the chest, his hand finding a full breast, while the other did naughty things between her legs.
It was enough to bring her to a climax almost immediately and when she began to gasp with pleasure, he turned her enough so that his mouth could claim hers.
He kissed her deeply, feeling her honeyed walls contract around the fingers he had thrust into her.
She’d had her pleasure and now he wanted his.
Ronan had never wanted a woman so badly in his life.
He’d bedded Isabeth for the first time a week ago and now, it was every day, sometimes two or three times a day.
At night, he’d sneak into her chamber and take her once or twice before retreating back to the tiny knights’ quarters in the bailey.
So far, no one had gotten wise to it except for Christian, who was on to him.
But Christian was so thrilled that Ronan had finally found happiness that he didn’t say a word about it.
As far as he was concerned, Ronan could do whatever he pleased with the de Brito widow.
It was about time the man found some joy.
Removing his fingers and pulling her skirt down, Ronan picked her up and carried her the rest of the way up the stairs and on into her chamber.
Kicking the door shut with his boot, he bolted it before carrying her over to the bed.
Usually, Isabeth protested his lust, trying to tell him why their actions were so terrible.
Trying to reason with him when the truth was that neither one of them could control their passion towards one another.
Even now, he turned her onto her side and slid the surcoat off her body, tossing it and her shift onto the ground.
Quickly disrobing himself, as he was becoming quite adept at moving swiftly, he slid in behind her on the bed, wrapping his big arms around her.
Isabeth surrendered to the inevitable, eyes closed as his mouth moved to the tender nape of her neck, kissing her softly as his big arms hugged her tightly.
It wasn’t long before his hands moved to her belly again, feeling the gentle rise of it against his flesh.
He rubbed his hands over her stomach as his lips feasted on her neck.
Ronan was already so consumed by the woman that he could hardly think straight and he struggled not to let his excitement veer out of control. Even with his considerable power, he was extremely gentle with her.
He had been from the start.
“You are so beautiful,” he breathed, his mouth on her shoulder.
“Roe,” she whispered with her last shreds of common sense. “We shouldn’t…”
His touch grew bolder, cutting off her last murmurs of protest, which she really didn’t mean, anyway.
It was the propriety in her speaking, the moral high ground because of Ronan’s marriage, but that moral high ground had been sacrificed long ago to their true and growing feelings.
He lifted her left leg, enough so that he had unfettered access to the region between her legs again.
As he slanted his lips over hers, hungrily, he gently inserted a finger into her warm, wet folds.
Isabeth sighed with delight as his fingers stroked in and out of her a few times, mimicking the lovemaking they would soon be doing, and she gradually began to respond to him.
He inserted two fingers into her, and then three, listening to her gasp softly.
She was hot and slick and he knew that her body was ready to accept his.
The moment they’d both been waiting for.