Chapter Nineteen

Idyll

Talon

The cure to his curse, Talon

discovered, wasn’t to tame the wildcat, but simply to take her as

she was: wild and thorny and imperfectly perfect. A thing he found

as easy as breathing in the quiet peace of the Hollow. As for the

rest of the world, they’d deal with it when they returned to

Oloron. For now, Talon was happy to be with Lara in their own

little Eden that was the Hollow, a place he was exploring and

learning more about each day while walking about with the help of a

chestnut walking stick that had belonged to Sophie.

The cabin, Lara told him, had been

built as a hunting lodge by Count Gerhard, Nithard’s and Reginald’s

father. Neither of the brothers had been hunters, but Orlando,

captain of Reginald’s guard, had. He’d also been Sophie’s lover,

not, Lara admitted, her second husband. It was Orlando who’d first

brought Sophie to the Hollow. They’d come for a time every summer

for five summers, until Orlando died in battle and came home no

more.

It was to the Hollow that Sophie took

Lara as an infant, and where they’d stayed for the first year of

Lara’s life, from one autumn to the next. They’d spent a month here

every autumn since, as well as an odd month each summer or spring,

stocking and planting and tending the place until it was

self-renewing.

The sturdy cabin, built of good timber

to begin with, had been well maintained, making for a warm and

comfortable home. The barn, built to stable the mounts of a full

hunting party, were twice the size of the cabin, and almost as

airtight, its meadow thick with good grass. Talon had never seen

the Black so lazily content. Even Fulrad’s bay, whom Lara called

Shadow, was growing fatter and friendlier by the day.

An earthen aqueduct such as Talon had

seen in old Roman towns moved water from a year-round stream to the

orchard and the garden. There was a pond where Lara netted fish

that she cooked with wild, bitter greens that grew along the pond’s

edges, and the orchard was ripe with apple, plum, peach, and pear

trees, as well as a row of grapevines that separated the orchard

from the vegetable garden full of yellow and green squashes,

onions, garlic, and green-topped roots they’d been eating in

delicious stews.

A hedge of rosemary and lavender

bordered the garden on the other side, and vining mint and licorice

root grew along the stream from which Lara made a sweet-tasting tea

that calmed a person’s head and belly. She’d taught Wolf to leave

the covey of quail that lived in the meadow alone, guaranteeing

them a steady supply of eggs, along with the squirrel, rabbit, or

pheasant she trapped or Wolf caught.

Talon was sitting on the porch,

shelling a boiled egg after his afternoon nap, when Lara came out

of the woods beyond the meadow, carrying a basket full of something

heavy by the way she was moving, Shadow on her heels. Wolf loped

alongside them. Talon eased to his feet, intending to help her with

the basket, but she pointed a finger at him.

“Sit.”

Talon and Wolf both sat.

Lara laughed and set the basket down

at Talon’s feet. “There.” She nodded at the basket full of pieces

of ash, chestnut, and beech. “That should keep your backside down

and your hands busy.” She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled

out Talon’s carving knife. “There are thirty-two pieces of wood

here,” she said, handing him the knife. “By the time you’ve carved

them, I’ll have the top of an old table from the barn dyed like a

game board.”

“You want me to carve

pieces for a Shah game?”

She rubbed the dirt from her hands.

“It’ll give us something to do at night.”

“I can think of plenty of

things to do at night.” Talon gave her a leer that brought a rosy

pink to her cheeks. “But making a Shah game does sound intriguing.

I’ve never carved so many figures at one time.” He eyed the pieces

of wood, sizing them up in his mind. “It’ll take me two to three

days at least.”

Lara grinned, looking quite pleased

with herself. “Good.” She sauntered past him into the cabin, where

pots and pans were shuffled around.

“What’s for supper?” He

picked a long piece of blonde ash from the basket and turned it

about in his hand.

“Bee’s knees and butterfly

wings.” That was her answer when she didn’t yet know what she was

going to cook and he was already pestering her about it.

“Yum, my favorite.” He

settled back on the bench, put his knife to the ash, and made his

first cut, pleased with the color and grain. “Aye, this will do for

my white queen.”

He cut and carved and smoothed the

piece until his queen was just as he wanted her, with a mop of

short curls crowning her head and a body that flowed and curved

with the natural grain of the ash. He stood, stretched, then

hobbled into the cabin, where a bubbling cobbler sat on the kitchen

table.

“What kind?” He went over

and inhaled the delicious aroma.

“Blackberry. They grow

wild upstream.”

“Smells

delicious.”

“It’s my favorite.” She

gave a sad smile. “Sophie would bake one every year for my

birthday.”

“When is your

birthday?”

“October

thirty-first.”

“On All Hallows’

Eve?”

“Aye.”

Talon chuckled. “That explains a

lot.”

“Such as?” she said, brows

raised and arms akimbo.

“Such as how you’ve

managed to cast your spell over me, my lovely, lissome witch.” He

nibbled at her ear, and she gave him a playful slap. “And I’d have

it no other way.”

“You think me worth the

price after all?”

“I always thought you

worth the price.” He offered his scarred palm, touched the scar

above his eye, then laid his hand over his bandaged side. “And I’ve

always paid it. Have I not?” She smiled in answer, and another part

of their conversation her first day as his prisoner came to him.

“How can you be certain of your exact birth date if you were left a

swaddling babe at the abbey’s gate?”

Lara stared at him for a lengthy

moment. Then she took a deep breath, and her words came tumbling

out. “I wasn’t left at the abbey’s gates. I was born here, on the

thirty-first day of October in the year 755 with a full moon

rising. My mother died that same night and is buried in an unmarked

grave here in the Hollow.”

When he could speak again, all Talon

could say was, “Your mother?”

Lara nodded.

“Then you know who she

was? Her family name?”

“No.” Lara shook her head.

“My mother swore Sophie to a secrecy she never broke, not even to

me.”

***

Lara

Lara set the newly finished game table

next to the hearth, her fingertips stained a bluish purple from the

berries she’d used to color the dark squares. She pulled the

cabin’s two chairs over and took one as Talon pulled the game

pieces out of the basket and arranged them on the checkered board,

putting the king of blonde ash and the queen with the crown of

curls on his side, and the darker pieces on hers. She picked up a

horse head of stained beech and ran her fingers up and down the

proud arch of its neck, much as she had done her first night as

prisoner in Talon’s bedchamber at the keep only four months

ago.

She gazed at him over the crude wooden

board and pieces, so different from the glossy ivory and onyx

pieces back at the keep, and thought of how different everything

was now. She’d gone from freewoman to lidi to Hamm and back to

freewoman, from hating Captain Guiscard, her captor, to loving

Talon without really knowing when or how it happened, only that it

had. She’d lived a lifetime in the past four months, and except for

losing Sophie, she didn’t regret a thing. Especially when he

grinned at her like he was now.

“What?” she

said.

“You look like a queen who

just stole my king.”

“I, ah…” She picked up her

dark queen and ran her fingertip down the whorls of waist-length

hair that blended into her robe. “I was thinking if you ever quit

your wandering warrior ways, you’d make a good living as an

artist.”

Talon’s grin grew. “I’ve been thinking

the same thing. In fact, I had my eye on a tinker’s wagon at the

last market. Would’ve bought it too, if I hadn’t had to go after a

wildcat being chased by a pack of curs.”

“Lucky for her you did,

else it would’ve been her bones bleaching in the woods.”

He clasped her hand with the queen and

lifted it to his lips. “Lucky for me as well.” He dropped his voice

to a husky rumble. “Else who would I have to play with?”

Her entire body flushed at the tactile

memory of where his hands and mouth had been playing last night.

Then she remembered how he’d stiffened and grimaced when he’d

twisted his side during their bed play, and thought it best they

stick to playing Shah for now. She picked up a pawn and made her

first move.

“Ah.” Talon rubbed his

hands together and bent over the board. “The game

begins.”

They played for two days and nights

straight, stopping only to eat when they were hungry and to sleep

when they were tired. It was the third morning when Lara woke to

Talon roaming his touch the length of her body over her nightshift

that she knew the distraction of the board game had run its

course.

“Your wounds.”

“Are healing well, thanks

to my nursemaid.”

“But…”

He cupped her backside and pressed her

to the hard heat of him.

“You, Captain, are a

rutting rogue.”

His grin was pure male. “A rutting

rogue in dire need,” he rumbled. “A need only you can cure, my

lovely nursemaid.”

“Are you sure?” Lara

weakened…wanted. “Your bandages were only removed

yesterday.”

“Does this feel sure

enough?” He placed her hand over his full, hard erection beneath

his breechcloth.

A melting warmth spread through Lara.

“We’ll need to be very careful.”

“Ah, my beautiful, thorny,

troublesome temptress. All you need do is say yes and I’ll likely

come undone.”

His words filled her with a strange

and wonderous power. “Yes,” she murmured as she slowly straddled

his hips. “Yes,” she said, pulling her nightshift up over her head

and tossing it onto the floor. “Yes,” she growled, untying his

breechcloth. He lifted his hips as she stripped it off him, her

eyes growing wide as his unrestrained cock jumped free and kissed

her flesh. “Yes,” she purred, lowering herself over him, thrilling

at the hot, hard heat of him nestled against her belly. “Yes.” Her

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.