Chapter 20 #2
He sounded so concerned, and she couldn’t stop herself from touching him, from running her hand down his perfect jaw. His eyes grew intense. “’Tis a mild pain, nothing I cannot handle. I suspect it hurts far less than your shoulder.”
He laughed. “Aye, I suspect you are correct.”
“I am disappointed, though.”
His brows shot up. “Disappointed?” He looked so disconcerted she wanted to laugh.
“Yes.” She slid him a sideways look. “You promised to wake me.”
Richard grinned. “I was right about you, wasn’t I? You are a tease, and a wicked one too.”
He tucked her arm in his and led her from the hall and out into the wooden forebuilding. Cold air blew up the stairwell from the bailey below. He turned to her, drawing her against him once more.
“Un cusan,” he said, lowering his head.
One kiss. Gwen slipped her arms around him, running her hands up his back. If he meant the kiss to be brief, it was not. His mouth was like velvet, his tongue silken torture. Gwen moaned, meeting him, urging him.
The need to taste him, to feel him, was all consuming.
Desire unfurled in the pit of her stomach. It raged through her like wildfire and she pressed herself tighter to him, thrilling at the answering hardness of his loins.
His right hand splayed across her back, his left brushed her neck, her collarbone, the soft swell of a breast. He cupped the firm mound, squeezing softly.
Gwen ran her hands over him, imprinting the feel of him on her fevered brain, giving in to the urge to touch the proof of his desire for her.
He shuddered and pulled her tighter. Footsteps echoed on the stairs below, and they broke away reluctantly.
Andrew’s head appeared in the stairwell.
“There ye are, milord. Bruno’s waitin’ for ye in the armory like ye said.
” He looked at Gwen. “Good mornin’, milady.
” His gaze darted between her and Richard, taking in the ruffled hair, rumpled clothes, eyes that kept seeking each other rather than him.
“Excuse me, milord, milady,” he mumbled, retreating the way he’d come.
Richard backed toward the stairs. “Tonight,” he said, his hand stretched behind him, feeling for the rail. When he came in contact with it, he stopped, his eyes never leaving hers. Gwen waited for him to say something else, but he whirled around and disappeared down the stairs without another word.
She leaned against the wall and touched her lips. Richard still wanted her, and it was a relief.
Gwen joined Owain in the family solar for her English lesson. She sat in a window seat and peered out into the bailey. Thinking she spied Richard’s dark head in the lists, she pressed her hands to the glass and squinted.
Surely he wouldn’t engage in sword practice or jousting with his injured shoulder. Sighing, she turned to Owain. From this distance, she couldn’t tell who it was.
“You’re looking well today, milady,” Owain said, raising his head from his account books. His mouth curved in a smile. “Could it have anything to do with the return of our beloved lord?”
Gwen turned back to the window, blushing. She couldn’t exactly deny that Richard was her beloved after all the things Owain had heard her say to the staff. She cleared her throat and fixed him with her best princess stare.
Owain chuckled. “Very well, I won’t say another word.”
Gwen pulled at a loose thread on one of the pillows. Finally, she thrust the pillow away and said what was foremost on her mind. “Please tell me about Elizabeth.”
Owain leaned back in his chair, his face creasing in a frown. “I think you should ask Richard, not me.”
“Please, Owain. I-I cannot ask him.” She grabbed the pillow and twisted the thread around her finger, staring at the purple blotches that arose when she pulled too tight.
Owain sighed heavily. “He should tell you about her, but he probably will not see the need. He has always been stubborn like that.” He paused, staring out the window.
“Lady Elizabeth was a kind woman. She was quite young and very shy when she first came here. She had not your beauty or your boldness, but she learned to get along. She loved Richard, but then most women do.”
Gwen looked at the old man sharply, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. She knew he had not said it to hurt her. He was merely speaking the truth as he saw it. How many hearts had Richard broken? “Did he love her?”
Owain continued to stare out the window, speaking in that dream-like state of one who is lost in thought. “I think he was fond of her.”
Gwen felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle. It was unreasonable to be jealous of a dead woman. “How did she die?”
“Birthing his son. The babe was stillborn and she died soon after.”
“Oh,” Gwen said quietly. A wife and a son. Did you love them, Richard? “He must have been devastated.”
“Aye, I think so, though he wasn’t here when it happened.
He was with the king at Kenilworth, planning the war against your father.
When he returned, he spent a long time in the crypt.
He never spoke to me about it.” Owain sighed.
“I was beginning to worry if he would ever remarry. He needs an heir, a son to leave Dunsmore’s holdings to. ”
Gwen smoothed her hand over her belly. Could she give Richard the son he needed? Did she even want to?
When she looked up, Owain was watching her, a smile softening his face. Embarrassed, she clasped her hands in her lap.
“Of course,” Owain said, “’tis possible your son will have so much more than just Dunsmore to rule. I was rather surprised your father agreed to let Richard’s sons in line for the throne. But then again, if your stepmother gives birth to a boy, it will no longer matter.”
Gwen’s heart dropped. “What?”
“Jesú, you did not know,” Owain said, his voice filled with dread.
“Nay,” Gwen whispered.
He let out a long breath. “Richard will kill me for this.”
Gwen took hold of her seething emotions. “There is no need to tell him, Owain. For all he knows, my father told me.”
Owain nodded. “Aye, if you wish it then.”
“I do.” Why had her father not told her? Sweet Mary, Black Hawk’s son on the throne of Wales!
Her son.
’Twas no wonder Richard made love to her with such enthusiasm! He wanted to put his babe in her so he could claim the throne one day.
God, how stupid she’d been not to realize why he seemed to desire her so much!
A flash of comprehension sent icy horror washing down her spine. Black Hawk de Claiborne would not wait past the day she delivered a healthy boy. Once it was done, he would take an army to Gwynedd to kill her father.
Then he would claim Wales for their son.