Page 49 of Rogue Knight
Hearing the men’s conversations, retelling the story of the Normans’ routing of the weak Northumbrian forces, reminded him of his mission. He had come to Dunfermline not only to seek Malcolm’s aid, as he had King Swein’s, but to convince the Scot and the others to join the fight. Even more than men and arms, they needed leaders with a firm resolve to accomplish their purpose. He was still doubtful of Osbjorn’s ability to lead hundreds of ships and thousands of Danish warriors. He knew William. The Norman Bastard was fierce and would not be stopped except by men with a tenacity to match his own.
“You are a quiet one this night, Maerleswein,” observed the king of the Scots, looking down the table to where Maerleswein sat.
“Aye. I have been contemplating all that must be done by summer’s end when we return to Yorkshire to meet King Swein’s ships. There is much to consider.”
“You are confident they will arrive?”
“I am. What Swein has promised, he will see done. While I was still in Jelling, he ordered the building of more longships.”
Cospatric set down his wine. “He was most eager to reclaim the heart of the old Danish lands.”
Malcolm leaned forward. “In that, Scotland may have an interest. We were planning to invade Yorkshire last year on Edgar’s behalf, but alas, the Norman got there first.”
“He has come and gone again from York,” Maerleswein informed the king, “leaving yet another of his castles and more of his French knights. While he is away is the time to strike.”
***
York, England
Emma gazed into Geoffroi’s face, as they lay together amidst the lavender flowers at the edge of the meadow that abutted the woods, content as she had never been. In the background she could hear the melodious song of the ruby-breasted linnet.
The world did not intrude into this part of the forest. It was a special place, theirs alone. It had not been easy for her to steal away unnoticed to meet him in the flower-filled meadow, but she had done so. And she came willingly, though not as often as either Geoffroi or she would have liked.
Sunlight filtered through the trees to fall across his straw-colored hair. One arm bent under her head for a pillow, she reached up with the other to touch his cheek, letting her fingers caress his now familiar face, relishing the weight of his body lying across hers.
He bent his head to kiss her, brushing his lips over hers. She heard him take a deep breath.
“I love your smell,” he said, nuzzling her neck, sending shivers down her spine and awakening other parts of her body. “I noticed it the first time you rode with me.”
His tongue slid over her skin and she turned into his caress.
“You taste like honey,” he murmured.
She turned her head to kiss his temple.
“Would that we could always be together like this,” he said, raising himself on one elbow to brush tendrils of hair from her brow. “Only I would prefer a bed,” he added with a grin, “and you naked. The times I have seen your lovely form have been too few.”
She smiled up at him, her hand curving around his chiseled jaw. He turned his head to kiss her palm. The warmth of his lips sent an aching need coursing through her. She loved the touch of this man. His hands were rough but his lovemaking tender. Yet, at times, his passion had risen to take her in a furious storm. She had reveled in his unleashed strength.
“’Tis a dream I, too, wish were real,” she murmured. But she knew it was only a dream, one that would never be realized. In this place she ignored the allegiances that would one day tear them apart. She forgot the father she loved who led the rebels. If this was all she had of her knight and his love, she would accept it and be grateful for the gift.
His face was mere inches from hers when he whispered, “I meant when I said I would have no other, Emma. Do me the honor of becoming my wife and when I return to Talisand, come with me.”
She let out a breath. How she wanted to go! Somehow she must find the words to tell him she could not. “My life is here, Geoffroi. The twins, my home, Inga.”My people, my father, my future.
“Bring Inga and the twins with you,” he said undaunted, sitting up to cast her a mischievous smile. “Even the hound! Talisand has room for all and I have a manor and land of my own. Even Artur and Sigga would find a home there with us.”
“If only….” She gazed into the depths of his blue eyes. If only her father did not plot with the Danes to recapture York. If only she was not a thegn’s daughter with all the attendant responsibilities to her station and to those who depended upon her. If Geoffroi knew her father and his allies planned to send the Norman king running, he would have nothing to do with her. His love might even turn to hate. If her father knew she had taken a Norman knight as her lover, he would kill that knight. Torn between them, she could tell neither of the other.
“You need only say ‘Yes’, Emma.”
She sat up and began to brush the grass from her tunic, avoiding his eyes. “I cannot. Not… now.”
He was silent for a time and then he said, “I know it would mean an upheaval in your life, but I will give you time, Emma, as much as I have to give. It may be that at summer’s end I will return to the Lune River, to Talisand. I pray you will go with me. We belong together.”
She felt a shiver run up her spine. At summer’s end, he and the other Normans could be dead, slain by her fellow Northumbrians or their Danish allies. Mayhap even her father. The weight of the knowledge she bore crushed her. How could she tell him the battle for York was not over, as he might believe, but had only just begun? How could she face the prospect of losing him in that battle? Geoffroi could not die. No, he must live to return to his beloved Talisand, even if it were without her.
He stood and helped her to rise, then kissed her. She welcomed his kiss, desperately clinging to their few moments together. Each of his kisses was precious, for she did not know how long she would have them.
