If My Heart Could See You, Page 20

  “The stone’s color reminded me of your eyes,” Dristan spoke, reading her thoughts.

  Setting the blade carefully down, Amiria launched herself into Dristan’s arms. He caught her easily and held her close.

  “’Tis magnificent,” she whispered softly in his ear, “as are you!”

  “Harrumph! ’Tis about time you noticed, my lady,” he said playfully, although he still felt slightly embarrassed at her words.

  “’Tis a very thoughtful gift, and one I shall treasure all of my days,” she declared sweetly. “I did not think you would care for me to lift a sword again.”

  Dristan looked into her eyes captivated by the depth of emotion he could see shining there. “How else are you to guard my back if you are not properly trained, my lady?” he answered with a sparkle in his eyes. “Besides, I believe this one will suit you better as ’tis lighter. I still have the sword your father gave you and, perchance one day, if we should be so blessed, you can bestow it to our son.”

  Amiria could no longer contain showing her happiness. Reaching up, she pulled his head down in order to reach his lips. Dristan clasped her to him, for she kissed him with all the emotions she had held in check. He felt her tremble beneath his hands whilst she held onto his arms. He deepened their kiss just to prove that he would leave her weak-kneed, necessitating his support to keep her upright.

  “Come Patrick,” Lynet prompted. “Let us leave them some privacy for a bit.”

  “But Lynet, I want to look at Amiria’s sword,” he whined.

  Dristan reluctantly pulled his mouth away from Amiria but did not loosen his hold of her. Placing a kiss upon her forehead he called to her siblings. “Lynet, go see what cook has in his kitchen. He can put everything into a basket and we shall away to the strand and enjoy the afternoon there.”

  “Me too, my lord?” Patrick asked hopefully.

  “Aye . . . you too, Patrick. Mayhap you could see that our horses are ready along with blankets to take our ease on the sand,” Dristan said humorously and saw the enthusiastic smile that lit the boy’s face.

  “Hooray!” Patrick exclaimed, jumping for joy and running from the solar with Lynet fast on his heels, calling down the passageway for him to slow down.

  As the door closed softly, Amiria turned once more into Dristan’s arms. “We will have no peace once Patrick’s feet hit the sand you know. He just loves the ocean.”

  Dristan chuckled. “He’s a good lad and in truth had more patience than I ever would to sit as long as he did. I thought he deserved a reprieve.”

  “You are good with him, and Lynet of course.”

  He reached out and smoothed her fallen hair back from her face. “Well, they are to be my family, are they not? I could do nothing less than see to their care, now could I?”

  “Aye, my lord,” she whispered and closed her eyes as he again pressed a kiss upon her lips.

  “Now . . . did you in truth like the gift?” he said hopefully and watched her nod. “Good! Then go change. We will away and see how you improve with a lighter blade.”

  “As you wish, Dristan,” she said happily and leaned up to receive another of his kisses. He tightened his arms around her yet again, for he did not want to let go of this moment.

  Dristan finally pulled away but saw the look of regret in his lady’s eyes. “Go on now, you saucy wench, afore we disappoint the others and retire to my chamber for the afternoon instead.” He watched as she tossed him a look promising more to come later and with a light pat upon her bottom, Amiria laughed gaily, running from the solar.

  Dristan joined in her laughter, although he was now standing there alone with his idle thoughts. Raking his hand through his hair, he went to the door to head down to the stables and caught a fleeting glimpse of blue gown as Amiria entered her chamber at the end of the long passageway. God . . . what a woman.

  The day could not have been any more spectacular if she had planned it herself . . . well with the exception of her current task at hand. Amiria once more sat in Dristan’s solar, only this time she was making an attempt at mending his hose. That she would indulge in such a mindless endeavor said much for her change of heart of late. True, darning was not her strongest asset but ’twas either mend the small hole or sew an entire new garment. ’Twas really no other choice as the latter would indeed take much longer.

  So here she contently sat in a comfortable chair on top of a very lovely cushion Dristan had provided for her comfort. Who would have ever thought such a thing could happen from a man with the fiercest of reputations, spanning both England, France, and possibly farther abroad? But here she was, sitting next to Dristan, who was busily sharpening a dirk he had found to his liking from the armory. From his expression, he appeared as if he was about finished with the task, for he began to repeatedly flip the blade end over end, testing its weight in the palm of his hand.

  Returning to her mending, she smiled in remembrance of their afternoon sojourn to the beach. It genuinely had been a lovely day, although it had turned out that others had joined their party at the seashore. She should not have been surprised that Dristan’s guard had joined them along with her own. Apparently, even this close to the keep, the loyal knights, were determined to guard those whom they had vowed to protect.

  Amiria had taken special care to look for Sabina but she had been nowhere to be found. Her disappearances had almost become the norm these days, so her grumbles had not soured or spoiled their outing. Although she did worry about her sister, Amiria was resolved she and her family would take pleasure in the afternoon.

  Lynet and Patrick had immediately dashed to the ocean’s edge and Amiria still laughed at the memory when Patrick’s little boots went sailing into the air as he made a leap towards the waves. Ian had not been far behind the boy, and between him and Lynet, they kept Patrick out of trouble, much to the dismay of her brother. Still, ’twas a refreshing change to hear his squeals of delight whilst he raced along the shore, trying to catch the tide.

  Cook had provided a most adequate repast for them whilst she and Dristan sat and spoke of small things about each other’s lives. Sometimes, Amiria’s eyes darted to and fro with the hope no other had overheard her words to the man sitting beside her on a blanket, behaving as if he absorbed her every word. With their privacy ensured for the most part, considering their guards were standing vigil not far away, they had whiled away the day at one another’s side.

  They had walked the strand for some time, and she felt a wonderful sensation, holding on to the strength of his arm. Dristan had brought her new sword. She had kicked off her boots, much like her brother, and felt the sand between her toes. Then she had brought the blade up, and they had taunted and challenged one another playfully. On more than one occasion, she had noticed, he stared at her most attentively, causing her to blush repeatedly. A continuous smile had lit his features and ’twas a welcome change from his usually gruff demeanor whilst in the presence of his men. The happiness he must have been feeling reached into the very depths of those incredibly mysterious eyes of his that constantly fascinated her. For the moment, she had been content, and so, it appeared, had he.

  When they had returned from their stroll, the others were beginning to gather their belongings to return to the keep since dusk was fast approaching. With Kenna at his side, Geoffrey had been gently assisted onto his horse. Dristan had said earlier that day he would not coddle a knight of his, and Geoffrey should begin to exercise his leg lest he cared to only have a stump to limp about on. Amiria had caught Ian watching her as he kept close watch on Patrick but noticed the resolve now imbedded in the hazel of his eyes. It had saddened her to observe such a look, but she was determined to move forward with her future, a future that would forever be entwined with Dristan’s.

  She felt the intensity of Dristan’s gaze come upon her as she returned to the present and looked up from her stitchery. ’Twas most mesmerizing, and she quickly felt the heat of desire rushing to her face. The room once again seemed overly h
ot but it had nothing to do with the flames in the hearth for they were at their lowest. Her cheeks burnt along with the rest of her body. He spoke no words as he rose and came to her. Perchance none were actually necessary. Taking hands, they left the solar and made their way to his chamber.

  As she was ushered gently into the room, she turned back towards him and gave him her most warmhearted smile. He said not a word but firmly shut the door, closing out the world behind them. After all, there were more important matters that required his immediate, and most assuredly, complete attention.

  Dristan came to her side with a powerful stride that was overwhelming to her already shaky senses. Amiria more than willingly met him half way with a promise shining in her own eyes as she welcomed him most affectionately into her arms.

  Time had no meaning and stood still. Nothing existed but the two of them as their limbs became intertwined together in a dance of love. They became as one, for it seemed that where one ended the other began, as they were consumed in the pleasure of the spell that had been woven about them.

  For unbeknownst to Dristan, his heady kisses whilst he took her gave way to a sensation as if Amiria was soaring up like an angel taking flight into the heavens. Higher and higher did he send her ’til the world as she knew it shattered along with any barriers she held around her heart. She cried out his name, breaking the silence from the still of the night.

  Ever so slowly did she drift back down to the reality of her earthly form, and the peacefulness surrounding her was found in the man whose comforting arms held her close to his side. She leaned back to view his face and smiled upon him. His returning grin sealed his fate as she snuggled deep into the very warmth of him. With a heavy sigh of happiness, Amiria now readily accepted him, not only into her heart for this one evening, but for all time. Aye . . . she was indeed most willing to now become his wife.

  Twenty-nine

  “Take this to King Henry and hand it to no other,” Hugh ordered the knight standing afore him. “Do not fail me!”

  “Aye, Sir Hugh,” the man said with a short bow afore running towards his horse. He leapt into the saddle with a mighty swiftness like the devil himself was chasing after him. The messenger never gazed back as he galloped out into the cold starry night.

  Hugh turned to the group of men who huddled near the fire, trying to find some warmth from the flames. He stooped down, grabbed another couple of logs, and threw them into the pit. The small sparks flittered upwards, disappearing into the evening sky. A mug was given to him and he downed its contents whilst his cousin stood beside him, perusing him warily in silence.

  “What?” Hugh asked, clearly annoyed at the silence between them.

  “The king, Hugh?” Gilbert questioned shortly. “Are you out of your mind? Why would you get the king involved?”

  “The keep should be mine. I shall show King Henry how Dristan is not fit to see to such an important holding as Berwyck,” he declared sullenly.

  “Damnation Hugh! I swear you shall see us all dead with this scheme of yours,” Gilbert protested.

  “Do not question my motives again. Cousin or no, I will let no man stand in my way in my desires to have the keep!” Hugh warned, and flicked his wrist to dismiss the irritating man afore him. His patience at an end, he began to pace back and forth, muttering all along about life’s injustice and how he would prove his worth to the king and earn himself a title.

  There was only the briefest of an instant where Hugh’s thoughts went to Sabina afore turning to her sister. With the coolness of the evening sharpening his senses, he went to sit and warm himself by the fire. His demeanor sparkled in pleasure, thinking of all the ways he envisioned taking Amiria once she was beneath him in his bed.

  Aye, Berwyck Castle would belong to him, and all would be calling him Lord Hugh afore the fortnight was over. He could hardly wait ’til he took the keep as his own, but more importantly made his claim on a certain red haired hellcat. With his vile mirth ringing out into the forest, he turned from the fire and bedded down most contently for what remained of the night.

  Gilbert threw up his hands in disgust and went to find a place to make his bed whilst trying to digest what he had gotten himself into. He scrutinized Hugh whilst his cousin at last quit his frantic pacing and lay down next to the fire. He groaned out loud. There was nothing to gain from sending a missive to the king except mayhap a noose stretched tight about one’s neck!

  His unrelenting scrutiny of the dilemma gave him no answers, as he tossed sticks into the quickly disintegrating red hot orange flames at his feet. Mayhap I should head to France, he mulled over to himself. At least there he would have a ready wench to serve his needs and no cousin grumbling about the unfairness of his sorry life.

  Good Lord above! May the saints save and preserve me from my imbecile of a cousin, he thought, cringing. A message to the king indeed. A cold chill blew across the back of Gilbert’s neck and raced down his spine like the forewarning of an executioner’s axe in his near future. With a bit of luck and fortune on his side, mayhap they would show some leniency and he would not, at the very least, have to dig his own grave.

  “Sabina, come to bed.” Lynet stifled a yawn as she called to her. “’Tis late.”

  “Leave me be!” Sabina cried out. “I need not you or any other telling me what to do!”

  “I was only trying to help, so suit yourself. I care not if you do not rest properly,” Lynet said, turning on her side, away from her sibling. She punched her pillow and closed her eyes.

  “Go to sleep,” Sabina muttered, annoyed she still shared a chamber with her sister.

  She began to rock back and forth on the stool she was perched upon as if that would help solve the problem of having a child growing within her and still being unwed. She must have speech with Hugh afore any further time comes to pass. Wringing her hands together, over and over again, brought her no answers. She was aware Hugh had left the keep for parts unknown. Surely someone must know of his whereabouts.

  Tomorrow, I shall find him, she thought, as her mind schemed to bring him to heel and do what was right by her and her babe. He was a knight after all. Surely he would keep his oath to protect those under his care. Did knights now make such a solemn vow upon their knighthood to do such rot? She scratched her head in indecision on what path to take to bring him to wed with her.

  As she crawled between the covers next to her sister, it never occurred to Sabina that Hugh would not want to claim her as his bride. She closed her eyes with visions of Hugh as her husband and the joy she would see in him when he learned of their child.

  Thirty

  Firelight lit the chamber and warmed the room to the occupants within whilst the logs in the hearth crackled and hissed as they burnt brightly. Dristan’s deep rumbling chuckle erupted from the bed where the flickering shadows of the couple who sat there reflected upon the nearby wall.

  “Aye, you may laugh, my lord, but I did not find the jest humorous at the time,” Amiria said shortly. She watched as Dristan looked down upon their repast, spread out between them, then offered her a bite of cheese, mayhap as a peace offering. Her brow raised and then she laughed. “Well . . . perchance there was humor to be found after all.”

  “Think you Cook will ever again provide us another decent meal once he learns we have pilfered and raided the larder this eve?” Dristan drawled casually. “I have become quite fond of the fare to be found at our table. ’Tis the best I’ve ever tasted, truth be told.”

  “’Tis your larder, Dristan, so who is Cook to gainsay you?” Amiria chided. “What we should be worrying about is that the king does not learn such a marvel can be found in the kitchens at Berwyck. Otherwise, we shall have nothing left in the cellars to see us through the coming winter if he and his retainers come to grace us with their almighty presence.”

  She bit into an apple and offered him a bite, which he took. She licked her lips hastily as the juice threatened to run down her chin. Just as quickly, Dristan leaned over towards
her and kissed her lips. Surprised, she sat there in wonder not sure how she should respond.

  “Delicious,” he replied with a glint in his eyes.

  “Aye,” she whispered softly,” the apple is most sweet.”

  Dristan watched her for several moments ’til he reached up to toy with a lock of her hair. “Aye, that too.”

  Amiria blushed, for his words were like a caress to her very soul. “You tease me, my lord,” she said ever so quietly.

  He reached over and tucked the stray wisp behind her ear, as the covering that had been draped around his hips dropped dangerously low. Her heartbeat quickened. She tried to remain aloof to the feelings he stirred in her, especially since he made no move to alter the blanket. ’Twas obvious from his relaxed demeanor that modesty was not a problem for him, for he comfortably lounged there on the bed as if he cared not whether he was clothed or not in her presence.

  Trying to distract her roaming thoughts, when he leisurely leaned back upon the pillows whilst still casually observing her, she began to tidy up their meal and took the remains to a nearby table. She poured wine into a chalice and took a sip to calm herself, knowing there was not much left to do but return to his side.

  Dristan waited for her in silence. The intensity of his gaze scorched her to her very core like a fire tickling greedily at her feet. She was not used to having such admiring looks from men, yet his eyes seemed to smolder in his desire to have her yet again. She thought perchance a lifetime looking at this magnificent man may not be long enough to satisfy the yearning she felt for him. But what of his heart, her soul whispered of her own desire to have the one she wed love her. As yet, she had no answer to her unspoken question.

  He leaned up on one elbow and pulled the coverlet down, holding out his hand for her to rejoin him. Amiria hesitated only briefly, and he brought her close to his side.