Chapter 15 #2
Ilsabeth hushed. She was hungry, too. She had missed Simon, missed the way his big, warm body curled around her as they slept.
Most of all she had missed the way he made her feel safe.
She was desperate to feel safe, even if only for the time she was in his arms. Safe and warm, she thought, even as she lost herself in his kiss.
It took only a kiss to cause their passion for each other to run wild.
Simon was starved for her, but part of what had him so desperate to bury himself deep inside her was his fear for her, a fear that had been eating at him from the moment he had been told that Walter had taken her.
Suddenly, his house was empty, his bed was empty, and, he realized, a large part of him was also empty without her.
When he finally thrust inside her, he stilled, savoring the heat of her and a deep sense of belonging. “Simon?”
“It feels so good,” he whispered. “Aye, it does.”
Ilsabeth did not know how long she could wait for Simon to give her what her body was crying out for, however.
It moved her that he found the way their bodies joined together so perfectly, the way that joining brought them close in so many ways, something to savor.
Any other time she would savor it, too, be pleased with sharing a time that was both sensual and peaceful.
This time she needed more; she needed fire and rough passion.
“I think today it might feel a wee bit better if ye moved,” she finally said.
Simon looked down at her and grinned as he slowly pulled back until he was nearly free of her body and then ever so slowly pushed back in as deep as he could go. “Like that?”
Ilsabeth looked at that grin and narrowed her eyes.
Then she smiled and dragged her fingernails down his back, no longer afraid that she would hurt him.
The first time she had done it in a moment of heightened passion he had shuddered as he did now and she had quickly apologized.
Simon had explained to her that he needed the rougher touch, that the damage done by the whip Henry had so viciously wielded had made it difficult for him to feel a soft caress.
Now she took full advantage of the fact that he found her scratching his back intoxicating, relishing the fact that he felt anything at all.
She did it once more and finally received the hard loving she needed.
They raced toward that bliss she craved as one, and when he joined her in that release from a blinding need, their voices blending as they cried out from the force of it, she prayed she would soon be free to enjoy this as she had before Walter had dragged her away to this dark place.
Appreciating how long he held her close after their lovemaking, Ilsabeth made no complaint when he finally straightened their clothes and tugged her to her feet. “Time to go, aye?” she asked as he brushed a kiss over her mouth.
“Aye,” he replied. “Soon, Ilsabeth. I will have ye free of this place soon.”
He kissed her again and started toward the door, hesitating and sending her a tortured look when he realized he would have to lock her in.
Ilsabeth walked over, pushed him out of her prison, and closed the door.
He had to stop the men planning to kill the king and, in truth, with Henry still running free, she knew she was safer right where she was.
“Lock it, Simon,” she said. “I ken ye will solve this trouble soon and that my stay here will be a short one.” She leaned against the door as he locked it and then smiled at him.
“And, I was just thinking that Henry cannae reach me here.” The expression that crossed his face and the way his eyes narrowed told her that that might not have been the wisest thing she had ever said.
Simon locked the door and looked at her.
“What else did Henry threaten ye with?” When she just shrugged and tried to step back, he caught hold of her hand and pulled her closer, only the bars separating them.
“Ye cannae slip back and hide away, nay with these fine new doors the king had put on these cells. Do ye ken why he had them built? Too many guards were hurt by the prisoners because they couldnae get a good look inside there before they had to step inside. E’en the prisoners who were chained could prove dangerous.
The king decided the guards needed to see the whole of the inside.
So, I can easily see that ye are hiding something no matter where ye stand in there.
Tell me, what else did my brother threaten ye with? ”
“It will only make ye angry and there is naught ye can do about it anyway.”
“Ilsabeth, I can stand here waiting for a verra long time.”
“Aye, I suspicion ye can,” she muttered and sighed. “He thinks I can give him a son.”
She winced as his grip on her hand tightened.
Ilsabeth could see his fury tighten his face and darken his eyes.
A part of her was very pleased by this sign of possessiveness, maybe even jealousy, but she knew it was a waste of their time.
Henry could not reach her in this prison; he could only threaten her.
Simon needed to use his anger and need to protect to capture his brother and put an end to the man’s evil games.
The expression on Simon’s face told her that it was not going to be easy to get him to ignore Henry’s talk.
Simon took a deep breath and let it out slowly, easing the grip he had on Ilsabeth as well.
For a moment all he had been able to think about was killing Henry.
He had had to fight the urge to run right out into the town and try to find his mad brother and end his life.
That would solve nothing. Planning was needed if he was to catch a villain as wiley and brutal as Henry and he could only plan well with his head clear.
He had to wonder if Henry had said such a thing knowing Ilsabeth would tell him.
It would be the sort of thing Henry would do.
It did not mean that Henry had lied, however.
Ilsabeth would be the sort of woman Henry would want to take and, if the man had seen her strength and wit, he just might believe she was the type of woman who could give him a son.
“He will never touch ye,” he said.
Simon’s voice was hoarse and deep and Ilsabeth knew anger had a strong grip on him.
“He cannae reach me here, Simon. I am safe and now the children are, too. Wheesht, ye are the only one still in danger. Henry hates ye, Simon. He said it was because of the way ye used to watch him with his own eyes, judging him. Henry doesnae think anyone has the right to judge him.”
Just as she had hoped it would, telling Simon why Henry claimed to hate him had tugged at that curious part of his mind enough to pull him free of the tight grip his anger had on him.
The anger was still there, but it could now prove more of a strength than a weakness.
Ilsabeth realized that she needed Henry gone for more reasons than his threat against the king, against her and her loved ones.
She needed him dead so that Simon could shake free of the past, of all that pain that roused such fury inside him whenever Henry drew too near.
“If I watched him too much it was just to ken when it was time to run or when to get my brothers out of Henry’s way.
” Simon shook his head. “And a mon needs a guilty conscience to fret o’er being judged for who he is or what he has done.
I wouldnae have believed Henry could feel guilty about anything he has done. ”
“The mon is mad, Simon. The mad probably only make sense to themselves at times.” She reached through the bars to stroke his cheek. “Get him, Simon, and worry o’er why he is what he is, later. Stop him now.”
He kissed her palm, released her hand and left, searching out the guard.
The anger that had swept over him when Ilsabeth had told him what Henry had said was leashed now, but not gone.
Simon knew he had to stop allowing what Henry did or said to enrage him so.
That rage came from old wounds, from the fact that Henry was the one responsible for Simon’s loss of a true family, for the man had driven away everyone close to them, or killed them.
It was time to pull free of that past and deal with the traitorous game Henry played now.
The guard was quick to understand the threat posed by the ability of men to come and go from the bowels of the keep unnoticed and unguarded.
In a short time there were guards, soldiers, and some of Simon’s men searching every prison cell, every wall, and every twist and turn of the labyrinth below the keep.
Simon worked with Gowan, planning a way to set a trap for Henry and Walter once they found the way the men were secretly slipping inside.
Ilsabeth watched the men searching and waited patiently for a cry of discovery.
When it came she breathed a sigh of relief.
There would be no more visits from Henry.
She knew it was important for the safety of the king, but that did little to dim the pure selfishness of her relief. Henry terrified her.
She smiled when Simon appeared at her cell door. “Ye found it.”
“Aye, and ‘tis because of ye that we e’en kenned a need to look,” he said. “ ‘Tis an old bolt-hole. It was sealed and they did their best to make it look as if it still was. It was Gowan who felt the slight movement of air where there should have been none. We are setting a trap now.”
“Ye think they will come back?”
He heard the fear in her voice and reached through the bars to take her hands in his. “Aye. Once my head cleared of my anger at Henry, I recalled that Walter also had a reason to see ye here. He still wants ye to run to France, aye?”
Ilsabeth grimaced and felt herself blush. “Aye. I confess, Simon; I angered both men with my sharp tongue. I dinnae think Walter kens Henry’s plans for me, either.”