Page 71 of The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past #4)

SIXTY-ONE

It wasn’t a long ride back to the keep, but it was a merry one.

Hugh, having drunk way more than his fair share, began to sing, and Adam and Guy joined in, making the night come alive with the sound of their voices.

Hugh and Guy had nice baritone voices, but it was Adam’s pure, childish voice that brought tears to Kate’s eyes.

How she wished she had a son to love and cherish.

Adam was so sweet, so kind. In a few years he would transition into manhood and lose the na?ve trust he had in all those around him, but tonight, he was still a boy who’d enjoyed his first grown-up evening.

“Well, I’m for my bed,” Eleanor announced as soon as they returned to the castle. “Adam, time to say good night.”

Adam didn’t need telling twice. He wasn’t accustomed to staying up so late or partaking in as much wine as he’d enjoyed this night.

Hugh looked the worse for wear as well. The drink had finally caught up with him, despite the sobering effects of the December night, and he staggered off after mumbling something about having to attend the St. Stephen’s Day service at church tomorrow, leaving Kate and Guy alone.

Kate was about to say good night when Guy bowed his head and pressed his fingers to his temples as he leaned against the wall for support. “Splitting headache,” he explained. “Too much mead.”

“I have some lavender oil that might help. I can rub it into your temples. Shall I get it?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Guy replied.

Kate retreated to her bedchamber to fetch the oil.

Hugh was sprawled on the great bed, his snores echoing off the stone walls of the room and his chest quaking with every rumble.

He was a deep sleeper, as a rule, but he’d consumed enough mead to fell an ox, and would probably sleep well into the next day before waking with a sore head.

He’d be as enraged as a bear at a baiting, especially once he recalled that St. Stephen’s Day was traditionally associated with the giving of alms and he would have to make a respectable donation to be distributed among the poor of the parish.

Hugh didn’t enjoy being charitable, nor did he honor the tradition of allowing the servants a day of leisure on December 26.

Since most servants served their masters on Christmas, the lords allowed them a day of rest and an opportunity to spend time with their families the day after, but since Joan, Alf, and Jed had been left to their own devices on Christmas while the family went to Stanwyck Hall, Hugh felt that was reward enough.

Only Walter was permitted a few days’ leave to visit his family.

Kate found the vial of oil and slipped out of the room.

The castle was quiet and dark, the flame from her candle the only pinprick of light in the impenetrable darkness of the spiral staircase.

Guy was sitting on his bed when she came in.

He’d removed his doublet and boots and was wearing only a shirt and breeches.

His hair was tousled, and his gaze clouded with pain and the effects of alcohol.

Kate approached the bed and positioned herself between Guy’s thighs, which were level with her waist. She dabbed a bit of oil on her fingertips and began to massage it into his temples, moving her fingers in slow, steady circles.

She thought he’d close his eyes, but instead he looked straight at her, his pupils dilated in the dim light of the room.

He hadn’t bothered to light any candles but had started a fire.

The hungry flames were already devouring the kindling and caressing the thicker logs as the fire began to take hold, gradually warming the room and making Kate feel pleasantly relaxed.

She was usually rigid with tension at bedtime, unsure of what Hugh’s mood would be like when he came to bed, but knowing that he was sound asleep on the floor below eased some of the strain in her neck and shoulders.

“Any better?” Kate’s voice came out in a whisper, as if she were afraid to be overhead, but she needn’t have bothered.

Guy’s bedchamber was the only occupied room on the upper floor, and with the dense silence of the slumbering keep and the howling of the wind outside, it was as if they were the only two people awake in the whole world, safe in their tower.

“Thank you,” Guy said softly. He reached up and took hold of her wrists, his touch gentle on the sprain she’d suffered a week ago.

He lowered her hands but didn’t release her.

Instead, he pulled her closer, bringing her face within an inch of his.

Their eyes met, his full of longing, hers wide with panic.

She knew she should pull away from him, cross to the other side of the room where she’d be safe, or better yet, wish him a good night, and return to her own bedchamber and her husband, but she wasn’t about to do any of those things.

Perhaps it was the effect of the drink, or the ever-present desperation that gnawed at her insides, but Guy’s nearness made her feel safe and loved.

She hadn’t even realized she’d leaned closer to him until his lips captured hers and his arm slid around her waist, pulling her against his chest. Guy’s kiss wasn’t tender or loving; it was demanding, hot, and full of desire.

Kate had never been kissed like that, not even in the early days of her marriage when Hugh had still played at being a lover.

Kate leaned into Guy, allowing herself this moment of abandon.

His kiss stripped away all reservations and doubts, leaving behind a need so powerful it frightened her.

A bud of desire bloomed in her belly, and the throbbing and moistness between her legs caught her by surprise.

This was unchartered territory, and she was lost in its magical terrain, desperate to learn its secrets.

Guy got to his feet and turned her around so her legs pressed against the bed.

He pushed her down with a gentle but firm hand, letting her know there was no going back.

The attraction between them had been simmering since the night they met, and after nearly four years of frustrated desire, it was about to boil over.

Guy pushed up Kate’s skirts, exposing her thighs and hips.

She’d never willingly opened up to Hugh, but now she spread her legs, offering herself up to Guy like a shameless wanton .

She expected him to use his fingers as Hugh sometimes did when she wasn’t ready for him, but Guy did something utterly unexpected.

He sank to his knees and buried his face between her legs, tasting and exploring her so intimately it made her legs tremble.

Her face felt flushed, and desire writhed in her belly and coiled like a snake as something unknown and primal built within her.

She grabbed Guy by the hair, forcing him to stop.

“Now. Please,” she begged. “I can’t take any more.”

Guy leaned over her. His eyes were hooded with desire and his lips tasted of her as he kissed her hard.

He stifled her cry with his mouth as he slid inside her, claiming her with one hard thrust. Her delicate tissue stretched around him as he filled the void inside her, making her feel whole for the first time in her adult life.

With Hugh, she always lay still, waiting for him to finish, but now she felt driven to lift her hips to meet Guy’s, desperate to take him in deeper and deeper until he slammed against her womb with every thrust, the exquisite combination of pleasure and pain finally pushing her over the edge.

Waves of unspeakable pleasure radiated from her core, pulsing around Guy’s shaft as he reached his own climax.

Guy rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed and his brow damp with perspiration. He remained inside her, their bodies joined as one.

“I love you, Kate,” he whispered. “I’ve loved you since I woke to find you praying over me in that ruined chapel.”

His eyes opened and searched hers, as though he needed to know she wasn’t sorry.

As Kate opened her mouth to reassure him, she realized she truly wasn’t.

She had no regrets. Not yet. She felt alive for the first time in years and the feeling was heady, and dangerous.

She knew she should go to church tomorrow, confess, and do penance, but she wasn’t repentant.

No number of Hail Marys would put out the fire in her soul or erase Guy from her heart.

Tomorrow, the harsh reality of her situation and the unbearable weight of her sin would reassert themselves, but tonight, she was free, and she was in love .

“You’re mine now,” Guy said as he rolled off her to take the strain off his right arm.

“I belong to Hugh. You know that,” Kate replied. The words felt wrong in her mouth, like bitter fruit that hadn’t ripened into something delicious, but this wasn’t a truth she could spit out. This particular reality had to be swallowed, every day of her life.

“Not for much longer.”

“What do you mean?”

“Will you leave him if I find a way for us to be together?” Guy demanded.

“I’m his wife.”

“Will you leave him?” he asked again.

Kate hesitated.

For only a moment, Guy’s eyes flashed with anger and hurt. “I won’t share you with him. Say the word and I’ll be gone by morning.”

Kate reached out and cupped Guy’s cheek, looking deep into the blue pools of his despair.

“Don’t go. Please,” she whispered. “I can’t go on without you.

I don’t know how. I hadn’t realized how empty I felt with you gone, how broken.

But what we’ve just done is a sin, in the eyes of God and man. We can’t love each other openly.”

“I would risk hell and damnation for even one more day with you,” Guy said.

“Hugh would kill us both if he found out,” Kate said, knowing it to be true.

“Aye, he would. But if I leave you again, I’ll be dead anyhow because I’d be leaving my heart here, and I can’t survive without it. ”

Kate allowed Guy to pull her close and rested her cheek against his chest. He was so solid, and so warm.

He held her against him, his limbs intertwined with hers, like two parts of one whole.

The beating of his heart was like the steady beat of a drum—a drum calling a soldier to war, for Guy had just declared war on his brother.