Page 77 of King’s Knight

“Possibly. I have told them it is so. Or, they might have done it because they know I would wish to be alone with you.” The rose gown fit her well, reminding him of the curves beneath the silk that were now his. Her breasts were fuller with the child. He longed to have her join him in the bed, but he sensed she was pondering something.

She opened the shutters, letting a blast of cold air into the room. The fire in the brazier flickered.

“Tell me what you see,” he said.

Her face lit like a small child’s. “Snow is falling,” she said excitedly. “The white flakes make the village appear like a fairy land. It seems lit from within, even though it is night. The last of the castle’s servants are leaving through the gate, no doubt heading for their hearth fires.” Raising her head, she gazed outward. “The woodland in the distance looks like a sack of flour has been shaken over it.”

He studied her profile, the upturned nose, the lips that never failed to entice him and the proud but delicate jaw. There was not another woman in England he would have chosen above her.

She closed the shutters and turned to face him. “ ’Tis an early first snow.”

“Mayhap the sun will rise tomorrow and melt what remains.” He hoped it would be so. “Our travel north will be muddy in any case, but we must go, no matter. I do not care to spend the winter here.”

“Nor I,” she said.

He held out his hand.

She walked to the bed and took his hand. He pulled her down where he could reach the rest of her. She was chilled from her time at the window. “You are shivering.”

“And you are like a great brazier, a warm fire on a cold night,” she said, a subtle smile spreading across her face.

He circled her with his arms. “Then let me warm you.” He did what he had wanted to do since she entered his chamber and pulled her into his lap. His heart thundered in his chest as he held back the desire to take her hard and fast. She was new to this and there was the child to consider. His child. The thought pleased him greatly.

Gently cupping her face in his hands, he brought her mouth to his and savored the taste of her. Raising his head, he looked into her passion-glazed eyes. “I would take you over and over until you are fevered,” he said.

“But your leg!” she softly protested.

“I am certain the pleasure will outweigh the pain.”

He turned her so he could unlace her gown. Soon they were naked beneath the cover.

“Loving you is unlike anything I have ever done,” he whispered, feeling her breasts against his chest. He pulled her hips against his swelling groin. “Can you feel my body’s need to have you?”

She responded by running her hands through his hair, then over his shoulders. “Aye.”

He slid his hand between them to the soft nest of hair at the juncture of her thighs. “And can you feel your body is ready for me?”

“Oh, yes, sir knight.”

* * *

The next morning, Merewyn descended the stairs to the sound of men’s raised voices. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw guards clustered around the countess.

“Escaped?” Ermentrude asked.

Merewyn cringed. This had been her doing. She had not told Alex the night before that when she looked out the window of his chamber into the snow, she had seen the King of Gwynedd slipping past the guards with the villagers on their way home. She fretted for the concerned countess, but she was glad Gruffydd had got away.

“I do not understand,” the countess continued. “How can that be? Was the prisoner not guarded at all times?”

“He was, my lady,” insisted a swarthy mail-clad knight. She recognized the voice as the one called Marcel. “But sometime during the night, Sir Drew fell ill and spent some time in the privy. When he was able to return to his post, all seemed well. The prisoner’s absence was not discovered until this morning when a servant brought him food.”

Merewyn wondered if the man had truly been ill or if this was a story to cover their drinking while serving guard duty.

“The keys?” asked the countess.

“Still on the peg where they are always kept, my lady” said Marcel.

“My husband will not be pleased to hear of it,” said Ermentrude. “The man could not simply vanish. He was chained! Do you think someone intentionally made Sir Drew ill?”