Master of the dawn, p.16
Master of the Dawn, page 16
It was pleasure beyond compare.
Lorica was slick, and Galen used that to his advantage, thrusting into her repeatedly until her virginal walls surrendered to him. The thighs that had given him such trouble were now rubbing up against his hips, and she was growing more curious as her hands began to move over his back. Her soft, curious fingers threw him over the edge, and he began to move in and out of her firmly, his hips doing the work; their bodies slapped every time they came together. Galen’s mouth was on her neck, her cheek, and he realized there was nothing about her that wasn’t delectable. Soft whispers filled her ear, his telling her how sweet she tasted and how beautiful she was.
He’d never meant anything so much in his entire life.
His pace quickened, but his release wasn’t close. The wine had given him the ability to last a long time, and he had no real concept of just how long he thrust into her. All he knew was that it was an emotional experience as well as a physical one. He’d never made love to anyone he truly cared about, at least not like this.
This was something completely unexpected.
But his release did come, and when it did, it was of epic proportion. His entire body was tense, and a burst of stars spread out in his loins and belly. A few more thrusts and he released his seed deep into her body, groaning with the pure satisfaction of it. Even after he climaxed, he continued to move for the pure joy of it, and, soon enough, he could feel Lorica’s body tighten around him with her first release.
The air of the darkened chamber was filled with her gasps as Lorica was swept up in something she’d never experienced before. Galen pulled her into his arms as she convulsed with pleasure. It was incredibly arousing, but, more than that, he felt contentment as he’d never felt in his life. He had never known such utter fulfillment, and, even after her tremors had calmed, he continued to hold her against him, his body still embedded in hers, listening to the faint roar of the common room and thinking that the decision to marry Lorica had been the best decision he’d ever made.
Or, more correctly, his father had made.
As it turned out, Romney had known what was best for him.
They fell into an exhausted sleep, and morning was upon them before they realized it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The witch’s fart fog was also in Wensleydale, evidently.
That was what Lenox had commented on as he, Galen, Lorica, and Artie made their way to St. Nicholas Court Castle from the inn where they’d all spent a cozy night. As Lorica rode behind her husband, she listened to Lenox tell of a legend alleging that fog was actually the farts of witches, meant to confuse and subdue men. It was an elaborate tale that made little sense, but it was entertaining.
Galen listened with a smile playing on his lips, feeling Lorica giggle because she was pressed against his back as she held on to him.
It was the best feeling in the world.
“You are mad, Lenox de Reyne,” Lorica said. “That is the most ridiculous legend I have ever heard of.”
Lenox appeared wounded. “May I be struck dead if it is not true,” he said. Then he looked around, grinning. “See? I was not struck dead. It is true.”
Lorica snickered, rolling her eyes at the man. “Would you be offended if I said I do not believe you?”
“Are you saying that you doubt my word?”
“I think that is what I am saying, aye.”
Lenox looked at Galen. “Are you going to let your wife disparage me so?”
Galen cast him a long glance. “Not only will I allow it, I will join in,” he said. “You are a liar, de Reyne.”
Lenox’s eyes widened with feigned outrage. “God did not strike me down, so it is all true,” he insisted. “Now you’ve hurt my feelings. I may go off and cry.”
“Good,” Galen said. “But meet us at St. Nicholas Court as soon as you recover.”
“I may never recover.”
“Christ, de Reyne,” Artie muttered from behind. “Does the saddle hurt your woman’s center too terribly as you ride? Take care that it does not damage your womb, you fragile blossom.”
It was a rather lewd insult, but Lorica burst out laughing as Galen glared at Artie. “You will not speak of such things in front of my wife,” he said. “Take care of the delicate ears around you, Artie.”
Properly contrite, Artie looked at Lorica. “Forgive me, Lady Burleson,” he said. “But Lenox forces me to say things I would not normally say in front of a woman.”
Galen geared up for a scolding, but Lorica stopped him. “I’ve heard worse insults,” she said. “He is not to be chastised.”
Galen couldn’t see her from where she was sitting behind him, but he tried. “Worse insults?” he repeated. “Who is saying such things in your presence? Tell me this instant so that I may punish them.”
She grinned at him, patting him gently on the back. “No need,” she said. “Mayhap this is something else you should learn about me. Arrogant men offend me greatly, but silly and sometimes vulgar insults do not. I find them humorous.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “It is unseemly for a woman to think so.”
“I know.”
“For shame.”
“Truly, it is.”
She chuckled as he fought off a grin and faced forward. The woman had a witty sense of humor, and he was coming to enjoy that greatly.
St. Nicholas Court was coming into view, off in the distance and set among the green and verdant dale. The fog lay on the ground for the most part, with the castle rising out of it, making it look as if the structure was sitting in the clouds.
Lorica caught sight of her ancestral home, wondering what she was going to be facing upon her return. Where her father was concerned, she could only imagine. She tried not to let her good humor fade as she thought on what they were about to face.
“Do you plan on asking for my dowry the moment we return?” she asked Galen.
He, too, was watching the approaching castle. “Aye,” he said. “It is quite possible, however, that he will deny me. If that is the case, then I have little recourse.”
“I know,” she said softly. “You can always use… leverage.”
“What leverage?”
“Tell him that you will follow through on telling his allies of his poverty,” she said. “My father’s pride means a great deal to him. Threaten the pride and he’ll do almost anything.”
He thought on that for a moment. “You have a ruthless streak in you, Lady Burleson,” he said quietly. “I like it.”
She smiled reluctantly. “That is not a virtue, Galen.”
“It is to me.”
She chuckled softly, and he smiled, patting the hands that were clasped around his trim torso. “Something more we have learned about one another,” she said. “You have learned that I am not above coercion, and I have learned that you like it.”
In response, he lifted one of her hands and kissed it before tucking it back around his waist. “I think it is more to the point that I like you,” he said. “Or did you miss that part?
“I think I missed it.”
“Now you know.”
“Indeed I do.”
“I hope it pleases you.”
“More than you know.”
It was a sweet moment. He kissed her hand again, but this time when he returned it to his waist, he held her fingers tightly. Lorica’s heart was as light as a feather, soaring with joy in ways she never knew possible. This marriage she had dreaded, to a man from whom she’d only known conflict, had become something sweet and pleasant.
She’d never imagined she could feel such things.
After their evening last night and the passion she’d experienced, they’d awoken in each other’s arms. In fact, Lorica had no idea how long Galen had actually been awake, because when she opened her eyes, she found him looking at her. When she apologized for oversleeping, as the sun was coming up, he simply smiled and kissed her on the nose, which led to him kissing her on the mouth, which ultimately led to him taking her again.
Chills ran up her spine simply from thinking on it.
He’d taken his care with her, aware that she would be tender from their first encounter, but she’d given in to him willingly. She had indeed been rather tender, but that didn’t take away from the pleasure she’d felt. He’d been a bit of a teacher, too, showing her where to touch him that gave him pleasure, while he, in turn, touched her in places that made her quiver. It had been a delightful and intimate moment between them, only interrupted when Lenox pounded on the door to ensure they were awake.
With regret, they’d risen and dressed, with Lorica wearing a simple dress she’d packed in her satchel. It was a shade of lavender, made from broadcloth, and Galen proclaimed she had never looked more beautiful. The man was a flatterer, but she loved to hear it from him. He made her feel appreciated and respected, not simply worshipped or idolized, as so many of her suitors had done.
With Galen, it was completely different.
He was different.
As they approached St. Nicholas Court, they could hear the shouts of the sentries. There seemed to be quite a bit of activity going on, and Lorica braced herself. Now was the moment of truth. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see her father running from the gate toward them, sword drawn.
As they came closer, the enormous portcullis did indeed lift. Here he comes, Lorica thought. But several seconds passed and Everard was not forthcoming. She did catch sight of a pair of figures in the gatehouse, however, and just as they reached the open portcullis, Walter stepped through with Griffin right behind him.
That brought a distinct measure of surprise from both Lorica and Galen.
In fact, Galen was focused on Griffin.
“If you’ve come to fight me, at least let me move Lorica out of the way,” he said steadily. “I was not aware that de la Beauvriere was going to release you from the vault anytime soon.”
Griffin looked gray and drawn. “I am not here to fight you,” he said, and his gaze then moved to Lorica seated behind Galen on the horse. “I’ve been released out of necessity because there is no one else to command the castle.”
“I released him, my lord,” Walter said, looking equally pale and exhausted. “Forgive me, but it was necessary.”
Galen didn’t know who the second man was, so he was mostly speaking to Griffin. “Why?” he said.
Griffin didn’t hesitate. “Because Lord Everard is dead.”
That wasn’t something Lorica had expected to hear. In fact, it was the furthest thing from her mind, but Griffin’s dully spoken words hit her like a hammer, and she heard herself shriek. The next she realized, she was off the horse, heading in Griffin’s direction.
“What?” she cried. “What did you say? What happened to my father?”
Because she had dismounted, Galen dismounted. Lorica reached out to grab Griffin’s arm in a gesture of sheer shock as Galen came up behind her.
“He killed himself, my lady,” Griffin said. “When the family returned after your marriage, he went into his solar and cut his wrists. We did not find him until this morning, when his servant went to bring him some food.”
Lorica’s hands flew to her mouth as Galen reached out to steady her. “Nay!” she gasped. “It cannot be true! It must not be true.”
Griffin was wholly unemotional about the entire event, cold, even, but perhaps there was some sense of satisfaction in causing Lorica pain when she’d caused him so much of it.
“It is true,” he said. “We have moved your father’s body to the vault for now. But you should also be aware that your mother, upon hearing the news, fled. I do not know where she has gone, for she did not tell anyone. She took her jewels and what garments she could carry and left the castle. I am in command now, purely because there is no one else, and your sister has not yet risen this morning, so she does not know of the events. It is unfortunate that you have returned to chaos, but mayhap that is to be expected after what happened yesterday.” He meant the marriage and the arrival of Galen.
As Lorica cried out and broke from Galen’s grasp, running for the keep, Galen lashed out a massive fist and caught Griffin on the jaw. The man dropped like a stone, half-conscious, as Galen stood over him, hulking and furious.
“That is for telling my wife of her father’s death so cruelly,” he growled. “Say what you will about me. I do not care. But treat her with a lack of respect again and I will beat you until you bleed. Anything less than perfect, compassionate control from you where it pertains to Lorica will be met with my wrath. Is this in any way unclear, de Gregory?”
Griffin was only semi-alert, hearing bells in his ears and seeing stars. All he could do was grunt, and Galen took it as an affirmative of his understanding of what he’d been told.
Furious, Galen looked at the second man. “Who are you?” he demanded.
“Walter Staveley, my lord,” Walter said, terrified he was going to be the next one on the ground. “I am… was… Lord Everard’s majordomo. We’ve not yet had the pleasure of meeting officially.”
There was no pleasure to it, as far as Galen was concerned.
As he and Lenox headed into the castle after Lorica, Artie remained with Griffin, kicking the man in the kidney for good measure just to make it hurt. They’d all had enough of Griffin and his wounded pride.
With Artie tending the downed knight, Galen and Lenox dashed into the bailey in time to see Lorica disappear into the keep. Galen grabbed Lenox by the arm.
“I cannot guess how the army is taking the death of Everard, so I will need you to reassure them that I am in command now,” he said quickly. “De Gregory… get that man into his quarters and keep him there. I do not want him running about because, knowing him, he will cause an insurrection just to be spiteful. Everard is gone, Lorica is married, and there is nothing to keep his loyalty. I want you and Artie to lock him in his chamber and then reassure the army I am in command and all will be well. Find out what in the hell happened to Lorica’s mother, but above all else, make sure this castle is secure. Go.”
Lenox was off, and Galen began to run again, heading toward the keep. He was about a dozen yards away when he began to hear screaming, coming directly from the keep.
That only made him run faster.
By the time he hit the entry, the servants were in an uproar. They were panicking. Galen followed the sounds of the screaming only to find Lorica in Everard’s solar, hysterical over the sight of her father’s blood all over his table and the floor. Men had stepped in it, tracking bloody footprints everywhere.
Galen rushed into the chamber and grabbed Lorica, pulling her against his big body and away from the sight of all of the blood.
In his arms, she sobbed loudly. Galen was ushering her toward the door when Thelica suddenly appeared. The young woman had been awoken by the screaming and had no idea what was going on, but when she stood in the doorway and saw the blood, she began screaming too.
Galen took them both in his arms, escorting them back up the stairs.
He had no idea where he was going, only that he was on the lookout for a private place where he could calm the sisters. At this point, any chamber would do, so the first one he came to was the one he chose. He took both of them inside and pushed them together so that they ended up hugging each other.
They could find the best comfort in each other.
Going back to shut the door, Galen stood back respectfully as the sisters expressed their grief. Thelica wanted to know why there was so much blood in their father’s solar, and Lorica couldn’t tell her, though she was trying. Taking pity on his wife, Galen pushed the women onto the nearest bed, forcing them both to sit, as he took a knee in front of them. Reaching out, he took their small hands in his big mitt.
“Ladies, listen to me,” he said in his gentle, deep voice. “Lorica, Thelica… look at me. That’s right. Now, listen: Lady Thelica, there has been a tragedy this morning. Your father has passed. I am sorry you had to see what was left behind, but know that Lorica and I are here now. We will not leave you alone, not for a moment. You will be safe and cared for, no matter what. Do you understand me?”
Thelica was a mess. Wiping her hand under her nose, she nodded as she struggled to calm down.
“What happened?” she asked, teary-eyed. “Was he murdered? Did someone kill him?”
Galen shook his head. “I am told that your father took his own life,” he said softly. “I do not know why or how, but I am going to find out, I promise.”
“But Mama?” Thelica said. “Where is Mama? Is she dead, too?”
He shook his head again, glancing at his wife as he spoke. “I do not know where she is,” he said. “But again, I will find out. I will discover everything that has happened here, but I need both of you to remain in this chamber and wait for me. Do not come looking for me; do not go outside wandering around. There is madness afoot here, and I do not want you caught up in it. I must know that you are both safe. Do you understand me?”
Lorica and Thelica nodded, then Thelica laid her head on her sister’s shoulder and wept softly. Fortunately, Lorica had calmed down a little, but she was looking at her husband with watery, red-rimmed eyes.
“Audrey and Casilda,” she whispered. “Please bring them here. They should be with us.”
Galen touched her cheek gently and stood up. “I will find them,” he said. “Do you know where they might be?”
“They should be in the chamber next door.”
He quit the chamber swiftly, returning a short time later with two very frightened young women. He brought them to Lorica and Thelica, and the tears started anew, at least for Thelica. Lorica left her sister sitting on the bed with the two wards, the three of them sobbing, as she went to her husband.
“My father,” she whispered tightly. “Will you see that he… he is…”
She couldn’t finish, but he knew what she meant. Bending down, he kissed her on the forehead. “I will ensure he is properly and respectfully stored,” he said quietly. “There is a great deal I need to do right now, so I need you to remain here. I’m not certain that there is not something sinister afoot here, and I would be crushed if you were to become caught up in it, so for your own sake and for mine, stay here and keep the door locked. Do not open it for anyone but me, Lenox, or Artie. Please?”
