Page 33

It was the first time he’d groped her so, but he could no longer hold off from touching her, and after last night her response assured him he wouldn’t frighten her.

He wanted all of her. When she arched into his touch and melted against him with a whimper and a moan, he groaned again with delight, deepening the kiss.

His hips stirred against her belly, hot need coursing through him.

“Sarah,” he murmured between kisses, his lips tracing down her neck and back up to her ear where he nibbled it, causing her to shiver and arch her neck for more with a little mew of delight.

Every movement, gasp, and mewl from her sent more heat through his body.

He found her mouth again and kissed her deeply.

He could feed on her kisses for eternity and never be sated.

He wanted to lay her down on the grass and take her.

The impulse brought him to his senses with a jerk.

Reluctantly he broke the kiss, breathing quickly, as was she, he noted.

Her face was flushed, her eyes wide and dark, her lips pink and swollen.

He kissed her cheeks, forehead, chin, and nose, fighting to bring his raging lust back under control.

His cock was throbbing and leaking in his breeches, and his whole groin ached.

Fuck, he wanted her! The crude thought shocked him.

“Sarah, you are undoing me,” he confessed.

She stroked his face with one hand, and he leaned his cheek into her touch.

A warm tendril of an emotion he couldn’t name, beyond the fact that he liked it, curled through his chest. Her expression was softened, and there was a light in her sherry-colored eyes he’d not seen before.

It made his heart lift and beat more strongly. He turned his face to kiss her hand.

“A perfect day,” he murmured.

She reached up and kissed him softly on the lips, a chaste, closed-mouthed kiss, but the imprint of her touch still tingled all the way to his groin.

“Yes,” she said softly. Then an impish smile broke across her face, and she turned and ran, saying over her shoulder, “Catch me if you can!”

He gave chase with a growl and a wave of warmth washed over him for her playfulness.

He caught her within six yards and swept her up into his arms. “I told you I would carry you all the way to the bridge, my lady,” he said as she settled into his arms with a cry of delight and a giggle, her arms going round his neck.

*

Her heart was beating so fast she wouldn’t have been surprised if he could hear it. The flood of joy made her laugh out loud—she couldn’t contain it.

“Robert, this is ridiculous—I can walk!” She felt she should protest, but she secretly loved it.

She had never flirted and played like this before with a man, and the duke’s masculine strength, the hard lines of his body, his heat, his kisses, his obvious desire for her was making her drunk with happiness and an equally hot desire.

“This is your forfeit,” he said with a grin, but the softened light in his eyes made her heart turn over in her chest. Dear Lord, is there more to this than flirtation? A surge of longing for that to be true warred with fear that she was reading more into this lightness of spirit than was there.

He carried her easily to the old stone bridge that crossed the river and linked Littledon with its neighboring village of St. Swithin. He set her on her feet gently in the middle of the bridge and wrapped his arms around her waist to keep her close to him.

He kissed her nose and loosed one arm so that he could turn and survey the length of the river before and behind them.

“That is where the Monastery of St. Swithin is located,” she said, pointing to the other side of the bridge, and his gaze followed the direction of her arm.

“The monks still make and sell wine, and very good wine it is, too.” She leaned on the bridge rail and looked down at the water, her heart still racing.

He tightened his arm round her waist, drawing her closer against his side.

“You’re so different here at home, to what you are in London,” he said.

“Is that a good or a bad thing?” she asked with some trepidation.

“Good,” he said, bringing her chin round to face him. “I like big sister Sarah,” he grinned. Oh God, his eyes are so blue, I could drown in them.

“Well, you’re different, too,” she said with a smile, trying for light and playful, despite the thudding of her heart.

He looked down ruefully at the rocks below them, where the water ran, eddied, and splashed with the current. “You don’t like the duke much, do you?”

“I prefer you like this,” she admitted.

“I can’t get rid of the duke, you know. He’s part of me.”

“I know, but knowing there’s another side, a warmer one, makes him easier to accept.” She waited with bated breath to see how he took that. Would he be offended?

“I have a feeling you will bring out more of this side of me.” He leaned his chin into his hand, elbow propped on the rail, frowning abstractedly at the middle distance. “I never realized that was what I needed, but I think I do. Someone to balance me and challenge me. You do that.”

She gasped, a big wave of emotion taking her breath at this admission. “Th-thank you,” she said shakily.

He tightened his arm around her and then, straightening, pulled her round to kiss her. A light kiss, not the searing, knee weakening, devouring kisses of before. “Thank you ,” he said softly.

Oh God! She melted against him, burying her face in his jacket and he held her close in silence.

After a few moments, by common accord, they resumed their walk, making their way back toward the main street.

After supper that evening, Hepzibah very improperly begged the duke for a story.

It was a family tradition on Saturday nights for someone to tell a story for the edification of the rest. The only stipulation was that it had to be a new story, not one the family had heard before.

Sarah held her breath, hoping the duke wouldn’t refuse and squash Zibby.

He could be devastating when he got on his high horse.

He appeared flummoxed at first, but then something must have occurred to him because he said, “Very well, I shall tell you the story of my ancestor who was made a knight by William Conqueror for valor in the field of battle. How does that sound?”

This was greeted with shouts of glee from the boys and Zibby and murmurs of approbation from the girls.

The children gathered round his feet on the carpet and the rest of the family took up seats on the sofas and chairs in the front parlor. Sarah sat beside him on the couch beneath the window.

“My ancestor’s name was Alain de Launde, which in English means Alan of the Forest Glade.

Launde became anglicized as Layne in the twelfth century.

Alain came to England with William of Normandy and fought in the Battle of Hastings in 1066.

He was a part of William’s personal bodyguard; his role was to protect the standard-bearer who held William’s colors so that the troops would always know where he was on the field at any time.

“This was important for morale. The troops needed to know where their leader was and that he was still fighting, for if he went down or fled, they would also flee the field.

“Alain was young and fit and strong. In those days they fought in heavy chainmail, with bucket helmets on their heads, and they held great swords that took two hands to wield. I have some examples of these at The Castle that I can show you when you come for the wedding.” He smiled at the reaction he got from the boys to this.

“Really, sir?” Emanuel leaned forward, his eyes shining. “Jolly good! You hear that, chaps—real swords and armor!” Japh gave a whoop, and Zeke, not to be outdone, bounced in his place.

Sarah smiled. The boys had been somewhat reluctant at the prospect of participating in a wedding, which to Emanuel’s way of thinking was poor sport.

Robert had just made the prospective trip exciting for them.

She was grateful and reached surreptitiously for his hand to squeeze in thanks.

He glanced at her and smiled, squeezing her hand back.

“The battle was thick and fast, for King Harold’s troops were not giving up without a fight, even though they were composed mostly of infantry and archers, whereas William’s had much more mounted cavalry.

The French cause seemed to be hopeless until William gave the order to retreat.

It was a feint, for once the French had the English broken up, chasing them from the field, they turned and annihilated them, the advantage of the cavalry being able to run down and trample the foot soldiers beneath the hooves of the French horses.

“It was during the mock flight that my ancestor proved his mettle. The English targeted William’s bodyguard, and in particular the standard-bearer.

Alain fought off three Englishmen who tried to bring down the standard-bearer and saved William’s colors when the man was stabbed in the arm.

He not only raised the wavering flag above the throng, but kept it up while he got the injured man to safety.

And he was able to hand the flag to another man and continue his fight to protect the colors of the Duke of Normandy, who would be crowned King of England at Christmas that year. ”

The boy’s noises of approval at this stirring tale of valor make the duke grin.

“Alain was knighted for his deeds that day and given the hand of an English duke’s daughter. Her name, alas, is lost to history, but by all accounts, she bore him six children who lived, so it is to be hoped they were happy.”

The boys had many questions, which the duke did his best to answer, then the children were sent off to bed and the adults settled to a game of speculation followed by a tea tray.

When the duke rose to take his leave, Sarah accompanied him outside for a farewell and was unsurprised to be kissed again under the moonlight on the front porch.

It seemed Robert would take every opportunity he could to kiss her.

She wasn’t inclined to deny him after such a spectacularly successful day. Her heart was full.

“Thank you for that story. How much of it was true?”

“The bare bones are true as far as we know. It’s folklore in the family, a story handed down from generation to generation.

No doubt it’s been embellished over the years and perhaps his feats of bravery have been exaggerated, but I like to think there is a grain of truth in it somewhere.

He must have done something to earn his knighthood and the hand of the duke’s daughter—that part at least is true. ”

“A pity we don’t know her name. So many of the women are lost to history.”

“Yes, that is a shame. Perhaps her name was Sarah, too?” he said whimsically. He kissed her again. “Thank you for a wonderful day, I have enjoyed myself immensely.”

She tightened her arms round his neck. “I have, too,” she admitted a little shyly. “I didn’t expect to enjoy sharing my family with you. I thought you would consider us country bumpkins,” she confessed.

“I may have done if they weren’t your family. But I hope I’d be too polite to show it. Given they are your family, I was determined to like them, though I found no determination was required. They are like you, refreshing and delightful. I look forward to sharing The Castle with them.”

She flushed with pleasure at this compliment. Even twenty-four hours ago she would not have believed they could be so in harmony as they were now. Would it last? Or would they slip back to bickering and awkwardness?

“You may regret that promise to show the boys your armory. They will plague you to death, you realize.”

“Aye, but I was a boy once, too, you know. My brothers and I played with that armor and those swords, just as generations of Layne boys have before us.”

“You had a happy childhood?”

“By and large, yes. I told you once that I was a privileged person, and I meant that in more ways than just my wealth and social standing. I have had precious little to complain of in my life. I have been very fortunate indeed.”

“Yet you’ve borne the brunt of responsibility for your family for years.”

“Who told you that?”

“Kenrick.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Well, I’m gratified he’s noticed.”

“He said you were irritatingly good or something to that effect!” she said with a smile.

“Yes, part of the burden of being the oldest, but you would understand that.”

“Yes, I do. We are surprisingly similar in that regard. I didn’t realize that at first.”

“Neither did I.” He nuzzled her hair with his nose and kissed it.

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Kenrick is like your father?”

“Yes, unfortunately. I loved my father, but he wasn’t the best with money. He’s the reason I was forced to seek a wealthy wife. And Kenrick is carrying on the family tradition of feckless behavior.”

“Perhaps a good woman will save him?”

“Maybe, but he can’t have you—you’re taken,” he said, his arms tightening round her. The slightly possessive note in his voice, coupled with the gesture, gave her a warm feeling in her belly.

A breeze picked up, rattling the leaves in the trees, and she shivered.

“You’re getting cold,” he said. “I’d best be going; I will see you in the morning. What delights have you got in store for me tomorrow?”

“It is Sunday, so we will be in church for most of it.”

“Oh yes, when does the service start?”

“The first one is at eight, the second at ten and there’s evensong at six. But we will have a big midday meal, usually a roast.”

He smiled, “I look forward to it.” he kissed her gently. “Goodnight, my sweet Sarah. Pleasant dreams.” He gave her one more kiss and let her go reluctantly.

She watched him walk out into the street and turn the corner to take him down the main street toward the Blue Boar.