Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Audley Castle, which Gwenllian had heard about from Sian and Christopher, was as welcoming as they had described it.
However, as she was not supposed to remember who she was, she made a point of not giving the impression that she had heard of it before.
This might be more difficult than she had anticipated, she realized belatedly.
She would have to guard her tongue very closely, something she wasn’t sure she would be able to do.
She waited by the barbican while Alexander—somehow, during their ride, Gwenllian had dropped the “Sir” in her mind—answered his squire’s questions. The man thought that his master might have been attacked, an understandable assumption given the state of his clothes.
“My lord, who dared—”
“Fret not, Edward,” he soothed the young man. “Nothing happened. Only a pup in need of rescue.”
She noticed that he didn’t mention the men who had attacked her.
Nor did he introduce her, which made sense, since he didn’t know who she was.
Heat invaded her cheeks when her gaze met Edward’s, and the youth promptly looked away.
Did he think her his master’s latest conquest, brought in for the night?
Well, if that were the case, she had only herself to blame.
She had decided not to give her name, she would now have to deal with the consequences.
The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, and a steady rain had started to fall when they entered the main hall.
It was a spacious room made cozy by the addition of colorful tapestries hung on every wall.
A lively fire was roaring in the hearth, and a selection of cold meats and cheese had been placed on a trestle table in the corner.
The smell reaching all the way to the door was wonderful, but when Alexander turned to her, he looked slightly apologetic.
“I tend to have only a light supper in the evening. Not knowing we would have a guest, my people prepared the usual. Had I known—”
“’Tis not a problem.”
The food, however simple, was a very welcome sight and made her realize that she was famished. She always was in times of crisis, and her ordeal at the hands of the ruffians certainly qualified as a crisis, even if, thanks to Alexander, nothing irreparable had happened.
Her hunger must have shown on her face because he gave a slanted smile. “If you will excuse my current state, we can eat immediately.”
“Yes, please.”
His current state was far from a problem, as it allowed her to enjoy his advantageous physique to the full. He looked even more rugged and appealing than before.
They washed their hands in the bowl of scented water and settled on the folding chairs opposite one another.
Outside, the rain could be heard hammering down in the courtyard.
Gwenllian shivered and wished she had brought her cloak with her.
But, of course, when she had set off, it had been sunny, and she had not imagined that she would be gone for so long.
Alexander excused himself and walked out of the room. Gwenllian took the opportunity to move her chair closer to the fire. The door opened behind her and, a moment later, she felt a piece of fur wrapping around her shoulders. She turned around, amazed.
“You seemed cold,” Alexander said by way of an explanation.
“I was.” It struck her that this was precisely the sort of thing her father would have done for her mother.
But they had been married for more than two decades and knew one another as well as they knew themselves.
How had this man she had just met and who didn’t even know who she was guessed that she needed warmth? “Thank you.”
With a nod, he took his place opposite her and resumed eating.
“I have a room you can use for the night,” Alexander told her once they had finished their simple but delicious supper.
The venison haunch had been roasted to perfection, and the cheese full of flavor.
Just like everything else at Audley, the meal had been tasteful without being ostentatious.
It reminded her of her own home. “Fourth door along the gallery above the main hall. I will ask for a bath to be prepared and fresh clothes to be found for you.”
He gestured to her muddy clothes. Indeed, she could not go to bed in those.
“Thank you.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, as we established earlier, I, too, need a bath. I will go speak to my people and get everything settled. I also need to speak to my steward about your horse, so he can send people out early tomorrow.”
Gwenllian smiled. She had not dared ask if he remembered his promise to look for her mare, but it warmed her to see that he had not forgotten.
“Please,” she said as they both stood up. “Can I ask… What will you tell your people about me?”
“The truth.” He appeared surprised at her question.
“That I was of assistance to you while I was out riding, and so I brought you back here for the night, your place of residence being too far for this late hour. I think we will keep to ourselves the fact that you cannot remember your name for now. Not that anyone would ever dare make you feel uncomfortable in any way.”
“Yes, ’tis for the best.” She had to admit that she was relieved the people of Audley would not think her his conquest.
“Besides, after a night’s rest, you might start remembering details that will help us find out who you are. No need to worry for now. A temporary lapse of memory is surely to be expected after the shock you suffered.”
His concern for her brought Gwenllian back to the reality of the situation.
How long would she keep pretending? What for?
What did she hope to gain from the subterfuge?
She was set to go to Scotland, but even if she weren’t, she could not remain here indefinitely.
She’d had what she wanted, a night with her dashing knight.
Well, a night under his roof at least, but people would worry about her if she didn’t return soon.
Her uncle and aunt were not home at present, which was fortunate, but her cousins would worry about her unexplained absence.
“Yes, you’re right,” she whispered. “Good night.”
Once Alexander was gone, Gwenllian walked over to the crackling fire and took a moment to put her thoughts in order.
Eventually, she decided to go to the room and the bath he had asked to be prepared for her. It should be ready by now, and she didn’t want the water to go cold.
The spiral staircase took her up one level, to the gallery above the hall she had just left.
A few low-burning torches lit the way along the rather narrow corridor.
She walked on, wishing Alexander, or at least one of the servants, had accompanied her, because suddenly his very simple instruction seemed to leave much room for error.
Was this a door? she wondered, staring at the wooden panel in front of her.
Surely not, it was too small to count as anything; it was more than likely a storeroom of some sort.
She carried on. There, a proper door, then another and another.
One more. Four, just as he’d said. This had to be it.
She entered the room—and froze.
Alexander was standing in front of the fire of what had to be his personal bedchamber.
He had not seen or heard her come in because his face was covered by the piece of linen he was using to rub his hair dry.
He had taken his bath then. She knew it because there was a wooden tub just behind him, and because, well, he was naked.
Fully, gloriously, scandalously naked.
Gwenllian swallowed, knowing she should leave before she was seen. She stayed where she was, too fascinated to move.
He lifted the piece of cloth from his head and saw her.
Their gazes locked, green against black.
Her heart started drumming, and everything in her body, blood, breath and sensations, rushed down to the place between her legs.
Slowly, without a word, Alexander wrapped the wet piece of cloth around his loins.
It was not big enough to cover much more than his member, and somehow it only served to emphasize his state of undress.
He did not appear ill at ease, which only increased Gwenllian’s agitation.
It was as if he were daring her to come closer and touch his hair-matted chest or his taut, well-defined stomach.
And in that moment, she very much wanted to dare.
Finally, when it became clear that she would not speak, he did.
“Fourth door, not fifth,” was all he said.
“No, I know, b-but I thought— The first one was so…small.”
Just as she said the word, her gaze trailed downward to the part of his body hidden underneath the cloth. What she had seen there was anything but small.
Naughty as it was, Gwenllian had seen a few naked men in the last few years. None compared to the one she had just seen. In any way. He was taller, broader, stronger, more—everything.
“A door is a door. Size doesn’t matter,” Alexander said slowly, glancing at his groin in the same way she had done. A corner of his lip curled.
Did she agree? No, she did not. “I’m sorry but size does matter, because that door was too small to be the door to a room. And… Well, just look at you!”
Heat shot all the way to her skull. What had she just said?
“What about me?” The lip curled further. Soon, he would be smiling.
“I mean…” she floundered, keeping her gaze carefully away from his groin.
She would not tell him what she really thought.
“Had you been less tall and imposing, I doubt that my aggressors would have fled at your arrival, they would have taken their chances with you. There were two of them, they would have had every reason to think they could take you down. But they didn’t even try. ”
“I see. I’m worth two men in your opinion?”
That was not at all what she was saying, but she had no choice but to agree. Because telling the truth was out of the question, as she’d just established. “Yes.”
“Well, I’m flattered.” There it was. The smile he had fought for so long. It took away what little breath Gwenllian had left.
“You should be flattered. I m-mean—”
A snort, both tender and amused, interrupted her. “Go to your room, Buttercup. Your bath awaits.”
“Yes. Of course. And I’m sorry for the mistake.”
Was she sorry? No. Embarrassed, yes, sorry, no, as it had allowed her to see something she would relish in the years to come.
“There’s no harm done.”
That was far from certain, Gwenllian reflected as she closed the door behind her. She was not at all sure she would recover from the shock of walking in on a naked Alexander.
Buttercup.
Alexander stared at the door the mysterious woman had just closed behind her. He still had no idea who she was, but one thing was for sure, that silly nickname didn’t fit her at all. It was too childish and innocent by far.
And there was nothing childish or innocent about her.
The way she had raked his body with her gaze before settling on his groin, causing the green in her eyes to catch fire, had, in turn, lit a fire in his loins.
How long had she stared at him while he rubbed at his hair?
Or rather, stared at his cock? Because there was no doubt in his mind that was where she had focused her attention.
Her comment about there being nothing small about him made that clear.
She had not, whatever she said, been talking about the size of his arms.
He gave a wry smile.
If she thought his cock big after a dip in the barely warm water, she should see it now.
It had started to lengthen during their conversation, and it was now fully hard, straining upward, demanding attention.
Alexander might well have to grant it the release it craved if he wanted to get any sleep tonight.
Could he stroke himself with his little guest in the next room?
As desperate as he was for relief, he didn’t want her to hear his grunts when pleasure overtook him.
Because, aroused as he was, he would find it impossible to remain silent.
After witnessing the desire in her eyes, he knew that this release would be explosive.
The door of the room to his right closed shut, signaling that his guest had found her accommodation for the night.
Dear God, why had he sent her to sleep in the room next to his?
There had been other options, and he didn’t think she would have minded a smaller room.
But, wanting to impress her with Audley’s grandeur, he had chosen the room with the most impressive furnishings.
Which meant he was going to have to sleep with just a wall separating them.
Alexander swallowed. Any moment now, she would be undressing and slipping into the bath he had ordered for her.
And he would be able to hear everything, the splashing of the water when she left the tub, the creaking of the bed when she climbed into it later on, her skin still damp from the wash.
What he would not hear, he would just imagine.
The rustling of the clothes when she undressed, the sigh of relief when she sank into the warm water, her delight at slipping between clean sheets after a trying day.
What soap had Ellie brought her? Was the skin of his little Buttercup going to smell like heather or like the exotic, costly spices they had used as an experiment in the last batch, a cake of which he had just used on himself?
Would that he could find out by sticking his head between her thighs and inhaling her curls, where the scent would linger for a while.
Perhaps he would also lick her. Yes. If he ever found himself with his head between her slender legs, he would not be able to resist the temptation.
He would lick her. And he wouldn’t stop until she had come undone.
That did it.
After imagining himself burying his tongue in such sweet delight and feeling painful bolts of need shooting through his veins, he definitely needed release.
Alexander grabbed his cock.