Page 34 of Fletcher

“’Tisnae so bad, just the one deep cut and some scrapes. Aye, and you didnae break your jaw, clever lass.” He took some bottles from his case. “The druids taught me the blend for a good salve of honey, mallow and herbs. ’Twill heal you swiftly, and keep you from scarring. I’ve a draught for the pain as well.”

Lark wanted to tell Fletcher what had happened, but she could tell that now was not the time. He looked at the chamber maid with a terrible guilt on his face, as if he blamed himself for her injuries. Yet from what she had seen it had all been an accident.

Except for the part when I flung him onto the beach.

Meg closed her eyes after sipping the drink the healer prepared with a brew one of the maids brought. Once he finished cleaning and stitching together her wound, Duncan stood and turned to them.

“She’ll sleep for the day,” he said in a low voice, rubbing his own jaw. “I’ll keep her with me in the infirmary ’til the morrow so I may see the wound doesnae fester. Tell Lady Valerie; she’ll wish come and look in on the lass tonight.”

Fletcher insisted on carrying Meg to the infirmary, and waited to assure she was comfortable before he led Lark through the passages to his work room. Before she could say anything he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.

“It’s okay.” She rubbed her hands up and down his back. “She’ll be all right.”

Fletcher suddenly recoiled from her. “We cannae go on as we’ve done. You must keep away from me, Mistress, else you suffer the same or worse.”

Lark saw the fear in his eyes, one she knew only too well.

“I didn’t know that you’re to blame for everything bad that happens to women in this place.” When he made an impatient sound she folded her arms. “All right, then I’ll blame you for the cuff I snagged this morning while I was attaching it to a sleeve, and the tangle in my hair that nearly broke my comb. Maybe you’re even the reason I got mugged in Central Park.”

“My curse, ’tis killed all the women I’ve loved, and who loved me.” He gave her a look so haunted it made her heart clench. “One died in her sleep. The second did the same in my bed. A horse trampled the last before my very eyes.”

Lark’s throat grew tight. He really did believe he was cursed, and she understood exactly how he had come to that belief. Time after time she had hoped to have a life with the people she’d loved, only to be crushed. After having so much snatched away from her, she’d become so guarded she hadn’t been able to open her heart to anyone. At the same time she knew something that the seneschal didn’t, and that might change the entire situation for him.

“There’s only one problem with your curse: Meg is in love with someone else. I know because she talked to me about him. I’m also pretty sure you’re not in love with her, or you wouldn’t have slept with me. So.” She went to him, and put her arms around his waist. “Handsome and wonderful as you are, I’m afraid you didn’t do this.”

Fletcher bent his head and touched his brow to hers. “Pledge you dinnae love me. Swear.”

“I really, really don’t love you.” Lark curled a hand around the back of his neck. “I’m just your friend, and I’m using you for sex. You’re my plaything.”

He closed his eyes. “You say thus only so you may console me.”

“Honestly, I don’t even like you that much. You’re too tall, and too busy, and you snore a little when you sleep.” She pushed him backward until she got him to sit down in the chair by his work table, and then sat on his lap. “On the other hand, I like your body a lot. Really a lot. So tonight, after we both finish our work, I’m going to seduce you again.” She tapped a finger against his lips. “Maybe you should take a nap today.”

His eyes gleamed suspiciously for a moment. “You’re a wicked lass, Lark Ambrose.”

“He finally notices.” She tucked her face against his neck, and in a softer tone said, “I understand how awful bad luck can be. The day I came here I was supposed to marry a man I’d been seeing for two years. Instead he stole all my money and ran away with my good friend. That fancy gown I was wearing when you found me was my wedding dress.”

Fletcher’s arms tightened around her. “He’s a blind arse, then.”

“I didn’t love him, either.” To say it out loud seemed incredibly freeing. “I thought I did, but I think I was just hoping I would eventually fall for him.”

She told him about Lawrence and Kate, sparing no detail of the humiliation they had caused her. Although it still hurt her pride a little, their betrayal now seemed like something that had happened to her years ago. Any regard she’d ever had for her fiancé had faded as well.

I’ll live, and so will Fletcher.

“You made me realize that I don’t need to be in love to be happy,” she finally said. “I’m happy being friends with benefits. We don’t need to take vows or make any promises. We can just be together.”

“You’re certain ’tis what you wish?” When she nodded he tipped up her chin and kissed her, his mouth hard and demanding.

He needed this right now, Lark sensed, this reassurance that nothing bad would happen to her. Drawing up the skirt of her gown around her waist, she shifted to straddle him, and gently rubbed herself against the steely length of his confined cock. Clamping an arm around her, Fletcher rose and went over to drop the bar on the door before he returned to the table, where he put her down on her back, and stepped between her legs.

Lark reached for the laces of her bodice, tugging them loose so she could slide down the top of her gown. Although she wore a linen chemise underneath, she hadn’t altered it, and it took only a tug to bare her breasts for him. Fletcher watched her as he yanked down her panties and shoved his trousers to his knees.

“This is the only wish I make now,” she said as the head of his cock pressed against her swollen, wet folds. “You coming inside me. It’s so good I can’t wait for the day to end, because I know as soon as we’re alone you’ll–”

Fletcher drove into her with a powerful thrust that made her grab his tunic and arch up, but then he slid back, and nearly made her scream with frustration and wanting. The table rocked wildly under her as he pumped into her again, sending a shockwave of heat and bright sensation through her entire body, and Lark forgot everything but him.

“I’ll grant your every wish, my wanton lass,” he said, running his hands over her breasts as they bounced with every plunge of his cock. “Night, morn, midday, you’ve but summon me, and I shall pleasure you, and fill your wee quim as much as you need.”