Chapter Two #2
She approached Ares, her favorite, and unhooded him. Gillian cooed to the hawk, blowing gently on his face. The merlin watched her with golden eyes so like the earl's. She ruffled the bird's chest feathers.
"'Tis unwise to get so close."
"I have trained him since shortly after he hatched. He has never threatened."
"A fright could cause it."
"Ares knows me. Usually, I wear gauntlets when I handle the birds. I had no time tonight to fetch them."
"Your father allowed this?"
She bit back the sharp retort and took a deep breath before responding.
"Yes. He did. I'm a better falconer than anyone for miles."
'Twas true she had a natural talent for working with the birds.
When Walter, the old falconer had passed, Gillian had taken over caring for the birds, though she hadn't been permitted to live in Walter's former quarters beside the mews.
Still, she took pride in her skill in training and maintaining Lyndon's birds.
She truly loved every moment she spent with her hawks.
"Your father spoiled you."
He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. The movement rekindled her fascination, and a sharp yearning washed over her like a great wave. Her tongue felt as if it were coated in dry wool. Until his words penetrated the haze.
"How dare you! You have known me only a few hours, yet you have already passed judgment."
"My wife won't work in the mews. I'll hire a falconer. You need only concern yourself with matters of the household."
"The mews are part of the household. Therefore, I'm responsible."
The fierce need to prove herself grew stronger. Perhaps he should see just how capable she truly was. Would it change his mind? She honestly had no idea.
"In the morning, I'll take Ares out. Join me. Judge me then."
"Where will you go?"
"Through the forest, to the fields beyond. I can show you..."
"Are you daft, woman? Do you not know the danger –?"
"I am safe!"
"Safe? How many times must I remind you rebels lurk nearby? You are too tempting a morsel for anyone to ignore should they come upon you."
"I don't go alone. I have my guards."
"Other than Simon, how many?"
"One, sometimes two."
She turned back to Ares, stroking the bird's head as she spoke softly to it.
"Do you know what a band of Welshmen can do to one or two guards? You will be lucky to survive. If you are so lucky, you will soon wish you had died."
Gillian spun around, startling Ares, who squawked in protest and fluttered his wings. She backed away as the bird jabbed out with his beak. Though Ares did not make contact with Gillian's face, 'twas close.
Anger at her betrothed grew fast. He'd caused the tension in the roost. The other birds shifted restlessly, wings fluttering for a few anxious moments in response to Ares' cry.
Finally, they calmed, soothed by Gillian's low voice.
Carefully, she replaced the hood on Ares's head and stroked the soft feathers once more before letting loose her temper.
"Keep your voice down! You should know better!"
"I seem to lose patience all too easily when you insist on taking such foolish risks."
Gillian narrowed her eyes. The derision in his tone fueled the defiance she struggled to hold at bay.
"With or without guards, I am capable of defending myself."
The corners of his mouth lifted, accompanied by a muffled laugh. His amusement sent her anger soaring. She turned to leave, unwilling to endure any more of his mockery. As she passed, he grabbed her arm.
"You are very much at ease despite the talk of rebels. How can you defend yourself? With your hawks?"
The disdain with which he tossed the words twisted in Gillian's stomach like a rusted knife. Her skill with a bow and arrow was admired by all her father's men. She had trained hard to prove herself worthy of being her father's heir. She would prove it to the earl as well.
"You know nothing of my abilities." She met his gaze, daring him to question her further.
"True, I do not. But I will know everything about you ere long."
The urge to look away grew, but Gillian resisted. She wouldn't cower before him, though she sensed his words held a more subtle meaning, judging from the heat flaming in his eyes.
"Tell me, Lady Gillian, how would you defend yourself against a horde of Welsh rebels on horses? Your pretty jeweled eating dagger may impress your servants and villagers, but 'twill provoke nothing but laughter from a savage band of murderers."
"I can take a man from his horse at fifty paces with a longbow."
The earl nodded. "Very well, suppose you could take out one, perhaps two men before the others, maybe twice as many as your guards, reached you. Your longbow will do no good at close range. Then what, Lady Gillian? Who will save you then?"
The words to respond eluded her. She looked away, silently cursing his triumph.
"You know nothing of warfare and rebel attacks. I can't help wondering again at your confidence in your safety. Perhaps you're involved more than you say. Perhaps you aided the Welsh during this last war."
Gillian met his steady gaze. A shuttered coolness now replaced the earlier heat.
"I would never..."
"Wouldn't you? Your stepmother has a lover, possibly Welsh. Perhaps you do as well. Perhaps 'tis your 'guard'. Perhaps you intended to meet him tonight and that's why you are so anxious to be rid of me."
The sound of her palm cracking against his cheek echoed through the mews.
His head turned slightly under the force of the blow.
Tension crackled between them, like lightning during a spring storm.
Once again, the birds stirred restlessly in response to the turmoil.
A wave of fear dimmed her rage as she realized she had struck her future husband.
The king's favorite. She held her breath, waiting for the punishment sure to follow.
"Men have died for less than what you dare."
His voice, low and menacing, terrified her more than if he had shouted.
His eyes glittered and his fury smelled of brimstone.
She trembled, fright making her knees weak, and she might have fallen had he not grabbed her arm.
His grip tightened as he jerked her roughly against him.
Only the restless movements of the hawks broke the silence.
Gillian tried to pull free, without success.
A brief recollection of his coarse treatment of Anne skittered through her jumbled thoughts, and she tugged again.
This time, he pulled her still closer, his other hand cupping the back of her head as his mouth suddenly claimed hers with a punishing kiss.
Fear consuming her, once more she tried to pull away, but his fingers bit into her arm and tightened in her hair.
His mouth continued its assault, bruising her lips.
She stood in his harsh embrace, her hands coming to rest on his chest, waiting for an opportunity to shove at him.
Panic taunted her, but she kept it at bay, determined not to show her terror.
At that moment, a strange thing happened.
Her body warmed and a strange feathery delight blossomed in her belly.
She found herself responding to the demands of his mouth.
The kiss softened, just a little, and a hint of pleasure burst into a decadence she'd never imagined.
A strange calm came over her as his lips now moved gently over hers.
When he drew away, she found herself disappointed.
He raised his head. No longer did she find fury in his gaze.
Instead, flames flickered amid something she did not recognize, something alluring.
The remnants of fear rapidly faded, replaced by curiosity.
She leaned closer, trying to understand the emotion she read.
Her breasts tightened, her gown suddenly confining.
She'd never had such a physical reaction to a mere stare.
Then again, she'd never been kissed like that before.
The few pecks one of her father's men had given her had not stirred anything even remotely similar to the powerful sensations taking over her body now.
To her surprise, the expression on his face softened more.
He looked as though he might smile. His grip on her arm loosened, but he didn't release her, instead holding her close with a firm yet gentle grip.
His fingers moved along the sensitive underside of her arm and she sucked in a breath at the slither of warmth along her spine.
Enthralled by the heated glow in his golden eyes, Gillian didn't resist. Forgotten was her anger over his arrogant words, her fear he'd demand retribution for her actions.
Her sole focus remained on the hold of his gaze and the way the closeness made him seem larger, more powerful.
New emotions swelled, confusing her, yet exciting her at the same time.
Her heart pounded, and beneath her palms, his heart thumped just as vigorously.
He yanked her more fully against him. His fingers on her chin tilted her head back so she looked into his face. Darkened to a deep amber, his intense gaze warmed. Slowly, he lowered his head and Gillian realized he meant to kiss her again. This time she recognized she wanted him to.
His lips brushed softly, once, twice and then again.
She remained motionless when he embraced her.
The kiss grew more potent, the pressure of his lips increasing.
Unlike the last kiss, this one stirred heat slowly, yet steadily until she thought she might combust. Her body slackened and she melted, returning his kiss.
Excitement surged. Her head swirled with dizzying emotions. The tender way he held her, this warrior knight, exhilarated her. She never wanted the kiss to end.