Fly by Knight

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Fly by Knight ISBN 9781419915284 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Fly by Knight Copyright © 2008 Sahara Kelly Edited by Briana St. James. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication March 2008 With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/) This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

FLY BY KNIGHT

Sahara Kelly

Author’s Note Caesarean section births date back several thousand years. Although Caesar gave his name to the procedure, it is unlikely that he was actually born that way. However, the Latin verb caedere means “to cut” and is therefore likely to have been the basis for the word. A Catalan saint was recorded as being delivered by C-section in the eleventh century, although sadly—as in many such cases—his mother did not survive. Unfortunately, during medieval times, medical matters rested in the hands of men who knew little or nothing about a woman’s anatomy, preferring the leech and the Bible to solid physiological information. Thus, the first women to attempt delivery by Caesarean section often faced charges of witchcraft. After all, how else could they cut open a human body and save both mother and child if not guided by the Devil’s hand? It was an ongoing fight to educate physicians of the time, a battle engaged by wise women familiar with herbs and their uses versus men who believed a mere woman incapable of grasping complex medical concepts. Thank heavens matters have changed for the better. My son is living proof—a thriving young man delivered into this world by the same procedure that would have resulted in a charge of witchcraft several hundred years ago.

Fly by Knight

Prologue Danu stood on the parapet, watching the fog roll in from the sea, writhing along the land as if a living entity, seeking entrance to her stronghold. Weak rays of first light struggled to penetrate the thick clouds shrouding the castle. A sudden break in the thickness allowed her a glimpse of a ship riding the rough sea. Its hull tipped precariously to one side as the crew fought the heavy prevailing winds. She watched the ship for a few moments, but she had pressing matters to attend. After one hundred years of slumber she had awakened to find herself surrounded by the familiar sights of Grian Ròs Castle—Rock Rose Castle. It was just as she’d left it, a majestic stone monument to centuries of diligent service, nestled among the hazel, rowan and yew trees high atop the magical Isle of Sàbhail, known to most as the Isle of Rescue, off the west coast of Scotland. Her heart pounded harder and a sense of loss brought tears to her eyes. The Ancient Folk were gone. She was the last of her kind, born during a time when mankind was young and lived as one with the earth. It had been a time before gods. A time before the one god wiped out all false gods. A time before man separated himself from the truth of life. She glanced about the scene in front of her. Life had continued without her. For a moment she felt as if all she had done had been for naught. The world no longer remembered her and the Hussy warrior hunters. A deep sigh parted her lips. What had happened in the world to disturb her slumber? Her mind filled with memories. Ancient and painful. Painful because those she loved had passed on to the Netherworld. In this world, she was separated from them. From him. Danu let her gaze drink in the beauty of the Isle of Sàbhail. She’d first sought

5

Sahara Kelly

refuge when the world had lost its way, during the Dark Ages. A small smile parted her lips as she thought about Ragna, her true love. He’d been the first warrior she’d hunted. They had fought the dragon queen and saved the world from tyranny. Side by side. Sword by sword. Ragna had been hers and she’d pledged her heart to him for all eternity. She stretched out her arm, letting her fingers graze the marble column supporting the portico, and flattened her hand against the cold stone. Tears welled in her eyes. She pined for the world she so loved. The man she’d given her heart. The warrior she had hunted and found. That had been her gift to the world. Her unique ability to locate warriors in need or peril. But not just any warrior—a man destined to change the world for the better. Ragna had been the first. He remained the first and only in her heart. She stood in the late afternoon with a sense of loneliness chilling her. She was the last of a long line of Hussies. She alone was the keeper of the sacred duty. Trained to fight, trained to scry for those in need. She remembered it all. It was fresh in her mind as though it was just yesterday. After the dragon queen’s defeat, she established this magical fortress with never-ending mysteries. She’d created an army of Hussies. Trained in all the arts she knew and dispatched into the world to hunt and find the warrior destined to be their charge. She frowned at the fog rolling over the ocean. They were all gone. Not immortal like she. Tears tumbled down her cheeks. The longing for her beloved tore at her as though she’d witnessed his dying only moments earlier instead of hundreds of years. In her slumber she lived in the Netherworld with him. Why had she been torn from his arms and dragged back into this world? Why had she been awakened? “Ye must rebuild your army of Hussy warrior hunters, Danu,” came her guide’s soft voice drifting over her in the late afternoon breeze. “I was to sleep for eternity. I was not to be awakened.” She swiped the tears from her cheeks. 6

Fly by Knight

“Ye shall return to our world as promised. But the world of humankind is in need of warriors, Danu. The world needs the strength of Hussies.” Danu bowed her head, closing her eyes. Rebuilding her army would be more burdensome than the beginning. “I fought by the side of men in many battles as an equal. My Hussies fought by the side of their men. Does humankind still fight their wars as we did upon the ancient battlefields?” “Nay. Times have changed, Danu. The battles are just as important. Some will be upon battlefields as in the ancient times, while others shall be within personal strife. ’Tis a new world, Danu, but warriors are still warriors and Hussies are still Hussies.” “I was promised eternal rest,” she said, longing for Ragna. “The momentum we set the world upon should have sustained itself and fed humankind. My special assistance and that of my Hussy warrior hunters is no longer necessary.” “Ye are wrong. The world needs you. It needs the Hussies.” She lifted her head and looked past the ocean and to the mountain range. “Ye have been returned to your magical fortress. It has remained unchanged, still filled with never-ending mysteries. Serve the world this one last time, Danu, and ye shall be granted eternal rest. Ye shall dwell forever in the Netherworld with Ragna.” “How long?” she asked, knowing the answer before her guide responded. “As long as it takes, Danu,” came the expected answer. “Seek out one Hussy at a time. Selected for her specific abilities, match them to those of her charge and above all ensure a success of each mission.” “I know my duty,” she clipped, irritated with her guide’s attempt to inspire her to the challenge. “Ye are the last Hussy, Danu. Your Hussies shall do whatever is necessary to assist their warrior in defeating those forces threatening his pre-ordained destiny.”

7

Sahara Kelly

“’T’was easier back then, my faithful friend. Everyone knew what a Hussy warrior hunter was and women lined up to join my legion.” “Aye, they did, but ye were very selective when it came to the matter of choosing who to train and only a few emerged as Hussies.” Danu nodded. She’d selected them from scholars, teachers and healers. They were women of personal power who understood the importance of rescuing one man at a time in order to create a better world. They bore the title of Hussy with pride since it told all they were strong, independent women, capable and dedicated to their mission. To have a Hussy on your side meant certain success and victory over whatever battles must be fought. She gritted her teeth together. That time was over. She wanted to return home. “Ye must accept this challenge, Danu.” “But the Ancient Council of Life decreed our work was finished. It was time for rest.” She tried one last time to find a way out of the duty being forced upon her again. “’Tis true ye bade your Hussies farewell and laid yourself down to sleep a century ago. But the Council dinna expect the world would be thrown into war so many times over such a short span of history. We dinna foresee man developing marvelous means of transportation and communication, while simultaneously creating horrifying instruments of destruction. None of these things were in our minds when we agreed to let ye slumber and travel to the Netherworld to be with Ragna.” “I earned my rest. My Hussies earned their right to normal lives.” “And so they did, Danu. It’s their descendents ye must seek out to restore the tradition. Give them their birthrights and together, ye shall once more affect the world with positive changes.” “Why?” she insisted. “Why now? If the world has been ravaged by wars during my slumber, why dinna ye awaken me then?”

8

Fly by Knight

“The world is in a crisis, Danu. Mother Nature totters on the edge, threatening to abandon her throne. The Ancient Council of Life commanded the Wizard of Lore to awaken ye, Danu. Ye are needed by us all. Can ye deny such a request?” “Nay.” She shook her head with a feeling of defeat weakening her argument. “Excellent! Ye must become familiar with the customs and mores of the new world and master all its technologies. Ye shall need to incorporate these with your own magical powers. Only then shall ye become a formidable opponent to the evil forces determined to gain control over the world. Combined with the ancient knowledge and yer shape-shifting abilities, ye shall once more help set the destiny of humankind back on its proper course.” Danu nodded. So once more she was charged with locating Hussies and training them to be warrior hunters. “This shall be a difficult task, my honorable guide. These women have no knowledge of their ancestral calling. Not only do I need to rebuild my army but I will need to convince each recruit to embrace the noble cause and agree to be trained in the ancient ways of love and war.” “Aye, it shall take time to organize your Hussies, one woman at a time. Ye shall scry for each and summon her to your castle, here, on the Isle of Sàbhail. For it is under your guidance—and with your helping hand—that they shall form the modern Order of the Hussies. In the tradition of their ancestors, they shall strike out on missions to affect change in the world of humankind, assuring destiny is not denied its birthright.” “Enough of this. I shall see about this task. The sooner I am about it, the sooner I return to the Netherworld.” “So it shall be.” Danu felt the presence of her guide leave. Alone once more, she turned from the ocean to enter her castle.

9

Sahara Kelly

“I shall wait for ye, my love.” Ragna’s voice drifted over her as she closed the doors behind her. His deep brogue was faint and she knew the longer she remained in the earth plane, the veil separating both worlds would block her from hearing him. Ragna didn’t have the energy to cross over. He was mortal. He had been the first. He was forever the only man in her heart. “I’m so sorry I was pulled from ye without so much as a kiss goodbye,” she whispered. “Hurry back to me, my beloved Danu. I’m waiting.”

10

Fly by Knight

Chapter One Death. It was his for the taking. Staring at him, looking upon him with a face he recognized as his own reflected in the sharp blade of the dagger. It would be so simple. Just a quick slash at the long blue vein on his arm, opening it to eternity and draining his blood, his heartbeat, everything he was into a pool of red liquid that would so rapidly turn to rust and then dust. Poetic, effortless—yet apparently beyond his abilities to achieve. Baron Aubrey Thaxton, Knight of the Realm, sworn in fealty to the Earl of Hoddenbury and holder of the Thaxton fiefdom, was—at the very moment of his death—a coward. He gazed at the dagger as it lay along his skin, a contrast of sharp edges and smooth muscles. He was a knight, for God’s sake, a warrior who’d fought off rebellions next to his liege lord and friend, Geoffrey Hoddenbury. Those muscles lying beneath the blade had been earned by the wielding of a mighty sword at Geoffrey’s side. Together they’d held their shire, reinforcing its defenses, protecting it from invasion by marauding bands of Welsh mercenaries. And yet, with all that carnage behind him, Aubrey couldn’t quite manage to draw a single blade along his own arm and end his existence. Nor could he find the hatred in his heart for the man who had reduced him to this morbid state—Geoffrey. Tomorrow, there would be no hesitation. Aubrey would be taken from his tower room to a nearby cliff overlooking the valley and the river Brue. Thaxton Castle was prized for its position atop the hills that dominated the area, its walls falling to the ground and seeming to continue on as the ground itself fell hundreds of feet to the valley floor below. 11

Sahara Kelly

There, with a view that still took his breath away and possibly the distant scent of the ocean if the winds were right, Baron Aubrey Thaxton would be lashed to a wooden stake, surrounded by piles of branches and burned to death. As a witch. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. His life was going to end because of what he’d done. He’d saved lives. And thus he had to die. A harsh chuckle burst from his throat, a sound somewhere between a sob and a wry condemnation of all that was narrow-minded and ignorant. He took a breath and seized the dagger. By God, if he had to die, he’d do it his way, not at the whim of his onetime friend. A sound distracted him even as the point dipped into his flesh. The door was being unbarred, the heavy wooden beam lifted from the sturdy iron brackets. As it creaked wide, a small figure stumbled inside, burdened with a heavy tray and something draped over its arm. Aubrey vaguely recognized the scullion, the lowest of the low in the castle. He dredged up a name from the depths of his memory. “Mouse? Is that you?” The figure glanced at him, face filthy, hair hanging in greasy strands around its face. Then the lad dipped him a quick respectful nod. “Your meal, Lord.” He put the tray down on a low chest. “And I’m to take your clothes.” Aubrey shrugged. He’d been permitted to spend his imprisonment in a tower room with a bed and conveniences suitable to his station. Even the bath in which he now lazed had been permitted, since he refused to meet his maker covered in months of grime and smelling like a midden. But once a whisper of the charges laid against him had drifted through his home, the servants had turned a wild eye at him, crossing themselves and eventually refusing to wait upon him.

12

Fly by Knight

His needs had been left outside his door. Mouse was the first human who’d dared to venture into his room since the sentence had been passed. “You’re not afraid to be here.” It was a statement more than a question, since the lad was collecting the fine garments from the pile on the bed where Aubrey had tossed them. “No, Lord.” He pointed to a rough tunic and worn breeches. “These are for you.” “Will they fit?” Aubrey knew his size was above that of the normal man. “Wilfred the farmer is a big fellow.” “That he is.” Aubrey nodded. “And he has offered up his clothing for my death? Nice of him.” “He was suitably recompensed, I believe.” “I’ll wager he was—” Aubrey paused. “Mouse?” He looked up. “Your vocabulary is not that of a kitchen servant, you know.” Aubrey stared at the lad. There were only three tapers lit in the room and he could barely make out the figure. “Come here.” Mouse took one step forward. “Closer, lad.” Obediently, Mouse took one more step toward the tub. “You smell.” Aubrey wrinkled his nose. “My apologies, Lord. Not many of us enjoy the luxury of a private bath.” He glanced at the objects by Aubrey’s hand. “Nor fine milled soap and soft linens for drying.” Aubrey was truly intrigued. This Mouse, this lowly serf, was addressing him in a voice that was both cultured and educated. A surprise, to say the least of it. Perhaps there was one last mystery to be solved, one last challenge he could enjoy before the end of it all. 13

Sahara Kelly

Mouse’s next words set the seal on Aubrey’s determination. “If you are to end your existence, Lord, may I suggest a quick cut along the length of your arm? Both of them, in fact. The blood will flow quicker.” He gave a tiny shrug. “And if you do it over the water, then there will be less for the servants to clean up on the morrow.” Aubrey’s eyelids lowered a little, a movement that his fellow knights would recognize as Baron Thaxton at his most dangerous. “’Tis good advice, lad. If you’d pass me that towel so I can dry off the handle of this dagger…” Clearly responding to the voice of the lord, Mouse moved up to the rim of the large tub and reached for the folded linen. In a swift move, Aubrey had him by the neck, pulling him over the side of the hammered copper bath and into the water with a resounding splash. “Got you.” He felt his lips peel away from his teeth in a satisfied grin. “Now let’s see what we’ve caught, shall we?” Mouse struggled in vain against a hold that clamped down, yet refused to give up the fight, swamping little waves of water over the side of the tub as he tried to break free. “Stop it. I wish merely to wash off some of this filth.” Aubrey grabbed a small soapy cloth and began to scrub the slim figure one-handed. He started with the face, since getting a mouthful of bathwater was enough to keep anybody quiet, let alone a writhing handful of small servant. A ripping sound indicated the end of Mouse’s threadbare tunic and Aubrey tore at it, tossing it from the tub to the stone floor where it fell with a wet plop. Suddenly, Mouse sank almost to his nose beneath the water and froze. “For God’s sake, boy, I’m only going to wash you. You need this bath a hell of a lot more than I do.” Heedless of his nudity, Aubrey stepped from the tub and kept a wary eye on Mouse, who was now staring wide-eyed at him like some kind of strange fish. Other

14

Fly by Knight

than eyes and nose, there was nothing to be seen. Everything else was submerged beneath the milky bathwater. A breeze stirred the flickering tapers, the summer evening air blowing in with the soft scent of newly mown grass and the slight tang of the ocean. Aubrey ignored the waiting clothing and his own bare body, letting the droplets of water cascade around him as they willed. He was determined to clean this servant, driven by some desire to accomplish one final task. If he could die in a state of physical cleanliness, then it would be good to know that at least one person watching him burn on the morrow would be clean too. Plus there was the unanswered question about Mouse’s conversation. Ah well. Aubrey grinned as he lathered up a cloth with plenty of soap. There was nothing like a good scrubbing to loosen the tongue. At the very moment he began to apply his rough and ready cleansing techniques, Mouse blinked at him, eyes wide, body shivering a little and making ripples in the water. Aubrey’s hand paused and he reached forward, washing the face staring at him, rubbing the scented soap over grime and grease and then rinsing it away. He reached beneath the surface and grabbed a sharp chin, lifting it so that he could complete his job. Even as the face tilted upward, Aubrey felt an odd prickling at the back of his neck. He stared down, rinsing away the soap and the grime. The chamber was silent but for the slight lapping of the water in the bathtub. Eyes of a luminous green were fixed on him, wide and betraying something that wasn’t quite fear and wasn’t quite anger. Flecks of gold flared from large black pupils and a lacy frill of black lashes framed the whole. The skin he’d cleaned was pale, dotted with a few freckles here and there. The lips were rosy and full, the mouth wide.

15

Sahara Kelly

As knowledge crept up on Aubrey, he lathered Mouse’s hair, sweeping the heavy stuff free of dirt and bits of straw. Within moments, it lay heavily in his hand, a silken mass of darkness glimmering with fire. He rinsed and lathered and rinsed again, more and more certain of what he’d found. Finally, he sat back on his heels and stared for long moments at the figure in the bathwater. “Well, well. Mistress Mouse.” The figure in the tub shook her head in denial. “You’re mistaken, Lord.” “I think not.” He plunged his hand into the water, making Mouse gasp aloud as he found the cord securing her breeches and tore it away, nearly dunking her completely beneath the surface as she wriggled in an effort to avoid him. He pulled them free and dropped them on the tunic. “Stand up, if you dare. Prove me wrong.” He dipped his hand back into the water, swirling the lather around soft curves and delving between thighs that clamped shut around his wrist in an effort to preserve her modesty. She failed. Aubrey’s fingers felt soft curls, a mound of them, and beneath…the folds of flesh hiding her womanhood. He stroked once—twice—his cock hardening at what his eyes could not see but his touch recognized so well. Sputtering, Mouse glared at him, sparks of fury shooting from her eyes. Oh no, he’d not mistaken anything at all. He had a wet and naked and very angry female in his bathtub. Aubrey withdrew his arm and grinned. “I’m waiting.” Finally, she straightened a little. “Very well. You have discerned my secret.” She looked down her nose at him. “Since I’m in here and thoroughly wet, you might as well share the soap. It would be stupid to waste a good bath.”

16

Fly by Knight

Silently, Aubrey passed her the soap and watched in amazement as the slender Mouse bathed away the last of the dirt from her body without revealing anything more than a pair of white shoulders draped with black liquid ropes of hair. His mind turned over a variety of possibilities, a variety of scenarios. Why she was masquerading as a servant. Why she was pretending to be a boy. Why the hell she was here, now, tonight, in his chamber. None of his ideas made any sense at all. So he waited, patiently, ignoring his stiffening cock and the ember of lust that flared to life each time he thought he might glimpse more than just her neck. When she pulled the cloth beneath the surface and washed things he couldn’t see, he grew rock-hard. Apparently the thought of his imminent demise meant nothing to his manhood. That would function quite adequately right up to his last heartbeat. Finally, she was done. “A drying cloth, if you would be so kind.” The tone was not subservient, more that of a mistress ordering a maid. Aubrey found himself obediently reaching for the linens, then paused. He picked the smallest one he could find and moved the rest away from the bath. “Here.” He offered it to her with a polite smile. Her stare could have frozen an ocean. “Take it or sit there. Your choice.” He stood and stepped away. “Madam.”

***** With a deep breath, she stood, knowing his eyes would wander over her newly scrubbed body. She had to will herself to face him, to not blush or attempt to hide herself. This was all secondary to the reason she was here with him. She was going to save his life. If she managed to survive the next few moments without dying of embarrassment, of course… 17

Sahara Kelly

“Who are you?” His voice cracked into the silence, making her jump. “My name is Gwyneth Mor Hafren.” “You’re Welsh.” He snapped back the words and shifted, his body tensing, muscles rippling over his chest and shoulders as if readying for an attack. “I am.” She clutched the small piece of cloth to her belly and stepped awkwardly from the tub onto the cool flagstones. “But as you can clearly see, I’m unarmed at the moment.” She lifted an eyebrow at him wryly, reaching for a larger towel and wrapping it around herself. His eyes drifted obviously to her body. “I wouldn’t go quite that far.” The beginnings of a smile creased the corners of his mouth. “What you carry is far more devastating than any sword.” She ignored his jest. “I have reason for this pretense, Baron.” It was time to get down to business. “Mmm. I’m sure you do.” Gwyneth frowned. His mind didn’t seem to be on her words or the urgency of the situation. Instead, his gaze roamed her skin like a hot breeze. She cleared her throat. “In case you’d forgotten, you are to die tomorrow.” “Oh I haven’t forgotten.” He stepped closer. “I’m just thinking that now I can push it to the back of my mind for a while.” Gwyneth inhaled, which was a mistake. She caught his scent, soap, musk and something essentially male that had to be him. It lingered longer than it should have deep in her throat. She held up one hand to halt his progress, while keeping the cloth tight around her with the other. “You mistake my presence here.” “I do?” He ignored her attempts to divert him. Since he was stark naked, Gwyneth couldn’t overlook the fact that his personal lance was quite ready for action. Very ready.

18

Fly by Knight

She swallowed as a little shiver of arousal echoed from his body to hers. He was sleek, muscled, golden skinned and dark of hair, with eyes as blue as the sky. Not a hardship to gaze upon, as any woman with a heartbeat would surely agree. But she was not here in his chamber to satisfy his lusts. Or her own, come to think of it. Not that she would admit to having any, of course. Gwyneth didn’t lust. It wasn’t part of her character. She took a step backward, only to feel the copper tub against the backs of her thighs. “Baron Thaxton,” she began. “Call me Aubrey.” He was too close. Much too close. “Aubrey, then. We must talk.” “We will.” His arms reached out and, for some odd reason, Gwyneth found herself unable to move away from them. “We will talk, Madam. Afterward.” “Baron. Aubrey—” Gwyneth’s breath caught at the first brush of his palms against her naked skin. He was not going to stop, nor was he going to listen. This was very awkward indeed. Her brain whirled through a variety of ways to explain her presence. She had to make him understand how vital it was he listen to her. She had to tell him of her mission and how she could save his life. But he was so close now, his heat engulfing her, his lips, full and shining, so close to her face as he bent over her. His arms were around her body—how did that happen? He was hard against her softness, pressing her to him, crushing her hand between their flesh. One hand slid down her back to her buttocks and grabbed the cloth. His strength was controlled but evident as he quickly tugged the fabric from her grasp and threw it aside, leaving her naked in his embrace. Her heart thundered, and in a lightning-quick moment of bewilderment, Gwyneth wondered exactly when she’d lost sight of her mission. And her ability to speak

19

Sahara Kelly

coherently. Because she was forming words in her head, but nothing was coming out except a breathy moan as strong fingers caressed the curve of her bottom. Giving a mental shrug, Gwyneth decided to humor him. Perhaps one kiss would satisfy him. And her. After all, sexual matters were best left to mistresses, willing serving wenches or whores. She was none of those, nor was she a woman with lustful needs to be sated. One kiss. Just one quick kiss. Then they could get on with the important business of keeping him from his appointment with death. It was later, much later, when Gwyneth realized how very wrong she’d been.

20

Fly by Knight

Chapter Two Aubrey’s arousal was damn near painful, a sharp longing deep in his balls, a desperate desire to take this unexpected “gift” and put it—her—to good use. He tried to dismiss it as a last farewell to life, a way to face his mortality with the knowledge that at least he’d eased his manhood before he burned to death. But when his lips met hers, his mind blanked of all but the taste of her, the feel of her against him and a driving need to lose himself in her body. Her tiny moans battered at his ears and her beating heart throbbed against his chest as he moved them ever closer, tightly furled nipples digging into his skin. She was tentative, hesitant as he kissed her, but he felt her arms reach for him and land on his shoulders. His brushing embrace turned into more, much more. He licked at the seam of her mouth and she made a slight sound of pleasure as she parted her lips and granted him admittance. Aubrey stood, holding her, kissing her until he was deaf and blind. Heat rose from his toes to his eyebrows, swamping him in the silken feel of her cool flesh caressing his skin, the firm globes of her buttocks in his hands and the softness of her hair as he forced their bodies together. Lost in her, drowning in her mouth and her scent, Aubrey lifted her—crushing her against him and walking backward to the narrow pallet on which he’d spent so many long nights alone. Tonight, his last night, he wouldn’t be alone. He tumbled them down, landing on his back and rolling so that she ended beneath him, her legs wound around his hips, her mouth still devouring his. The tiny pinpricks of her nails against his shoulders drove him higher and he freed his arms only to reach 21

Sahara Kelly

for her breasts and cup them, squeezing and kneading them, then toying with the rigid buds at their tips. A whimper, a sigh and a gasp of pleasure told him she was responding to him, wildly and without inhibitions. He was caught off-guard by the need that arrowed through him, a need he’d not felt before. A need to not only sate himself in her slick dark places but a need to hold her, to claim her as his own. And what good it would do a man with less than twenty-four hours to live, he had no idea. But it was there, just the same. “Lord…Aubrey—” She lifted herself beneath him, parting her thighs, inviting him to take what he wanted, what they both wanted. “Yes, I know. Wait…” He eased back from her and slid down her body, caressing each inch of skin as he moved, licking and nipping around her breasts until he reached their peaks. He grazed one with his teeth, smiling around it as she yipped, then stifled the sound, as if unwilling to betray her pleasure. She didn’t need to. Aubrey knew she was there with him, eager and hungry as he for this sensual journey. Her scent bloomed strongly around him, her body moving in a silky wave of passion, undulating as her hips moved against him. He moved lower, ringing her navel with his tongue and noting the tiny ripples of excitement that flickered over her skin. Her hands found his hair, fisting in the tumbled mass and holding tightly. Perhaps she was afraid he’d leave her wanting. He chuckled silently to himself as he slid to her mound. All the devils in hell couldn’t pull him away from her now. She was his. His mouth slid down, down to that hot and slick place where folds of flesh waited eagerly for his attention. He gave it, taking as much pleasure from it as he delivered. Enjoying a woman this way was one of his particular skills, he believed. He loved to hear the whimpers and moans as he delved into those pink and honeyed crannies, teasing and tantalizing the little pearl, giving it an idea of what would follow. Gwyneth 22

Fly by Knight

tasted of flowers and soap and the tang of feminine heat that always lingered on Aubrey’s tongue and haunted him. For some reason, however, this particular pussy seemed more delectable than any he’d sampled in the past. More sweet to his taste buds, more suited to his mouth, his lips… He kissed and suckled and flicked his tongue over her, lapping at the juices flowing freely in response to his touch. She cried out softly as he hit one certain spot, her legs tensing around his shoulders, her heels lifting and digging into his spine. To his surprise, Aubrey found himself struggling with his control. Usually, he could prolong both their arousals, priding himself in a leisurely erotic play with his bedmate. But with Gwyneth, he seemed driven by a fundamental urge to be inside her—right now. He had lost the ability to pace himself, to take his time and finally bring them both to the peak. His patience had vanished, his need was overwhelming—he simply had to bury his cock in her or spend himself on the pallet. He groaned as he lifted away from her pussy and rose above her. “I need you now.” “Then take me now.” Her green eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed and her lips reddened and swollen from their kisses. She reached for him, spreading her thighs farther apart, telling him without more words how ready she was. He was already touching her, pressing the sensitive head of his cock between the boiling silk of her pussy lips, seeking that place that throbbed and wept tears of desire just for him. God, he hoped she wasn’t a virgin. He hadn’t even asked. What was the matter with him? This was utter madness… And as his cock entered her fully, the madness swamped his mind, drowning it with white hot sparks of incredible sensation.

23

Sahara Kelly

She was so snug, so slick, her fiery walls slithering along the length of him in welcome. Little ripples of pleasure caressed him as he plunged deeper and her legs gripped his body like bands of iron, pulling him tightly as he thrust. “Oh God…” She gasped as he seated himself, his balls touching her body, all the way inside her as deep as he could go. She’d taken all of him, willingly, eagerly, and he was not a small man. It was as if her cunt had been designed with his cock as the model. Each touch, each movement locked them closer together and when he began to slide back and forth inside her, softly at first, then with more power, she answered him with little writhing lifts and spasms of her own. Aubrey’s thin grasp on his control snapped as she whimpered beneath him, her mouth open, her eyes vague, yet fixed on his. He could sense her body readying itself, even as his own spine began that sharply wonderful tingle that signaled the beginning of his release. “Now, Lady. I have not the ability nor the strength to wait…” He gasped out the words as his hips hammered into her thighs, his balls hard and tight, his need choking the breath from his lungs. She answered him with her body. Convulsing and biting back a scream, Gwyneth came, great rolling waves of orgasm rippling through her and seizing his cock at the moment he thrust into her as deeply as he could possibly go. It was enough. He spent himself, rattling his back teeth with the force of his explosive spurts, emptying just about everything he had into her willing and trembling cunt. Her hands clenched his arms, her neck arched back and together they rode the wild and savage bucking of their bodies, echoing each other’s cries and stifled groans of release.

24

Fly by Knight

Collapsing at last, boneless and sated, Aubrey rolled to her side, panting and astonished at himself for the ferocity of his lusts. His cock fell from her pussy, sliding out on a stream of their juices. In spite of his confused thoughts, Aubrey smiled. He had well and truly fucked her, brought her pleasure as well as tending to his own. A job well done. He turned his head and touched her cheek. “Thank you.” She opened one green eye. “Yes. Well. It was a pleasure.” The eye shut and she heaved breath back into her lungs with a wheeze. “It was indeed.” Aubrey sighed. “A wonderful way to pass the last night of my life.” His words acted like a shower of cold water on Gwyneth. She gasped, sat upright and stared at him. “Oh my God. What are we doing? What did I do?” He lolled on the pillow and grinned at her. “Well, for a woman who wasn’t a virgin, that’s a rather silly question.” She waved away his jest. “I don’t mean that. I mean we are wasting time. Valuable time. And we don’t have much left.” She scrambled from the bed, cursed at the sticky moisture dappling her thighs and grabbed one of the wet cloths. It was cold and she winced as she cleaned away the remnants of their lovemaking. “My dear Gwyneth. Until they come for me at dawn, the night is mine to spend as I please. And I just pleased to spend myself in you.” He waggled his eyebrows. “That was a joke, in case you missed it.” She nearly growled. “Get dressed.” Glancing around, she noticed his options were few. “Put on those breeches. Since you ripped my garments to shreds, I’ll have to use the tunic I suppose.” Aubrey failed to move at her command. “Why can’t I put on my ordinary clothing?”

25

Sahara Kelly

“Because, you—you idiot, I’m here to rescue you.” Not fuck you. That thought followed her words but was quickly stifled. She struggled into the rough tunic, which fell almost to her ankles. It was meant for a man, not a slender woman. “Now do as I say.” Aubrey still rested comfortably on the pallet, a smirk curving those delectable lips of his. Gwyneth cursed once more at his immobility. “I’m not jesting, Baron. There is a way out. You must come. It’s imperative.” He chuckled. “I know. I already did. And trust me, it was imperative.” He stretched, all naked male muscle, a look of satisfaction on his features. “I rather enjoyed it, and if I’m correct, you did too.” “Aaargh.” Gwyneth squawked and threw the homespun breeches at him. “Put these on. Now.” Aubrey sighed and sat up, wrinkling his nose as he took the rough clothing. “Do you know you have a little birthmark on your backside?” He sat on the side of the bed and put his feet into the breeches. “It’s sort of like a dragon.” “No, it’s not.” She tied a piece of rope around her waist. “Yes, it is. I saw it. Just now when you bent over.” In spite of the growing sense of urgency, which had replaced her sensual mood, Gwyneth couldn’t help a blush. “You are mistaken.” She turned away from him. “Hurry up.” “I’m ready.” He’d finally put the damn breeches on, at least. Shoes. Dammit, he’d need something to protect his feet. She clenched her teeth. “You’ll have to put on those boots, I suppose. I didn’t want to take any of your clothing but there’s no help for it.” “Take? Take where?” Aubrey obligingly slipped his feet into his own well-worn leather boots.

26

Fly by Knight

“Where we’re going.” Gwyneth frowned. The leather boots were not a good match for the rough trousers, but it would have to suffice. She nodded at the small wooden doorway in one corner of his chamber. “Up there.” He laughed this time. A sad laugh, but a laugh all the same. “My dear Mistress Gwyneth. That door is locked, of course. And even if it were standing wide, it leads only to the turret above this chamber. The very top of the tower. There is no way down, short of jumping to our deaths.” She smirked at him. “Then that is what we shall do.” He sighed. “I appear to have fucked your brains out, woman.” “Patience, Baron.” Gwyneth crossed to the tray she’d brought in earlier and, with a little sound of distaste, plunged her hand into the rough bowl containing pottage. It was cold now, rather unpleasant to the touch. But she found what she was looking for and pulled her hand back with a tiny laugh. “There you are.” She held up a sticky greenish key. Aubrey’s gaze sharpened. “Aha. And to think I never liked pottage.” “You should always eat your vegetables. They’re good for you,” Gwyneth answered absently as she washed off the muck from the key and then went to the small door. “Come on. What are you waiting for?” He paused. “Nothing, I suppose. Since I am to die on the morrow, what could I possibly hope to lose by following a madwoman onto the topmost turret of a castle where there’s no way down?” He looked hopeful. “Are we going to fuck under the stars?” Even though a tiny shiver of heat licked at her pussy at the mere thought of lying naked with him under the night sky, Gwyneth shook her head. “Sheathe your weapon, Baron Thaxton, and clean up your thoughts. We have more important things to do this night.” “Can’t think of too many.” His eyes roamed her body.

27

Sahara Kelly

With a snort of disgust, Gwyneth opened the door and glanced over her shoulder. “Come on. Do you want your freedom or not?” “At this point, I’m not sure what I want. Other than your breasts in my mouth again…” “Oh good grief.” She whisked through the door and ascended the spiraling stone stairway to the turret, not even bothering to see if he followed. If he was going to keep distracting her with these sexual asides, they’d never get anything accomplished. And she would fail in her mission. That was completely unacceptable. Baron Thaxton had to survive. It was up to Gwyneth to see that he did. While all he could think about was her damn breasts…

28

Fly by Knight

Chapter Three It must be the aftereffects of incredible sex, mused Aubrey as he followed this strange woman up the staircase and out onto the surface of the tiny turret. A good fuck had never dulled his brains before, but this time he’d apparently lost his mind along with his seed. This particular spot was at the very top of Thaxton Castle. He’d come here as a boy now and again to watch the storms roll in from the distant channel that divided this part of England from the Welsh coast. He knew there was no other way off this lofty bit of stone other than the stairway they’d just traversed. What the hell this woman had in mind other than jumping and smashing themselves into a million tiny pieces of flesh, he couldn’t begin to imagine. He noticed that Gwyneth was circling the turret as if looking for something. “There’s nothing here, sweetling.” She ignored him, continuing to move from stone to stone, poking and prodding at the ones just beneath the points of the crenellations. “Gwyneth?” He was confused. “Sssh.” She waved a hand vaguely at him, her hair flying all over the place in the strong wind that lashed its way over Thaxton’s roofs and battlements. Aubrey had to push his own hair away from his eyes. He knew this wind of old. At night, when the sun-warmed air cooled in the darkness, winds would rise from the sea several miles away and rush in over the land, sweeping down the vale to crash into the walls of the cliffs upon which Thaxton perched. His father had brought him here on occasion, to launch paper birds and watch them fly away to places unknown. What would his father have said had he known his son was condemned as a witch? 29

Sahara Kelly

Somber now, Aubrey stood and breathed in the air he knew so well. Inhaling the fragrance of his home, his life. Deep lungfuls of night, swallowed by his body in a desperate attempt to cling to his existence. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live, to keep doing what he thought he’d been doing, which was making Thaxton safe for those who relied upon its sturdy walls for protection. The surrounding land was nearly peaceful for once, almost free of marauding bands of Welsh mercenaries. He and a handful of his trusty knights had encouraged them in the belief that raids on Thaxton and its shire would be met with determined defenses and those willing to die for their families. It had worked. Until the arrival of Geoffrey Hoddenbury and his train. A major part of which was his leman—his mistress—Ann Devereaux. Aubrey’s thoughts turned sour but he was distracted by a slight crow of delight from the sensual and mysterious Mistress Gwyneth. Apparently she’d found what she’d been seeking. “Aha. Here. I couldn’t remember which one.” She was struggling with a massive slab of stone, as if to pull it away from the parapet. “What the hell are you trying to do, woman?” Aubrey moved to her side, peering through the darkness at her pale hands scrabbling on the dark rock. “If you’d deign to help me instead of letting your wits drift on the wind, you might find out.” She huffed the words at him, still tugging and wrenching at the damn slab. Aubrey sighed. “What do you want me to do?” “Put your hands here, below mine, and pull.” She indicated the joints where the rocks met in a straight line. It was futile, of course, but Aubrey had naught to lose by humoring her. He nearly fell over when the rock began to move and pivoted beneath their combined force like a small door on its hinges. “What the—”

30

Fly by Knight

“Yessss.” Gwyneth did a little jig of exhilaration. “I knew it would still be here.” She reached into the newly revealed cavity and pulled out a bundle of something, laying it carefully on the floor of the turret. From what Aubrey could discern, it was a mess of ropes and some sort of cloth or skins. He stared at her, completely at a loss to comprehend what it was or why she was unrolling it with all the enthusiasm of a woman with a bolt of the finest silk. Little sounds of delight whisked around him on the wind as she finally had it all flattened to her satisfaction. He blinked. “What in the name of all that’s holy is that?” He had to raise his voice a little to make himself heard over the whistling air around them. Gwyneth turned a smiling face toward him. “Our way out, Baron Thaxton.” She picked up one part of the rope that was lashed into some sort of harness. “Are you ready?” “I don’t know. Ready for what?” She slipped the ropes around her body, then beckoned to him. “Come here, let me show you.” Curiously, he did as she bid, walking to her and frowning as she lashed him into the contraption, pulling at the ropes and tightening knots with the skill of a seaman fastening his sails. As soon as the thought occurred to him, Aubrey froze. “You don’t mean—” She laughed, a wild and free sound that flew from her lips, dashed away by the wind. “Yes, my Baron. We are about to fly.” “You’re mad.” He stared at her in horror. She really did expect them to jump from this godforsaken turret. “Help me loose the folds.” Ignoring his outburst, Gwyneth reached around him and shook the fabric free of its bundle. It billowed and flapped, reminding him of a living thing that hungered to devour the shrieking gale.

31

Sahara Kelly

He tried to step back, to comprehend this insanity, but they were lashed together now, tightly, from shoulder to hip. He barely caught his balance as the strange stuff fluttered and then filled, rising from the floor of the turret not unlike a tent roof on the side of a tournament field. He felt the pull, the urge to lift and take them off their feet. A skittering moment of terror darted through him. “This can’t work.” He was shouting now, panicked and unable to move. “Yes, it can. I know it can.” She put her arms around his waist and hugged him. “Step onto the battlements, Aubrey. Take the chance.” Her green eyes shone brilliantly in the dim starlight, a fire of emeralds laughing up at him in the face of what he could only perceive as certain death. “After all, dear Baron, what do you have to lose?” “I…” He paused. She was right. What did he have to lose? His life? That was forfeit anyway. Perhaps it would be better to die with a woman in his arms, to snuff out his spirit in a quick—albeit messy—splatter, rather than the lingering agony of fire. She reached up and touched his face, cupping his cheek and drawing him close. “Trust me.” Soft lips brushed his as his thoughts centered and a strange calmness descended on him. Aubrey stepped up onto the battlement wall, balancing himself against the force of the wind as he held on to the pointed crenellation at his side. The fabric behind him snapped sharply and nearly dragged him off his feet. “Let go, Aubrey. Jump.” Her arms tightened around him and she buried her face in his chest. “Jump now.” A brief prayer fluttered through Aubrey’s thoughts, then his mind blanked. He tensed his thigh muscles, clasped Gwyneth tightly against him—and jumped. And flew.

*****

32

Fly by Knight

The air screamed around her head as Gwyneth felt them tumble from the turret into nothingness. Aubrey’s arms held her like iron bands, nearly crushing what breath she had left out of her lungs. Then there was a sudden painful jerk on the ropes around them and their downward progress slowed. Over the noise of the wind, she heard the contented flap of their makeshift “sail” and then felt them begin to move away from the face of the cliff, away from Thaxton and along the path of the gale toward the tumbling forests that edged the valley floor. It was more than she’d hoped. Not so much that the device would carry both their weights, this she’d been almost certain would happen. But where they would come to rest had been a nagging, gnawing worry at the back of her thoughts. Aubrey cried out something unintelligible as they drifted on the current of air, sometimes even rising a little, then dipping for a few moments in a heart-stopping fall that would end with another gust of wind. Gwyneth could feel his muscles rigid against her, his heart thundering fiercely beneath her ear as she tucked herself against him. She wondered what he must be thinking at this moment. And also how she was going to explain it all to him when they reached the ground. Always assuming they didn’t thrash themselves to death on something hard, sharp or unforgiving. This sort of adventure wasn’t without its hazards, even if the principle worked effectively. They soared, then dipped, as easily as a leaf falling from a tall oak tree, borne by the winds and whisked away from Thaxton Castle as they flew above and beyond the land around it. Trying to get her bearings, Gwyneth risked a glance downward, but all was darkness. She simply couldn’t tell if they were over trees or grassland or what. They needed to arrive somewhere close to her tiny camp and she knew the prevailing winds would certainly push them in that direction. But right now she could see nothing but Aubrey’s chest a scant inch from her nose. 33

Sahara Kelly

She tipped her head back to try to make out his face. “Pull the rope, Aubrey. Pull the rope in your hand.” She yelled the words over the rush of the air. He didn’t move, still rigid in her grasp. “Aubrey, dammit…” Gwyneth cursed. She had to catch his attention. He was the one with the two strong ropes next to his arms. Only he could tug on one or the other and steer them as much as was possible. She did not want them to slam into the cliff face. They had to veer off to their left. “Aubrey.” She screamed his name, then decided that if he couldn’t hear her, maybe he could feel her. Leaning her face against his skin, she nipped at his chest with her teeth. “Aaaargh.” Well, at least he was screaming now, though she hadn’t bitten him that hard. “Pull the fucking rope.” Shrieked at the top of her voice, the words apparently pierced the terror gripping her flying knight. He tentatively lowered his head and showed her his eyes, the whites clearly visible around his pupils. Poor lad was truly terrified. “You can steer us, Aubrey. Pull the left-hand rope a little.” He shook his head stiffly, hair flying around him like a nimbus of darkness. “Can’t.” “Yes, you can. Just reach for the rope and give it a tug. You will steer us.” He trembled in her embrace and she tightened her arms even more. “Do it, Aubrey. Trust me. Do it now.” To help him focus, to calm him, Gwyneth slid her legs to either side of his thighs and clamped his body against her. There was no hardness there, no cock waiting to penetrate her womanly places. She bit her lip against a smile. In all likelihood, his cock and his balls were desperately trying to hide somewhere inside his gut.

34

Fly by Knight

Sometimes knights were brave. Especially on the battlefield. But send one flying through the air and suddenly that courage evaporated. Gwyneth shrugged to herself. Clearly bravery came in all different shapes and sizes. A movement alerted her to the fact that Aubrey had heard her words and had overcome his fear enough to follow her directions. Tentatively he touched the rope and gripped it, then pulled, dipping one corner of their sail and making them take a track leading away from the face of the cliffs. Gwyneth nodded her relief. “Good. That’s enough.” The change in direction brought them lower and she could tell that they were now over open scrubland, heading for the forest where she’d camped so long before. The wind would die down soon. That would be the difficult part, to say the least. “Aubrey, listen to me.” She squeezed him with arms and legs, praying he could hear her. And understand what she was saying. “When we get low, our speed will fall and so will we. You need to brace yourself. Bend your knees a little. Roll if we have to. Don’t worry about me.” Amazingly, he nodded. “I understand.” Gwyneth rewarded him with an extra strong hug. Just in time too, as the fabric above them started to flap and the air calmed. The noise diminished, and for a few moments, Gwyneth swore all she could hear was the soft thrum of the wind against the ropes and two heartbeats, rapidly pounding out the identical rhythm. They were close…closer to the ground now. She could sense it. Then a check in their progress, a sickening drop and a jarring thud of bodies against land.

35

Sahara Kelly

Aubrey fought to hold them upright, but it was a futile battle against gravity. They tumbled and rolled, hard collisions knocking the breath out of both of them. The sail collapsed on top of them and all was blackness and bruising pain. Gwyneth prayed this wasn’t the end. Then everything went dark.

36

Fly by Knight

Chapter Four Aubrey struggled against something holding his body tightly, ropes bound his arms and tangled his legs. He was captured, trapped, at the mercy of his enemy. But he couldn’t remember losing the battle. His horse. Where was his horse? And his sword? A sharp dig into his side told him he was bare from the waist up, his armor gone. His mail gone. What the— A thousand aches and pains coursed through him, taking the air from his lungs in a long, gusty groan. Dear God, he felt like he’d been beaten by the entire army of Welsh mercenaries. But at least he was still breathing. Welsh. Welsh mercenaries. With that thought, consciousness seeped back through the fog that clouded his brain and Aubrey remembered the horror of jumping off his own turret. With— Gwyneth. He stirred, realizing that the ropes around his body were those that had held them aloft. The impenetrable darkness surrounding him might well be the strange sail they’d used to fly through the night. He still couldn’t quite accept it. But there was a head on his chest, a spill of soft hair lying on his shoulder and a warmly curved body still lashed to his front. She wasn’t moving. Carefully, Aubrey lifted an arm, shook it free of its bindings and reached a hand to Gwyneth’s head, cradling it gently. “Gwyneth?” He had to clear his throat and try again. His mouth was dry, whether from fear or the anxiety about his precious burden he wasn’t quite sure.

37

Sahara Kelly

Heart in his throat, Aubrey tried again, finding her shoulder and shaking it a little. “Gwyneth? Are you all right?” “No.” The groaned word made Aubrey smile in spite of everything. She was alive. He was alive. Somehow, through God’s hand or an angel’s intervention, or some other act of miraculous nature, they were both alive. His aches disappeared for a few moments as a rush of euphoria flooded his veins, his heart thundering with it, a cry of gladness welling up in his lungs. They were alive. Within moments, the veracity of that statement made itself known. A number of pains throbbed dully all over him, his leg was cramping from the awkward angle he’d assumed upon landing and there was a very sharp something-or-other digging into one buttock. He shifted, carefully holding on to Gwyneth, and freed his arse from whatever was trying to pierce it. Stretching out his legs, he cradled her. “Gwyneth? Sweetling? Talk to me. We’re alive. We flew. Just as you promised…” “We landed too.” The muttered words sounded more like oaths than satisfaction, but Aubrey grinned anyway. “If you’ll notice, you’re on top of me. My backside took the worst of it, I think.” He moved slightly. “Are you injured?” Her head moved as she shook it against his chest. “No. I don’t think so. Got a few bumps and bruises.” There was more shifting of limbs. Given that he was still enthralled by what they’d just done, excited to be alive and thrumming with the heat of their flight, her movements were arousing to say the least. He clasped her to him and grunted a little. “Careful, my sweet. You’re lying on a part of me that is easily affected by your body.” “Oh.” She stilled. “We’re tangled in the ropes, aren’t we?”

38

Fly by Knight

“Mmm.” Gwyneth was soft heat and tender flesh in his arms, a delicate weight he gladly absorbed now that his backside was resting comfortably. “I can’t see anything.” “We’re covered in the sail stuff, I suppose.” Idly, Aubrey lifted one arm and pushed at the fabric covering them, sliding it off to one side and revealing the night sky. “There. Better?” She took a deep breath. “Yes, oh yes. Much better.” A shift of her legs and the ropes dropped to the ground beside them. “We did it.” He felt her lips move into a smile as she turned her head against his chest. “I told you so.” Aubrey sighed. He supposed he should’ve expected her self-satisfied comment. “Yes, you did.” Somehow, it didn’t seem important enough to dispute at this point. She had told him it would work. If she wanted to drive home the validity of that assertion, then he’d let her. Just as long as she did it while lying nearly naked on top of him. He was a forgiving man by nature. And forgiveness came especially easily to a woman rubbing her nude body over his. He stretched languorously, still trying to accept the fact he was still alive, wouldn’t have to sear himself to death in the morning and had flown like an eagle through the night. A tiny chuckle lurked in his throat. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I? You drugged the pottage and this is all a dream.” She chuckled back, her hips snug in the dip of his belly. “You didn’t eat the pottage, remember? You don’t like it. And I’m bruised. One does not bruise for real in a dream.” She moved her head and found one of his nipples, daringly licking it with her tongue and sending a quick shaft of pleasure through him. “There. Did you feel that? Did you suddenly awake to find yourself back in the tower?” Aubrey’s body flared to life, desire sparking along his limbs and into his cock. “I’m not in the tower.” His voice was low as he let his hands drift beneath the rough tunic up

39

Sahara Kelly

her torso to her breasts. “But I’m definitely awake.” His cock rose to full hardness and found a home between her thighs. “All of me is awake.” Gwyneth chuckled in her turn. “So I can tell.” She sighed as he caressed her, her body beginning to move under his touch, to position itself almost automatically where he most wanted it to be. “Gwyneth.” He touched her head gently. “Gwyneth, ride me. Here and now. Help me believe in life. In magic. Reassure me I’m not dead…” As if she needed any encouragement. From the moment she’d stepped into his tower prison, Gwyneth had found herself battling her impulses. She had a mission, one that she’d lived with for quite some time. A mission that had become part of her life, ingrained deeply into her mind and her heart. But seeing the target of that mission, live and in the flesh—the very delectable naked flesh—had raised other things. Prime amongst which was a severe case of wanton and overwhelming lust. She’d not expected to want this man so sharply her belly cramped with it. Nor had she expected to find him so appealing on so many levels. He was funny, quick-witted, honest enough to admit his fears and open enough to confess his desires. She’d wanted him, sexually, with a fierce need that had astounded her even as it had thrilled her. And she’d tumbled willingly beneath him at the first chance she got. Lord, she was a wanton hussy where this man was concerned. It was good, oh so good, but could also be a bad thing in any number of ways. She’d accomplished part of her mission, her quest to save him. He was, for the moment, safe from the flames. But now…there were serious matters to attend to. She shouldn’t be indulging in excesses of the flesh. Then again, who would know? Would it make a huge dent in the scheme of things if she were to permit herself a little indulgence?

40

Fly by Knight

Gwyneth slithered down over Aubrey and straddled his thighs. Hmm. Better make that a big indulgence. Her tunic was ripped and Aubrey’s breeches had been torn away, the remnants clinging to the tops of his boots. There was nothing between them now but heat. And desire. She reached for him, taking his cock into her cupped hands, loving the slight groan as she stroked the velvet hardness and teased the head, delicately fondling the rigid length and watching it twitch as she sought the right places to please him. “Your mouth, Gwyneth. Your hands are divine, but if you would put your mouth on me…’twould be heaven indeed.” Gwyneth blinked at the notion. She’d heard of this but never done it herself. The idea had merits, for certain. She leaned over and gently pressed a kiss to the swollen flesh. “Like this?” “Mmm.” He sighed out his delight. “Or like this?” Daringly, she opened her mouth wide and slid her lips down over him, letting her tongue replace her fingers and swirl around his cock. He shuddered, legs trembling beneath her thighs, his hands reaching for her hair as she toyed with him. “By the Gods, Gwyneth…” Ah yes. That was obviously correct. She grinned and returned to her task with enthusiasm. Aubrey tasted—unique. She’d not experienced the like before. There was a salty tang on her tongue, mingling with musk and something that must be essentially male in nature, since it resounded in her nose and—oddly—in her belly too. His cock was getting slippery as she suckled it, sliding ever more easily in and out of her mouth. Afraid she’d drop him, Gwyneth curled her fingers around the base of him, holding him snugly as she toyed her way up and down his length.

41

Sahara Kelly

He choked out an incomprehensible sound, followed by a groan that was undoubtedly meant to be encouragement. Saints alive, he was turning into jelly in her hands. She was definitely on to something here. And curiously, her actions were proving stimulating to her own responses as well. Aubrey shifted, parting his thighs for her, pushing her own legs wider and making her aware of her pussy, the brush of air against her naked buttocks, her nipples as they grazed the bristly skin of his thighs. She felt a dull ache begin low in her groin, an empty sensation that demanded she fill it—with Aubrey. Slowly, she eased away from him and moved, inching her body upward, dragging her sensitive flesh over his cock as she slid and lifted herself over him. Gwyneth was shuddering now, a twin to the one that had shaken Aubrey. This was passion. This was lust. This was the blinding, overwhelming desperation to fuck that she knew existed but had never truly experienced. And as she came to rest with Aubrey’s cock nudging her pussy, she stared down at him and met his gaze. They locked eyes, never blinking as she sank—slowly, oh so slowly—onto his hardness. She didn’t stop until he was all the way inside her and their curls mingled together, a tangle of hair merging as smoothly as did their bodies. It was a moment unlike any other Gwyneth could have imagined. They were joined, by gaze, by body and by something else that swept over her like a breath of fire. She could feel him deep, perhaps even touching her womb. Deeper than she’d believed possible. And yet it was more than physical, more than the mere sating of lust. For uncounted moments she was still above him, exploring these strange sensations. Then, obedient to some urge that swamped her, she moved. Aubrey’s hands fell to her hips and he urged her upward, encouraging her into a rhythm that pleased them both, then letting her lead, letting her ride him at her own pace. 42

Fly by Knight

Her breasts bounced freely as she rose and fell, her pussy rasping against his body, her juices flowing freely over his cock as her arousal exploded into blinding madness. She drove the pace harshly, hurrying, desperate to reach that point where she could let go and fall into endless spasms of whirling bliss. Aubrey held her, his fingers gripping her tightly, lifting his hips in concert with hers, moving within her and brushing against those inner places that none but he had reached. They panted, trembled, cried out meaningless sounds and finally—with one massive downward thrust—they surrendered. Eons of time seemed to pass as Gwyneth’s body peaked, massive clenching roils of delight twisting her belly and her pussy, blinding her to all but the release of pleasure so huge it threatened to choke the very breath from her lungs. She was vaguely aware of milking Aubrey’s cock, hot spurts of his seed bathing her sheath, echoing the ripples she could feel traversing her woman’s parts. It was—well, there were no words for it. Gwyneth simply held fast to Aubrey’s arms and let it take her until she could draw enough air into her lungs to collapse on top of him. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but sprawl on the sated body of her flying knight. And let sleep claim her.

***** Something warm and wet was licking Aubrey’s mouth. He smiled. Drifting into wakefulness, he wondered if he’d ever bedded such a wild and responsive woman as Gwyneth. Who was lying on top of him, boneless and warm, her head just beneath his chin. Aubrey stilled. If her head was on his chest, then what—

43

Sahara Kelly

Carefully he lifted his eyelids. And stared into the face of a wolf. A grinning face, tongue lolling from one side, a creature looking for all the world like it was quite happy to see him and wished him a good morrow. A small sound emerged from his mouth—a sort of muted squeak—as his gaze met that of the gray-brown creature smiling down at him. And incidentally, drooling a little on his shoulder. Great teeth showed where the lips were parted, teeth that Aubrey knew could tear his throat away with no effort whatsoever. Something about his stillness must have roused Gwyneth. She stirred and yawned, ignoring Aubrey’s efforts to keep her from attracting the attention of the beast above them. “Oh I slept well.” She freed herself from his arms. “Shhh.” He tried to keep his whisper as quiet as he could. “What?” She tensed and lifted her head. “We have company.” Gwyneth moved cautiously, then turned and saw the wolf. She jumped and laughed, scaring Aubrey half to death. “Cyff! Darling Cyff. You found me.” Damned if the great creature didn’t woof at her, moving eagerly to her and nuzzling Gwyneth’s face and neck, licking and delivering sloppy wet wolf kisses to the smiling woman. Aubrey needed to relieve his bladder. Urgently. The sight of Gwyneth and the wolf was just too much for a mortal man to bear at this hour of the morning. He’d strayed into some mystical tale spun by drunken bards or minstrels, without a doubt. Gwyneth cooed and stroked and tugged the wolf’s ears. It was all Aubrey could stand. “I have to move.” Recalled from her canine-induced ecstasy, Gwyneth glanced at him, noted the strained expression and eased herself away from his body. “Of course. Don’t mind Cyff. He’s my dog.”

44

Fly by Knight

“If that’s a dog, I’m the Pope.” Aubrey grimaced as he stood. “Forgive me, I have needs to attend to.” Hoping the wolf wouldn’t fancy a mouthful of naked arse, Aubrey headed swiftly for the nearest bushes. When he returned, Gwyneth smiled sunnily at him. “Better?” Had she no shame at all? Aubrey tried to ignore the embarrassment crawling over his bones and picked up what was left of his homespun breeches. Settling for the obvious, he glanced skyward. “Well, it’s almost dawn.” He wrapped the flimsy rags around him, looking for the wolf. “Where’s that beast?” Gwyneth straightened. “Cyff is not a beast. He’s my dog. We’ve been together since he was a pup. And he’s going to be quite useful. Wait and see.” She unconcernedly tidied her hair and wrinkled her nose as she tried to adjust the remains of her tunic. “I hope he doesn’t take too long.” “To do what? Work up an appetite?” Aubrey frowned. “Gwyneth, that’s a vicious and dangerous wolf. That is not, in any way, shape or form, a dog. Do you hear me?” She snorted. “Typical narrow-minded Englishman.” “Typical deaf woman.” He paused. “Who happens to be Welsh.” They stared at each other. Then laughed, each realizing the absurdity of the argument. Gwyneth sobered first. “We must talk, Aubrey.” He nodded. “I know. I have many questions to which only you, it seems, have answers.” He watched her shoulders, white and smooth. “Gwyneth, I’ve not asked, given the circumstances, but should I expect a sword in my gut from a jealous husband?” He held her gaze. “You are no virgin, sweetling. Nor a child, though you pretended most satisfactorily in my keep.” She stood and stretched, a sensual movement that stirred Aubrey anew. Good lord, this woman could probably fart and he’d get an erection. What was the matter with him?

45

Sahara Kelly

“I have twenty-two summers under my kirtle, Baron. And during those twenty-two summers, I’ve lost two husbands.” “On purpose or by accident?” She lifted an eyebrow wryly. “I was first wed at sixteen. A callow youth who imagined himself a fine fisherman. Apparently he also imagined himself a fine swimmer. Imagination didn’t stop him from drowning when his coracle overturned two weeks after our marriage.” Aubrey knew of the shell-shaped craft plied by adept Welsh fishermen. He could well envision it capsizing. “Oh dear.” “After a suitable period of widowhood, my parents tried again, this time to a man twice my age. I was nineteen. He was kind, considerate and convinced his brilliant military skills would bring him fame and fortune. Six months after our wedding, he left to campaign in North Wales. For what or for whom, I don’t know. He never returned. I was told that his body is somewhere on the slopes of Clogwyn Du’r Arddu.” Aubrey tilted his head. “Where?” “The Black Cliff of Darkness.” She shrugged. “’Tis part of a mighty peak in our northern lands, Baron. Bleak and savage. It’s claimed many a life, not just my second husband’s.” “My sympathies, Gwyneth.” He noted she’d returned to calling him Baron. He didn’t like it. He much preferred to hear her scream his given name when she reached her peak, or purr it with those soft Welsh vowels of hers. “Thank you. I have moved on. But refused to wed again. At my age, there are few now who want me.” “More fools they.” Aubrey watched her as she began to unravel the tangle of their flying machine. “You’ve much to offer a man, dearling.” She tossed her head. “I shall offer what I choose to offer, take what I choose to take and do both with whom I choose. Freedom is a fine thing for a woman. I relish mine.”

46

Fly by Knight

Aubrey pursed his lips. “Are you sure? Who will care for you in the long winters? Who will hunt and bring home the food necessary for your sustenance? Who will provide should you fall ill?” He reached out and stroked her cheek. “Who will warm your nights, Gwyneth? Is your freedom really free? Or is it lonely?” Another snort. “Much you know about it.” She paused, head to one side as if listening. “Ahh, here he comes.” Aubrey braced himself, muscles tensed and ready to reach for a sword that wasn’t there. Bedamned to it, he was unarmed. He didn’t like the feeling at all and all his senses went on alert as he too listened for sounds in the forest around them. After a few moments, he heard it. Harsh panting breaths that heralded the return of Gwyneth’s dog. And Aubrey’s apprehension. He had the natural reactions of a man used to dealing with these predators. Which was, fundamentally, if one couldn’t kill it, one should be up a tree watching it while it prowled beneath. From a safe distance. However, this one seemed unconcerned at his caution, merely trotting over to Gwyneth and dropping a bundle of something into her lap. She praised him, called him a good boy, her precious and other female idiocies. Then the great beast slumped down comfortably beside her and rested its huge head on her knee. Just like the dog she called it. Aubrey sighed. He’d flown through the night sky. Fucked a woman until his brains were gone. What was one apparently tame wolf when added to the madness he seemed to be experiencing? “Come and make friends, Baron. Cyff will not harm you.” Swallowing down his natural reticence—it was not, of course, fear, since knights were known for their courage—Aubrey carefully moved to her side and sat crosslegged next to her. Under the watchful eyes of her pet. “What do you call him?” “Cyff. ’Tis Welsh for tree trunk. He did indeed have legs like tree trunks when but a pup.”

47

Sahara Kelly

An ear flicked lazily as Cyff responded to the sound of his name on his mistress’s lips. “Ah.” Aubrey remained still. “How am I supposed to make friends with him?” Other than offering my throat for his breakfast. “Just fold your fingers into a fist and let him sniff it. ’Twill resemble a paw and is his way of greeting.” Aubrey tucked his sword hand behind him and did as he was bid with the other one. If he was going to lose a body part, he’d rather it not be one that he valued most highly. “Hello, Cyff.” A polite sniff, a look of disdain, a casual swipe of the tongue and Cyff returned to his interrupted nap on Gwyneth’s thigh. “Is that it?” Aubrey blinked. “Yes. He’s accepted you now. You are with me, and as such, you’re under his protection. Since I introduced you, you are part of my pack.” She looked at him. “You know very little about animals.” Aubrey frowned. “I know all I need.” He glanced at the bundle. “What’s in there?” “Supplies.” She unwrapped soft bits of dark green fabric. “For you, a long robe. For me, a tunic. Nothing that cannot be replaced—in fact, we shall need more very soon. But enough to help us make our way onward to our destination.” Before Aubrey could inquire as to exactly where their destination was, she unwrapped something else. “And food.” Unbidden, his stomach rumbled mightily, making Gwyneth smile and Cyff open one eyelid. Breaking off a piece of something round, she handed it to him. He looked at it. “What is this?”

48

Fly by Knight

“The monks call it panforte. Strong bread. I believe it comes from Tuscany. Try it.” She took her own piece and chewed with enthusiasm, sharing a tiny morsel with Cyff in response to his hopeful drool. Sniffing it, Aubrey’s mouth watered as well. It was sweet, but tangy, a flavor of spices and honey that he found much to his taste. “Mmm. This is very good indeed.” Gwyneth nodded. “I’ve always enjoyed it. ’Tis not a meal, but it will suffice to keep us moving until we can find real sustenance. We should look for fresh water too once we get on our way.” Aubrey leaned back and watched Gwyneth as the sun rose fully over the horizon. “Well, lady. We have broken our fast and refreshed ourselves. We have coverings for our bodies and a four-legged guardian at our side. I think it’s time you told me what all this is about, don’t you?” She watched him, green eyes expressionless for a moment, as if considering his words. “Gwyneth, I need to know. Tell me why you saved my life.”

49

Sahara Kelly

Chapter Five As the sun peeked over the horizon, it shed its light through paned windows and into the Lord’s Chamber of Thaxton Castle. And onto the couple writhing within the linens of the massive oak bed. “God in heaven, Ann. You’ll be the death of me, woman.” Geoffrey Hoddenbury was slamming himself between his mistress’s thighs. White and round, her buttocks tensed and released in time with his thrusts, she herself being on all fours in front of him. Geoffrey panted aloud. This was the third—or was it fourth—time they’d fucked in the past twenty-four hours. He could remember taking her twice last night, although the second time it was questionable who took whom. “Geoffrey…” She moaned low in her throat, a sound that always sank directly to Geoffrey’s balls and made him hard as a rock. And the bitch knew it too. He hammered deep, forcing his way into her cunt with all the force of his body, his muscles as taut as if he were in battle. “More, Geoffrey, more—” She was never fucking satisfied, this one. He was a man of strong lusts, but she was insatiable in her demands of his body. Not that he was complaining, of course. A mistress—a leman—should be exactly that. Hungry for her master’s cock all the time. But there was an edge to Ann that Geoffrey was only now beginning to sense, a need that went beyond the norm, a desire that transcended simple mating and wandered close to a place where Geoffrey found himself uneasy. “Hit me, my Lord. Spank my arse.” She barked out the words as he gripped her hips. “Make me feel your fucking. Punish me. Hard—”

50

Fly by Knight

Even though the heat of their mating was near to blinding Geoffrey, he felt apprehension slide down his spine along with his sweat. He was not in favor of violence toward women, not the type of Lord who would permit his soldiers free rein to rape and murder in the aftermath of a successful siege as so many others did. But he was also a lover who liked to give his partner pleasure. So he did as Ann bid. He slapped her buttocks, sharp blows from a hand calloused and rough, a hand more used to holding a sword than pounding blows into soft arse cheeks. She moaned and sobbed out her delight, wriggling and writhing around his cock, hot and slick and devouring all that he could give her. It was early yet, Geoffrey’s cock was slowly awakening to its full length and he felt he could go on fucking her for hours before he released himself. He slapped her again for good measure, smiling a little at her cry of happiness. Geoffrey’s hips smashed into Ann’s body again and again, his cock responding, his balls drawing tighter now as his arousal grew. He almost sobbed as she pulled off his length and quickly rolled over, her face flushed and her lips parted. “Wait a moment.” Cock dripping with her juices and sweat pouring off his body, Geoffrey’s jaw dropped. “Wait?” He choked on the word. “You’re jesting.” With the amazing suppleness he’d appreciated many times, Ann spread her legs far apart and pulled her thighs high, bending her knees and opening herself impossibly wide to his gaze. The blonde curls of her pussy shone with her liquids, the lips ripe and swollen. She pulled her knees even farther toward the bed. “My arse. Take my arse, damn you.” Her soft white hands reached for her nipples, then one slid down to fondle her mound and her hard little bud of pleasure, protruding from its hood, erect and shining. “Fuck my arse, Geoffrey. Hard. Give me the pain of pleasure. Spare me nothing. I want this. I want—you, Geoffrey.” Once again, Geoffrey did as he was bid. He could not refuse this voraciously sexual creature, it seemed. Certainly not when his cock was screaming aloud its need to be 51

Sahara Kelly

inside her. Anywhere inside her. He shifted, raised her hips easily with one hand and positioned the swollen head of his erection against the small ring of muscles that hid her dark places. “Yes, oh my Lord, yes…” She quivered in his grasp, nipples hard and elongated, her fingers toying with her pussy lips and slicking through the moisture with a sound that echoed through Geoffrey’s body. He thrust, a sharp and forceful thrust past her arse and into the tight passage within. She screamed, loud and harsh, a rough sound that stopped Geoffrey in his tracks for a moment or two until he saw her mouth twist into a smile. “By the saints, Geoffrey. That’s so good. What a lord and master you are. Fuck me, pleasure me. Take your own pleasure…fill me with your seed until I’m soaked with it…” Geoffrey stared down at his leman. All white skin and tousled blonde hair and pink sex. She was everything a lord could want in his bed. As he moved and let her tight muscles caress his cock, he knew his release would soon be upon him. The red haze of orgasm crept up his spine, heating his blood, firing his heartbeat, tensing his body into readiness. She was beginning to spasm around him, her arse clenching him almost painfully as she drove herself to release and dragged him with her. Voracious and beautiful, Ann Devereaux could fuck a rock and make it scream. As Geoffrey Hoddenbury let go and emptied his seed into her arse, he wondered why he should find that thought disturbing all of a sudden. They shook, cried out and rode the violent path to ecstasy, Ann with her hand in her own pussy, Geoffrey with his cock in her arse. It was all that a fucking should be, yet he pulled free of her clinging passage within seconds of his peak, still spurting the remnants of his come.

52

Fly by Knight

He tumbled face down onto the sheets next to her, exhausted, panting, sweating as much as his war-horse on a hot day. “Damn, Ann. That was a hell of a fucking.” Ann purred next to him and dropped a kiss on his shoulder. “Am I worthy of you, my Lord? Do I give you pleasure?” “Of course.” He sighed. “Always, my dear. You know you do.” “Let me cleanse you, Geoffrey.” And just like that, she was off the bed, doing things with cloths and bowls of water, only to return and erase the evidence of their lovemaking from his body. ’Twas as if she had instant powers of recuperation, thought Geoffrey. He wasn’t up to doing much of anything for at least ten minutes or so. Certainly not until his heartbeat slowed. He would have pursued this train of thought, but a loud knock at the door of the chamber disturbed him. Geoffrey rolled over and pulled the linen up, covering his softening cock and motioning Ann and her cloth away behind the screen in one corner of the room. “Enter.” A servant bowed his way into the chamber. “My apologies for this early interruption, my Lord.” “What is it?” There was an air of something about the man, suppressed excitement, perhaps. Or fear. Geoffrey couldn’t put a finger on it. “It’s—it’s—the prisoner, my Lord. Baron Thaxton.” The events of the past few months swamped back over Geoffrey’s sex-befuddled brain. Events that had taken a turn even he could not have anticipated. And led to this day, the day when he would be forced to watch his onetime friend die in agony. His face hardened. “What about him?” “He’s gone.” The silence following this statement was so profound that both men jumped when it was broken by the sound of a water vessel smashing to the floor.

53

Sahara Kelly

***** “I had a dream.” Gwyneth brushed the last of the crumbs from her fingers and looked at Aubrey. “A dream? All women have dreams.” He was impatient now, she knew. Even sitting quietly next to her, she could sense the tension in him. “Yes, we do. But this was long ago and a dream I’ve never forgotten. I dreamed of you, Baron.” “Me?” His eyes opened wide. “But—had we even met? How long ago was this dream of yours?” She glared at him. “If you’ll do me the honor of listening to my story, Baron, this will go a lot quicker. Interrupting me all the time will serve no purpose other than to delay our progress well into the morning.” “Very well. Go ahead.” He snapped his lips shut. There was justification, Gwyneth supposed. What she was about to tell him sounded preposterous even to her ears. However, she settled herself comfortably and began her tale. “I was barely fourteen when I had this dream. An incredibly real dream that took me from my small chamber into a place I cannot even describe to you. It seemed like a fortress of sorts, but none that I could ever have imagined.” She sighed, trying, as she did from time to time, to recall the surroundings that had stunned her with their beauty and strangeness. “Anyway, there was a woman there. A lovely woman who spoke strangely yet gently to me. She told me of many things, some of which I can remember, others that drift now and again through the back of my mind. But the one thing that is clear as day is…you.” Aubrey stared at her. “Me?”

54

Fly by Knight

“Yes.” Gwyneth closed her eyes. “You. As you are now. All tall and male and knightly…” One male and knightly eyebrow rose. “Really?” “Oh yes.” She dragged herself away from the memory of him and their loving. “This woman showed me your image in a strange black bowl. It was full of water, silver and shimmering. She made me stare into it and your vision appeared.” Gwyneth easily told this part of the tale. It was as fresh as if she’d dreamed it only hours before. “She told me you would face mortal danger. That I was the one who must save your life. It was very important, she said. Vital to the world that you survive.” Aubrey frowned. “I don’t see…” “I know.” Gwyneth cut him off. “And I can’t make you see what I saw or feel what I felt. All I can tell you is that I dreamed a dream that changed my life. This woman helped me understand who I am. And that my skills were being—” She struggled to find the right words. “Summoned, perhaps. Awakened and summoned for use in the future. A future where I would need everything I’d ever learned to rescue you from death.” She glanced up and grinned. “Which I’ve done.” “That can’t be all.” Aubrey watched her, brown eyes curious. “It’s not.” Gwyneth sorted her thoughts. “From that night on, I learned anything and everything I could about the things that fascinated me. I had believed it was…unwomanly to be interested in machines, or science or nature. ’Tis not how we’re taught, we women. Our lives are about raising children, nurturing our family. Yet I knew I was entranced by the workings of the water-wheel. How the drawbridge of a castle is raised. Even the fires of the kitchen and their swinging kettles appealed to me. I could make them better. I knew it. But I would not allow myself to enjoy or explore this need. It was unbecoming for a female to know of such things, let alone wish to understand them.” “Very true.” Aubrey murmured his agreement.

55

Sahara Kelly

“After my dream…I pushed those silly restrictions aside and delved into what really interested me. I learned, Aubrey. I was so excited by all the wonders out there. I spent so much time with the blacksmith, with wise women, with men of science who spoke as if I wasn’t present in the room but spoke all the same, not realizing I was storing up each and every word.” She grinned. “It was wonderful.” “And all of this was to rescue me?” “I didn’t know it then, of course. And not all of it, no.” She shrugged. “All I knew was that I was where I wanted and needed to be. Absorbing the kinds of information I yearned for. When I replaced a broken wheel in our mill and made the gears work better, I was taken seriously. My father gave me more authority around our small manor. I fixed things, improved things—nobody minded or said anything about the girl with the strange notions. They knew me, you see.” Aubrey listened patiently. “And then?” Gwyneth knew her lips were tightening. “Then I married. I left my home for my new husband’s and found I was back to being the perfect woman. But I couldn’t sew or do any of the things I was supposed to.” She stared into the distance. “I was saddened when he drowned. Any loss of life is a waste. But it freed me to return home and find myself once more.” “And yet you wed again?” “These things…” She waved a hand in the air. “They’re arranged, as you know. He was not my choice, but at least he left soon after the wedding. I could exercise my mind a little more while overseeing his properties, but not to the extent I desired.” She looked up to see his gaze resting on her hands, sympathetic and warm. It spurred her to continue her recital. “It was during that time I saw a troupe of tumblers. Strange people with black hair, skin that was almost yellow and eyes the shape of almonds. From the East, they said. One of them, an old man who kept order and seemed to organize the performances, he

56

Fly by Knight

spoke our language. I spent a lot of time with him, and he showed me drawings of strange things. Incredible things, Aubrey.” She leaned forward, wishing she could make him see what she’d seen and understand what she’d gleaned from this wise Oriental sage. “I saw chemicals that one could combine to make the sky light up at night. He had recipes for soaps and lotions using ingredients I could only guess at. Wagons that would run without a bump behind just one horse. And the one thing that stuck in my mind above all the others—a flying machine.” “Aha.” Aubrey’s gaze sharpened as it met hers. “And that’s where you got the idea for our little flying—whatever that was?” Gwyneth nodded. “Yes. I played with that idea for months, wasting handkerchiefs at first, then larger scraps of leftover material. I didn’t know at that time what drove me, why I was obsessed with it. But then—then I heard of Castle Thaxton. I heard of your plight. And I knew the time had come.” “The time?” “Geoffrey Hoddenbury. When he arrived at Thaxton, I knew—as sure as I knew the sun would rise—that I had to come to the castle. I cannot explain how or why I knew. I just did.” She lifted her shoulders in a slight gesture of acceptance. “Your life would depend on it.” “And yet it was some little time after Geoffrey arrived that I found myself…a prisoner in my own home.” Gwyneth didn’t miss the pause in Aubrey’s words. It must have been very hard for him to fall victim to an old friend. “I used the time to find a place for myself within Thaxton Castle. I became Mouse, the dirty scullery boy that nobody noticed. I learned all there was to know about the castle and had chance to make my plans should the need arise. Which, of course, it did.” Aubrey’s face was closed, expressionless, as he listened. Gwyneth couldn’t begin to guess what he was thinking or feeling at that moment, but she knew it wasn’t pleasant. 57

Sahara Kelly

She continued her story. “Once inside, I was able to go anywhere without notice. I was almost invisible, I suppose. And so I set to work, making our magic sail, hiding it in the most likely place. You would not have been thrown into the dungeon since you are of high rank. So the turret was the only other alternative. You’d be surprised how few people even notice a small and dirty servant. I became the Mouse I’d named myself.” He shook his head. “There were so many things that might have gone wrong. So much you couldn’t have known—” “I knew I had to save you. That’s all that mattered.” “Yes, but—” Cyff lifted his head from Gwyneth’s lap, sniffed the air and growled a little. She stroked his head. “All your questions will be answered in time, Baron. But we must move now. We are still close enough to Thaxton for them to find us should they search.” She stood and glanced around. “I doubt they’d know what our sail did, but I would take no chances. Help me bundle it and hide it?” Aubrey rose and did as he was bid. Gwyneth could sense the words trembling on his lips, all the concerns and questions he had were shimmering around his head like a cloud. She’d have the same feelings were their roles reversed and she sympathized with his confusion. But for now they had to travel a fair distance, cross the river and find her home. Once they were there—well, she wasn’t quite sure what would occur. But at least Aubrey would be safe. She’d been gone for many months but knew her people would welcome her back with open arms. Only one person knew the full secret of her disappearance—Hanna, the eldest of her sisters. Gwyneth prayed that Hanna was well and ready to receive her back into her home. And that the rest of the Mor Hafren family didn’t skewer Aubrey as soon as they saw him.

58

Fly by Knight

Of course, this was not a concern she wanted to share with the man himself. She’d just saved him from burning at the stake. No point in making him worry about being slaughtered by a fierce Welsh fighting force. No, one thing at a time, and anyway, Hanna would ensure all went well. “Which way?” He brushed leaves from his hands and tugged at the garment, settling the green homespun fabric more comfortably around his arms. It was definitely tight. Gwyneth realized she’d underestimated Aubrey’s size. She’d underestimated quite a few things, now she came to think of it. Like how she would respond to his smile, or the lust she continually felt simmering deep in her belly for this man. None of that had been part of her plan. She had not intended to feel anything for him. She should merely have rescued him and then moved on with her life. Nothing had ever appeared in her dreams to indicate Aubrey Thaxton would touch something perilously close to her heart. Dragging her thoughts away from a path she wasn’t sure she wanted to tread, Gwyneth merely nodded her head toward the forest. “That way. Deeper into the trees. In a couple of miles, we’ll find the river, cross it and then be safe in Wales.” He grunted. “To my ears, ’tis a strange notion. An Englishman safe in Wales.” “Given that you should at this moment be roasting like a spitted boar, Baron Thaxton, I resent your sarcasm.” He glanced at her and grinned. “Point taken, Gwyneth. Point taken.”

59

Sahara Kelly

Chapter Six It was growing dark when they finally reached what Aubrey assumed was their journey’s end. He’d lost track of how many miles they’d covered, how many damn branches he’d slapped himself with by accident and how many stumps had scarred his boots. More accustomed to riding through forests and woodland, Aubrey found he’d forgotten the joys of a long tramp by foot. He was also as hungry as a bear. On the many occasions when his stomach had rumbled noisily, Gwyneth—damn her impudence—had merely grinned. The creature beside her had cast him an assessing look. Aubrey devoutly hoped the wolf had found something to assuage his hunger and wasn’t thinking about munching on Aubrey. She’d found some berries just after they’d forded the river, and as they let the sun dry them, Gwyneth had encouraged him to dine. Blackberries were the stuff of his childhood and no replacement for hearty Thaxton fare from his own kitchens. Of course, they weren’t his kitchens at this moment. Once again, he found himself dwelling on the fury he knew lurked within him against Geoffrey Hoddenbury. “Don’t brood,” Gwyneth admonished him as she licked blackberry juice from her fingertips. “I’m not brooding. Men don’t brood.” He scowled at her. “Well then, stop thinking about whatever it is that’s making your brows snap together and your face turn into something that would scare children.” She chuckled. “I’d say that was pretty close to brooding myself.” Aubrey ignored her and they’d moved on. But in all fairness, she was right. He was brooding. And mentally kicking himself for being so stupid as to assume Geoffrey Hoddenbury was still the honorable knight, still the friend Aubrey had known in the past. 60

Fly by Knight

He was Aubrey’s liege lord, for Christ’s sake. That meant a lot. Hoddenbury was responsible for a large part of the land bordering Wales. His soldiers kept the peace, put down any rumblings of trouble and guarded against incursions by the mercenaries. Together they’d established a tentative peace for their people. What had changed in the last year? Two words sprang immediately to his mind. Ann Devereaux. Aubrey had known, the minute she’d stepped gracefully into his hall beside Geoffrey, that this woman was trouble. Her attentions to her lord didn’t stop her from flashing her host seductive glances from beneath long eyelashes, or tossing the carefully tousled blonde braids over her breasts, drawing attention to those fine, full white globes. She was flaunting her sex to anyone in breeches, heedless of their rank or her own position as mistress to Lord Hoddenbury. Under other circumstances, Aubrey might have taken her to his chamber and tumbled her. But he knew, as mistress to his liege, that she was off limits. And thus he’d remained immune to her flirtatious laugh, the brushes of her breasts against him as she demanded a tour of Thaxton Castle and even the quick glimpse of her legs as she whisked her skirts up and away from a Thaxton cat. Truth to tell, he’d found her blatant invitations distasteful. He preferred to do the chasing, to be the hunter. He disliked being prey, even for a sensual woman. Which brought his thoughts immediately back to Gwyneth, she of the delectable arse, which was even now swinging from side to side in front of him as she smoothly picked her way through the bracken and the trees. She’d touched him. In some strange way, Gwyneth had touched him like no other woman ever had. Certainly she’d saved his life. But her generosity of spirit and her astounding inventiveness were only part of her. The warmth of her soul and the heat of

61

Sahara Kelly

her body, not to mention the sheer joy of her laughter, all were combined into one slight female who had pierced the shield Aubrey had kept steadfast around his emotions. He found himself trusting her, within such a short time too. Few people in his lifetime had earned his trust—it was not something a baron gave lightly, since much depended on his clear mind and impartial decisions He’d trusted Geoffrey and look where that had ended. In disillusionment, disappointment and the sentence of death. In spite of that, he’d gone from staring into the afterlife to putting his existence in a pair of small hands, fully believing that those hands were working in his best interests. He must be completely mad. Shrugging at his own foolishness, Aubrey followed Gwyneth into a clearing and down a well-trodden path that led to lights showing through the trees. “We’re here.” She glanced over her shoulder. “We’ll go straight to my house. Hanna will have a welcome for us and a meal.” “I’ll not complain at that.” Aubrey’s stomach had given up rumbling hours ago. He was now simply ravenous. The path widened and led into what seemed to be a small village. Most of the houses were tidy, thatched and modest in size, but at one end was a stone building, solid and ancient, two floors in height and bearing evidence of having stood in the same spot for many years. It was to this building that Gwyneth turned as faces appeared and voices sounded, some cheerful and welcoming, others low and muted. She waved to several women and strode briskly to the steps in front of the little manor house. Then stopped as three large wolves appeared on the top step, ruffs bristling and teeth bared. Cyff, who had not left Gwyneth’s side, whimpered. Aubrey felt a skitter of alarm dance along his spine. This was not exactly the warm welcome and meal she’d promised him.

62

Fly by Knight

His apprehension grew as two enormous men appeared to stand behind the animals, arms folded, faces grim. “Hywel.” Gwyneth sounded happy. “I’m home at last.” “I see.” The largest man, bearded and huge of muscle, simply stared at her. “Have you no warm greetings for your sister-in-law?” Gwyneth’s tone faltered. “Where’s Hanna?” The second man stepped forward. “What have ye done, foolish child?” He walked past the wolf dogs and stopped a few feet from Aubrey. “Ye have brought an enemy into our village.” His lip curled and he spat, barely missing Aubrey’s boots. “An Englishman.” “Dafydd.” Gwyneth moved between them even though Aubrey would’ve set her aside and faced this man himself. “I have not brought an enemy here. I have rescued Baron Thaxton from certain death.” “Why?” Hywel still stood motionless above them. Truly the man was enormous. “Would it not have been better to let him die?” “No.” Gwyneth stamped her foot. “What’s the matter with you all? Where’s Hanna?” “Hanna is in the forest. I don’t know when she’ll return. Until then, ye’ll do as ye are told.” The man Dafydd glared at Aubrey. “This one will go in the barn. He can wait on our decision as to what to do with him.” The animals moved as one, silently slinking up to stand beside Dafydd, an imposing and quite frightening mass of fur and teeth and gleaming gold eyes. A tiny sound behind Aubrey alerted him that there was trouble there too. “Gwyneth, there are men behind me. They are armed.” He spoke calmly. This was a fragile situation he’d prefer not to make worse. She spun and gasped. “This is no courteous welcome. Have you all gone mad?”

63

Sahara Kelly

Aubrey risked a glance over his shoulder. As he’d guessed, several men stood there with daggers drawn. Sharp daggers. Teeth on one side, steel on the other. Sometimes events didn’t go quite as planned. This was clearly one of those times. “Sister.” Hywel spoke sharply. “This man is our enemy. ’Tis late and darkness approaches. Whatever you have to say in his defense will wait until the morrow. Perhaps my wife will deign to return by then and help us understand why you would betray us this way.” “But—” “You heard what I said.” Hywel cut off her protestations. “Be thankful ye won’t spend the night in chains next to him,” Dafydd growled, a sound echoed by the animals next to him. She turned a worried face to Aubrey. “Baron—I’m sorry—I don’t—I didn’t—” He shook his head. “’Tis no matter, Gwyneth. If I’m to face death, I’d rather it be on the point of a sword than in the fires around a stake. At least you’ve given me that much. For that, and for my rescue, I thank you.” The men closed in and Aubrey felt his arms drawn behind his back and roped together. He sighed. It really had been too much to hope for—the glimpse of freedom he’d been granted. But he’d told Gwyneth nothing but the truth. He’d rather die as a warrior should die than roast like a suckling pig, screaming while the flames ate at his flesh. With one last look at her stricken face, Aubrey allowed himself to be pushed away, around the side of the house to a very solid structure, which his nose told him was the barn. The scent of animals and hay was rich in the twilight and they drew him past the stalls where several horses whinnied and stamped their feet at his passing. Deep in the shadows, they pushed him against a wall, released his bonds and then imprisoned him in the chains that dangled from high above him. This had clearly been a place of confinement for others before him.

64

Fly by Knight

Without a word, they left him. He tested his manacles, but the fixtures were strong, the clamps around his wrists solid and thick. There was enough slack in the chains for him to ease his back down the wall and sit on the hay beneath, which was something. He could rest his limbs at least. But damn it all, he was still hungry. He wished he could face whatever tomorrow brought with a full belly. Sighing, Baron Thaxton settled himself within his chains, his arse finding minimal solace in the rough straw beneath it. He ignored the sharp pangs of his empty stomach, closed his ears to the sounds of the animals unsettled by his presence and closed his eyes. Moments before sleep claimed him, he realized one odd thing. He missed Gwyneth.

***** “What do you mean he’s gone?” Geoffrey Hoddenbury had started the day with one hell of a fuck. Now it was quickly turning to something less appealing. “Gone, Lord. Just not there. The door to the turret was unlocked and Baron Thaxton was nowhere to be found.” Geoffrey sighed and suppressed the little leap of joy that had crept into his throat. He didn’t want to have to kill Aubrey Thaxton. But circumstances had led him to this point. If an angel had seen fit to spirit Aubrey away, then Geoffrey wouldn’t cavil at the whims of heaven. “Begone. I’ll dress and go down to the main hall. Send the captain of my guard to await me there.” “Yes, Lord.” The servant withdrew. Barely had the door closed behind him when Ann erupted from her hiding place. “Gone? How can he be gone? He cannot be gone.” She ignored the remnants of her water bowl, grabbed a shawl and paced angrily up and down the room. “He was

65

Sahara Kelly

secured. That room was impenetrable. God damn it all, the wood was laid and ready. He should be on his way to the fires even now.” Her color was high, her temper bristling from her in sharp waves, and her fury suddenly brought Geoffrey up short. As if someone had waved a magic wand over his brain and dispersed the sexual haze, Geoffrey Hoddenbury took a good long look at his mistress. And wasn’t sure he liked what he saw. Certainly her body was flawless. Her skill at fucking was unparalleled. But this display of anger caught him by surprise. Geoffrey knew he was weak where women were concerned. But usually he wasn’t a fool. Perhaps—perhaps this time, he had been. He rose from the tumbled bed and reached for his clothing. “You are disturbed, my dear.” “Of course I’m disturbed. This man was a witch, Geoffrey. You heard the evidence, you agreed with the verdict. You sentenced him yourself. Such things cannot be allowed to undermine your rule. Whispers of the dark arts in a castle under your jurisdiction—do I need to tell you of the repercussions?” Her breasts rose and fell with her passionate arguments, ripe, round mounds barely concealed by the light shawl. In spite of the circumstances, Geoffrey’s cock stirred in response. But this time, instead of seizing her and fucking her once more, he commanded his manhood to be still. “I’m concerned, as you might imagine. But until we find out where he’s gone and how, I see no need for this display of anger. The sentence has been passed. What matter if it be delayed a few days?” Geoffrey fastened his tunic and buckled his sword belt around his waist. “Most likely we shall find his body lying shattered beneath the turret. There was no other way out of that chamber, Ann. You know that.” He observed Ann’s shoulders relax a little. “You’re probably right.” She stared out of the window, oblivious to him for a moment or two. “But if he should have escaped…” Geoffrey’s sixth sense leaped as if stung. “If he’s escaped? Then what, Ann?” 66

Fly by Knight

With newly sharpened eyes, he watched her gather herself together. Her smile, when it appeared, was calm and sensual. “Why then, we shall recapture him, Geoffrey. Nothing must be allowed to undermine your power, my Lord.” She moved to him and rubbed herself against his body. “You must show yourself as the strong and noble knight I know you to be.” “By burning Aubrey Thaxton?” He kept his eyes on her face. “By being yourself, my love. By being the voice of authority and order. ’Tis up to you to keep your lands peaceful. Others look to you for guidance. You must show them how to go on. How to rule as a mighty lord should rule. With wisdom and courage, and sacrifice if necessary.” She purred into his ear. “Even if it means sacrificing a villain who was once your friend.” Her hand slid down to his cock and stroked it. “You are a mighty man in our bed. I would that the world sees you as a mighty noble.” Unsettled, Geoffrey moved away from that soft grasp. “Mayhap you have the right of it, Ann. But for now we must find out where Aubrey is. Or at least find his remains.” He spun on his heel and walked from the room, leaving Ann Devereaux with an empty hand, a frown on her face and a worried look in her eyes. He saw none of it, anxious to learn more of his disappearing prisoner. And, deep in his heart, relieved that his morning repast wouldn’t be followed by the sight and sound of a man dying in flames. To hell with his image. Sentencing anyone to burn at the stake was not something he took lightly. But the evidence against Aubrey had been startling, to say the least. If only he’d defended himself. Explained his actions, or at least tried to argue for his own innocence. As Geoffrey strode down the stairs to the main hall of Thaxton Castle, his temper stirred. Damn Aubrey. Not a word had passed his lips when Geoffrey had passed his verdict. Just a look. And that look—one of disgust, anger and disappointment—haunted Geoffrey Hoddenbury. It probably always would. 67

Sahara Kelly

***** Gwyneth crept quietly to the barn, her thoughts confused and mixed with a healthy dose of anger for her family, her people. She’d hoped to bring Aubrey to safety. Instead she’d delivered him into chains. Hywel hadn’t even bothered to explain himself, although Gwyneth’s maid had told her of the increased numbers of skirmishes that had claimed some of their men. Strange battles they were too. More ambushes than outright confrontations. It was as if the English fighters were lying in wait for the Welsh. Now, apparently, an air of distrust was creeping through the villages like the stink of an overripe midden, unsettling everyone, especially those who sought to protect the innocent. People like her brothers-in-law Hywel and Dafydd. Good men, but soldiers by necessity in these disturbing times. She’d been gone several months. Much had changed, and not for the better. Tucking her bundle beneath her arm, Gwyneth eased open the door to the barn, ignoring the muffled snorts from the horses within. She was aware, however, of the low grumble in the throats of the two wolves Dafydd had stationed as watchdogs in the stable yard. She could not—dare not—free Aubrey. But she could at least feed him. The sound of his snores greeted her as she picked her way through the shadows to the back wall where he was chained. She knew this building like the back of her hand, but it was still dark inside, the moonlight only dusting a few areas with silver. She knelt beside him in the straw and reached out to touch his shoulder. Her skin tingled at his heat, her heart thudded at his nearness. By the saints, she’d taken a massive tumble for this man. He’d claimed her as fully as anyone could ever imagine. And all within an explosive few moments of their first meeting. “Dare I hope you have food with you?” His voice was whisper soft and lazy, yet Gwyneth jumped all the same. He hadn’t moved a muscle or opened his eyes—still he knew she was there. “Shhh. Yes. I’ve 68

Fly by Knight

brought food. I refuse to let you starve to death after I went to all that trouble to rescue you.” He finally moved, sitting a little straighter and lifting his lids. His dark eyes glinted as the moonlight moved to illuminate their little corner of the barn. “I am so hungry, I could eat one of those beasts.” He nodded at the stalls. “Raw.” Gwyneth unwrapped a hunk of bread. “Here.” She looked at his arms, still chained to the wall. “Can you manage or shall I feed you?” “I could stand, I suppose. Then I could eat by myself.” A grin curved his lips. “But I think I’d prefer you tend to my needs, sweetling. A prisoner should have something in the way of pleasure, don’t you think?” She nodded as she broke a piece of the bread and held it to his lips. “I’m sorry, Aubrey. Truly sorry. Matters have changed since I was last here.” He devoured the bread and the cheese she’d added to her little store, then managed to drink some fresh water from a small vessel. “Ahh. Never has a meal tasted better, nor the service been as charming.” He grinned at her. “Come kiss me, Gwyneth. ’Twould be the best sweet course I can imagine at this moment.” “How can you jest at a time like this?” “I’m not jesting. Kiss me. The thought of your lips has been all that sustained me here.” Aubrey’s gaze drifted over Gwyneth’s body. “Well, your lips and a few other things…” “Aubrey…” There was so much she wanted to say. But her mind was traveling in one direction while her heart was following its own path. Obediently, she leaned in and kissed him, tasting the food and the flavor that was unmistakably him. “Mmm.” He hummed into her mouth. “More.” Wickedly, she drew back and offered him more bread. “That wasn’t what I meant and you know it.” He sighed but took the food anyway.

69

Sahara Kelly

“I’m sorry,” Gwyneth apologized again. “I daren’t release you. Dafydd’s dogs are on guard outside. They know me, but were you to try to flee…” Aubrey swallowed. “No need to explain. They aren’t dogs, they’re wolves. I have no urge to test their temper.” “Dogs,” she muttered under her breath. “Big dogs, I’ll grant you, but dogs nonetheless.” Aubrey snorted but kept his thoughts about the animals to himself. “What’s changed, Gwyneth? What’s happening?” “I wish I knew.” She frowned into the darkness of the barn. “It seems things have gone badly for our fighters. There have been many small battles, ambushes—the English lying in wait apparently. We’ve lost too many good men, Aubrey. My people are wary now, suspicious of everyone, afraid to trust or talk too loud, lest someone be listening.” She shook her head. “It’s awful.” Aubrey was silent for a moment or two. “I know naught of this, Gwyneth. Granted I’ve been imprisoned for several months, but before then there was no mention of anyone betraying your people.” He shifted and the chains rattled, bringing a soft growl from outside the barn. She ignored it. “So you have no notion of a traitor to the Welsh giving information to English soldiers?” “None. None at all.” He paused. “Gwyneth, I would have you know this endless fighting is not by my choice. If there had been a way to forge peace along our borders, I would have worked night and day to make it happen.” “My people know that, Aubrey. They may be afraid, but they did not kill you on sight. That’s one of the reasons, I believe—they know you for a man of solid character. One who is fair and will listen before drawing his sword.” “It’s all so damnably stupid. Life is enough of a challenge without going round and seeking out battles. This endless squabbling and killing—it serves no one. Were we to come to terms, then your people and mine could join forces and learn from each other. 70

Fly by Knight

You have fishermen who know the river and the ocean with a wisdom we couldn’t hope to attain. We can farm and grow crops that perhaps you Welsh might not have thought of. There is so much to be gained by setting aside our differences.” He took a breath. “And too much to be lost by dwelling on them.” “If only we had the chance to talk, to work out something between our people…” Gwyneth’s voice trailed off. “But with you in chains and my people afraid of their own shadows, I’m not sure I can see a way through this muddle.” “I couldn’t speak for anyone other than the Thaxton fiefdom either. The land is held for Geoffrey Hoddenbury. His would be the word…” Aubrey’s voice trailed off too. Gwyneth knew the conversation had turned to an area that must be painful for him. His long friendship with his liege was no secret. She couldn’t begin to imagine how he must have felt hearing Hoddenbury’s voice pass a death sentence on him. There were no words to help, so Gwyneth followed her instincts. She leaned against him once more and found his lips with hers, kissing him as deeply and as passionately as she was able, hoping to divert his thoughts into slightly more pleasant channels. It worked. Aubrey returned her kiss with heat and tongue and a desire that jumped between them like summer lightning. Just the taste of him was enough to start shivers coursing through her pussy and spawning moisture that quickly dampened her bare thighs. She ached for this man, her need infusing her with a soul-deep yearning, something that went beyond a desire to fuck him, to have his cock inside her. No, this was more. This was a passion that could only be fulfilled over a lifetime of such kisses, such couplings. A passion that would deepen as the years passed, as they made a life and a family for themselves. It was the first time Gwyneth could ever recall aching to bear a man’s child, to rise with him and greet each morning together for the rest of her life.

71

Sahara Kelly

His chains rattled as his arms moved, bringing a louder growl into the silence around them. “Shhh.” She breathed the word against his lips. “Let me.”

72

Fly by Knight

Chapter Seven Never had Aubrey been loved with more passion, more sweetness. Gwyneth moved to him, slithering from her robe, straddling him, naked and warm as she pulled his skimpy garment aside and bared his skin to her touch. Knees on either side of his thighs, she lifted herself, letting her breasts tease his lips, knowing he wanted to taste her, to suckle those hard buds and fill his mouth with the flavor of her body. She was honey and ripe fruit, flowers and sunshine, nipples as hard and as sweet as the tiniest cherry on a late summer morning. She sighed softly as he laved her breasts, rubbing herself against whatever part of him she could reach. And when she reached down between them to find his cock, Aubrey had to fight against the groan of pleasure thudding in his throat. He cursed his chains, cursed her people for binding him so tightly and cursed Hoddenbury for getting them both into this mess in the first place. But at the first slick brush of her pussy over the head of his arousal, all his curses vanished into thin air. She sank down slowly onto his cock, enveloping him in her snug silky heat, taking the breath from his lungs and all thoughts from his head, save ones of her and her body and what she was doing to him. He caught the tiny gasp of delight as they touched fully, skin to skin, cock to cunt, merging like the blade of a sword sliding home into its sheath. As if enraptured by their joining, Gwyneth paused, resting with Aubrey’s length fully buried inside her, tiny shivers dancing over her skin where it touched his own hard flesh. “Gwyneth, my love…” The words came from his mouth, his lips—his heart. For she had truly captured him and enslaved him with no more than the force of who she was. 73

Sahara Kelly

Even bound and chained to a wall, his future existence tenuous, his lifespan uncertain, Aubrey knew that this moment was beyond price. If he died tomorrow, he could do so knowing he’d found his woman—his mate. As she began to move, a slow but passionate rhythm that drew him with her, his heart opened for the first time. And he let Gwyneth in to take her rightful place. They loved for endless moments, drowning in each other’s pleasure, giving and receiving, Aubrey struggling against his inability to hold her close, to grasp her soft buttocks in his hands. He could do nothing but accept the gift she gave him, take his release within her, let her ride him in any way she chose. With simple and loving desire, she gave herself to him, her breasts full and tender, her lips warm, her pussy wet and heated and wrapped around his cock in an embrace that was as innocently sweet as it was sensually arousing. There were no ruses, no tricks to prolong their ecstasy. No sense of a maid pleasuring her master or a man seeking to prove his bedskills to a woman. They were just two people joined in an act of passion, loving each other with their bodies while their hearts whispered all the things their lips could not. It was new for Aubrey, something rare and to be cherished. He swore to himself at the instant his cock began to throb within Gwyneth’s cunt that he would find a way to free them both. And then claim Gwyneth as his own. “Aubrey…” She whispered his name, hushed and sweet with the lyrical touch of her Welsh voice. Her body was shaking now and he could feel the ripples beginning to caress his cock as she neared her peak. He was coming too. Not a thing in the world could stop him from emptying all that he was into her hot, silky sweetness. He groaned and thrust upward, his release upon him, spurting deep—oh so deeply—into Gwyneth. Her spasms answered him, pulling his cock with strong, throbbing pulses, milking him, her cunt drinking his seed thirstily while tiny whimpers of pleasure escaped from her throat.

74

Fly by Knight

Blind with the exquisite sensation of his peak, Aubrey sailed free with Gwyneth once more. Not in the air or leaping from a turret this time, but in the simple act of love. She clung to him as they shattered, her heat warming him, her arms around him, her heart thundering in her breast. His heart was thundering too, a counterpoint drumbeat sounding the explosion of his body and matching Gwyneth’s harsh breaths. Finally, panting and limp, they crumpled, a tangle of arms and limbs and mouths that sought and kissed, then kissed again. Long minutes passed as they lay thus, lovers weary from their exertions but unwilling to part. Then a whimper and a woof disturbed them and Gwyneth lifted her head. “I must go. ’Tis probably Hywel. He doesn’t sleep well without Hanna beside him.” Aubrey sighed. “I can sympathize. I think I will not sleep well without you beside me, love.” She struggled to her feet and tidied herself. “Nor I, Aubrey. I don’t understand all this, but I do believe good shall come of this. We have not found each other only to lose each other.” She moved away from him, feet dragging a little as if loath to leave. “The Gods could not be that cruel to us.” Aubrey yawned widely, body exhausted now. “I shall dream of you. Or try to.” He shifted again. “A bed would be preferable, but thoughts of you will ease my rest.” “Sweet talker.” She chuckled softly. “I’ll see you in the morning.” “That you most certainly will. Good night, Gwyneth.”

***** As she had guessed, Hywel stood on the steps of their home, arms folded, face set in hard lines, watching Gwyneth as she walked toward him. “You’ve been with him, then?” “I have.” She faced him without shame or embarrassment. “I love him, Hywel. He’s the one. Nothing you can say or do will change that.” 75

Sahara Kelly

“He’s English, lass. Our enemy.” “Not mine. Nor yours, I believe.” She moved to stand beside him and look out into the darkness. “There’s a good heart there. A mind that isn’t closed or full of hatred toward us. He’s a man who doesn’t judge on the spur of the moment, but listens.” “You’re talking like a woman, Gwyneth. Can’t see beyond the end of his cock.” She snorted. “Did you not know the instant you met Hanna that she was for you?” He shuffled his feet a little. “Aye. I knew. But that’s different. We are the same, Hanna and me.” “You are a man—she’s a woman. When it’s right, Hywel, all else makes no matter.” “There’s much to think on, Gwyn. These are hard and dangerous times. The English would take our land if they could. We’re losing good men to fights that shouldn’t have started in the first place.” “And would we not take their land too? Haven’t our soldiers done their fair share of raiding across the river onto English soil?” Gwyneth’s hands went to her hips as she faced her brother-in-law. “Be honest, Hywel. Both sides are guilty in this. Both must share responsibility.” Hywel sighed. “I wish your sister was home.” The note in his voice touched Gwyneth and she moved close, leaning against his massive arms and nodding. “As do I.” “Then both your wishes are about to be granted.” The voice made them both jump and Hywel spun around to search for its owner, nearly knocking Gwyneth off her feet. “Hanna. You’re back.” He hurried to her and picked her up in his arms without a blink, kissing her hard and squeezing a squeak out of her with the force of his embrace. “I’d like to live a while longer to enjoy it, husband. Let me breathe!” Hanna laughed softly into Hywel’s face and kissed him back.

76

Fly by Knight

“Hanna.” Gwyneth neared them, too excited to see her sister to worry about interrupting their private reunion. The wolves twined silently around the three of them, tongues lolling, heads butting legs, telling the humans how pleased they were to see their mistress return. “Gwynnie.” Hanna’s voice was full of pleasure. “You’re back. You must tell me all of your adventures.” Gwyneth finally caught a glimpse of her sister’s face in the low light from the house. “Hanna, you’re exhausted.” Purple shadows rested beneath Hanna’s eyes and her face wore lines of tiredness. Her gown was filthy and torn and her feet muddy. “You must rest now.” “Indeed, she must. Nothing is so important it cannot wait until the morning.” Hywel tenderly carried his precious burden up the steps, avoiding paws and tails and Gwyneth, who hovered around the two of them. “It’s been a long journey. But I found what I needed.” Hanna smiled and rested her head on Hywel’s shoulder. “Let me sleep a little and tomorrow we shall talk.” She looked at Gwyneth, one of those deep, penetrating glances that Gwyneth knew of old. “You have much to share with me, don’t you?” Gwyneth smiled. “I do, sister. I do indeed. But it will wait.” Waiting, however, wasn’t easy. It involved a lot of tossing and turning on Gwyneth’s part, her mind turning over the events of the past days, searching for answers and finding only Aubrey there, smiling at her. She punched her pillow for the twentieth time and tried to rest, but he lingered, the taste of him still on her lips, the feel of him still hard and hot between her thighs. She desired him passionately, loved him intensely and was shocked silly by the force of her emotions, which had apparently crept up on her and struck her like a bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky.

77

Sahara Kelly

Sleep must have claimed her at some point, although Gwyneth felt as if she’d just closed her eyes when noise roused her and dim light filtering in through her window told her that dawn had arrived. Edgy and anxious, she dressed and hurried downstairs to join her newly reunited family. She needed her sister’s wisdom and counsel, more than she’d ever needed it before. Hanna was wise in so many ways. Possessed of insights into people, a knowledge of natural matters that would have put a wise woman to shame and often revealing an almost mystical gift to anticipate the future, Hanna had stood beside Hywel and led their village for quite a few years. Everyone respected her, few would argue with the rightness of her decisions—and most of their women had benefited from her knowledge in one way or another, Gwyneth included. In England, where such matters were treated less casually, she might well have been accused of witchcraft. Like Aubrey. The thought of him sent her flying into the massive kitchen, ready to seize whatever food was available and rush to his side. She was brought up short by the sight of the man himself, dressed now in villager’s simple clothes, although his feet were hobbled by a strong rope between his boots. He sat at the table, surrounded by several tall Welshmen. And his eyes heated when he looked up and saw Gwyneth enter. “Well.” It was all she could say. The place seemed crowded with people, chatting, eating, moving around—but it might just as well have been empty of everyone but Gwyneth and Aubrey. He was all she could see and her gaze roamed over him, drinking him in like a refreshing mug of cool water on a hot day. “Good morrow, love.”

78

Fly by Knight

She saw his smile and heard his words over the buzz of conversation, answering with a smile of her own. Taking a step forward to join him, a firm hand caught her elbow and stopped her in her tracks. “Wait, Gwyneth. We need to discuss this.” It was Hanna. “But—I—he—we—” “I know.” Hanna nodded and hugged her sister. “But we must settle matters first. Find out all the facts. Make a plan.” She smiled. “I will not let them harm your man, Gwynnie. I can see your heart in your eyes. And I see his heart there too.” Gwyneth turned to face her sister. “I love him, Hanna. More than I ever imagined I could love a man. It’s happened so suddenly—yet there it is.” She shrugged. “I cannot question my feelings. If he is allowed to leave here, I shall go with him. Not because I no longer care for you or my family, but because I belong at his side.” “Don’t worry, little one.” Hanna turned to the room. “It’s time.” She called out the words and, as if by magic, everyone fell quiet. “Hywel?” Hanna looked at him. “Are all gathered?” “Outside, as you asked.” He nodded. “Let’s join them.” She led the way from the kitchen through the doors and into the early morning sunshine, closely followed by Gwyneth, her family and Aubrey bringing up the rear with his silently attentive entourage. Hanna pointed to him and made sure he was standing to one side, where he could see and be seen by the assembled villagers. Of whom—to Gwyneth’s amazement— there were many. “Who are all these people, Hanna?” She whispered the words as her gaze roamed over the crowd. “Other villages have been destroyed. Their people came here for help and shelter.” Hanna gestured with her hand. “Now hush, Gwyn. We have business.”

79

Sahara Kelly

She moved to stand beside her husband, leaving Gwyneth to stare at Aubrey. How calm he looked. But she could almost feel the tension in his muscles and see the little pulse throbbing at the base of his throat. “Good people.” Hywel spoke then, voice strong, carrying over the heads of those in front of him. “Hanna has returned from her journey. Our sister Gwyneth has returned also. Our women are home with us, but one has not arrived alone.” He nodded his head toward Aubrey. “Gwyneth has brought an Englishman amongst us. A baron she rescued from the fire of the stake. Our first task is to decide what to do with him.” Aubrey stood tall, listening to the words, refusing to acknowledge the mutters and murmurs that boded ill for his continued existence. He kept his gaze locked on Gwyneth, drawing strength from her, almost feeling the love arching between them. He wasn’t surprised to see her shake free of her sister’s hand and cross through the crowd toward him. He was surprised when she arrived next to him, took his hand and turned to stand by his side. “Know you this.” Her voice rang clear and stilled the low chatter. “This man is a good man. There is a reason the Gods smiled upon my rescue of him. I don’t know what it is, but I believe it is just. And know this also.” She leaned against Aubrey. “Whatever you decide for him, you decide for me too. My life is his now. I am his.” Hywel nodded and raised his hand. “My sister has avowed her allegiance to this man. We shall accept it.” He frowned at her. “We may not like it very much, but she has the right to choose her path.” Hanna agreed. “We have always held that a woman should choose whenever possible. My sister has trod in her own ways for most of her life. She’s wed twice and I doubt there are any here who would gainsay her the right to pick her own man this time?” Nobody ventured to disagree, which was a relief to Aubrey. He couldn’t fight for Gwyneth, much as he would’ve liked to. He knew she belonged right where she was—

80

Fly by Knight

at his side, holding his hand. He was just glad he didn’t have to prove the point by slaughtering half her village in an attempt to persuade the other half. His fingers tightened around hers and he risked a glance at her green eyes, finding them filled with a joy that warmed his heart. How he prayed he’d have the chance to explore a life with Gwyneth. The next few minutes would probably dictate that possibility. “Baron Thaxton,” Hanna addressed him somberly. “You were accused and found guilty of witchcraft.” He nodded. He could not deny the truth. “By your own liege lord, I understand.” “Correct, Madam.” “Was the charge false?” Aubrey snorted. “Of course it was false. There’s no such thing as witchcraft.” There were snickers here and there and one woman laughed outright. Hanna ignored them. “Your beliefs aside, we would know more of this matter. Why were you sentenced to burn at the stake? What evidence was laid against you that would result in such a savage ruling?” Aubrey exhaled, a long calming breath. It would seem he must again relive the events of many months ago. He just hoped they wouldn’t end the same way. “Madam.” He faced Hanna. “The events that branded me a witch were in no way related to the dark arts, if—in fact—there are any. Something I strongly doubt, since man possesses more in the way of evil and ignorance than the Devil ever could.” “I won’t debate that point right now, since I would probably agree with you.” Hanna tilted her head. “Go on.” “I was returning with a small troop from a far corner of Thaxton lands. There’d been some trouble with bandits attacking travelers to Thaxton Castle. They’d established a small camp in that area.”

81

Sahara Kelly

Aubrey clung tightly to Gwyneth’s hand as the events of that fateful day returned to his mind in full force. The images were as fresh as if they’d occurred within the past twenty-four hours. “We’d settled matters. Persuaded the remaining outlaws of the error of their ways. Suggested they move elsewhere. Everything, I thought, was done. Then, as we moved out, I heard a cry.” Aubrey swallowed. How to explain it so that they’d understand? “It was a slight sound, but enough. A woman’s cry. She was suffering.” Gwyneth’s hand moved within his grasp, but she remained silent. “I followed the sound, my men behind me. We found her, lying in the ferns, struggling to give birth.” “She was alone?” Hanna’s voice was sharp. “Quite alone.” Aubrey nodded. “I’ve not delivered a child before, but I have done many similar things around my castle. I’ve delivered calves and foals. I’m not a stranger to the process.” Hanna nodded. “As it should be. Continue.” “She was in trouble. The babe was not coming and her face was ashen, almost gray. Her cries—well, they were mere whimpers. I could not tell how long she’d labored, but it was clear things were not right.” “A breech birth?” Hanna asked the question calmly. Aubrey shook his head. “No. The feet were not showing. The babe was simply refusing to be born.” He straightened his shoulders. “I could not leave her to die. I took a risk, one perhaps I should not have taken. But in my past, there’s been violence and bloodshed. I’ve seen men take a sword to the gut and live to tell the tale. For one mad moment, I asked myself why I could not cut the babe from this woman’s belly and save her life.”

82

Fly by Knight

Stillness fell over the crowd, disturbed only by the chatter of crows in the treetops. “I took my sharpest dagger and gently opened the woman’s womb. The babe was within, squirming, the cord snug around its neck.” He paused once more, gathering his thoughts. “There was much blood. But at that point I could do nothing other than remove the babe, free it from its mother and attempt to repair the damage I’d done.” “My God, Aubrey.” Gwyneth’s voice was a breathless whisper beside him. “To do such a thing…” “I know. I must’ve been mad.” He shrugged. “But I did it, nonetheless. We travel with medical supplies, of course. No knight does otherwise. It took some time, but I stitched what I could and the bleeding stopped. The babe was crying, living, moving in the arms of one of my men.” He stopped then, the thought of what he’d done sweeping back over him in full force. “After the woman was sewn, we waited, trying to soothe the babe who wanted nothing more than to nurse at her mother’s breast.” He looked up at Hanna. “It was a girl. A daughter. So tiny and perfect, squalling louder than church bells on Sunday.” “And?” Hanna leaned toward him, as if she too was spellbound by this tale. “And—our prayers were answered. The woman opened her eyes. She was weak, too weak to hold her child, but we held daughter to mother and they managed what nature intended.” “This was deemed witchcraft?” Hywel’s voice was strangely soft. Aubrey nodded again. “Yes. One of my men stayed behind and I heard later he’d found women in a small village to care for her and the babe. I know not what became of them both, although I confess I’d like to. However, word began to spread. Whispers of what I’d done. Instead of asking me about it or confronting me with questions, rumors that I’d torn the devil’s child from a woman’s belly circulated. You know well how some people are. Ready to believe the worst without a moment’s consideration.” Hanna nodded, eyes dark with sympathy. “Yes. I do know that very well.”

83

Sahara Kelly

“Not long after that, my liege lord arrived. The whispers grew louder and I was called on to account for my actions.” Aubrey knew his face had probably turned sour. This part of his tale hurt more than any other. “Lord Hoddenbury was—deeply concerned—at the rumors. He worried that such things would undermine his authority over the shire. He felt it incumbent upon him to deal with the situation. And since I was the situation, he dealt with me.” Aubrey paused. “Harshly, as it turns out.” “I take it your tale was not met with fascination or interest?” “No. It was met with horrified stares, much chest-crossing, prayers for my salvation and condemnation from priests and physicians alike for interfering with God’s plan. From that point on, many of my own people avoided me. Eventually Geoffrey found himself in the position of having to sentence me.” Aubrey’s throat closed for a few moments as he relived the worst betrayal he could have imagined. “When I heard his final judgment, I knew I would die. What was worse—knowing it would be at the order of a man I had previously considered my friend.” For a few moments after Aubrey had finished, quiet hung over the villagers as they digested his tale. Then there was a mutter or two, a murmur and Hanna raised her hand. “I think we should discuss this matter amongst ourselves. Gwyneth, you may go with this man back to the barn. He need not be chained, since I doubt he has anywhere to go.” She looked into Aubrey’s eyes. “Can I trust you not to harm us?” “Of course.” Aubrey met her look without hesitation. “As you rightly pointed out, I have nowhere to go. I certainly have no desire to do harm to anyone.” He glanced down and smiled. “Especially now.” Gwyneth smiled back. “Very well. Grant us an hour. We shall return here and give you our judgment.” Hanna turned and re-entered the house, followed by Hywel and several women. Dafydd nodded at his men and followed the others inside, leaving Aubrey and Gwyneth to retrace his steps into the damned barn once more. 84

Fly by Knight

“I really am growing to hate this place.” Aubrey sighed. “’Twill not be long, if I know my sister.” Gwyneth sounded cheerful enough. “Don’t worry.” She sat on a bale of hay. “Did you really cut open that woman?” Aubrey sat beside her and rubbed his hands over his face. “I did. Even now, the thought of what I did sends chills up my spine.” “But you saved her. And her daughter.” “I know. It wasn’t the Devil guiding my hand, but some angel from above, I’m thinking. All could have ended so badly, Gwyneth.” “It didn’t.” She leaned against him, her warmth comforting him more than Aubrey realized. “They lived, thanks to your quick action. I don’t know of another man who would have done as much. Or even thought to try it.” “I must have been mad.” She grinned. “Probably. After all, you jumped off the turret with me, didn’t you?” He nodded. “Good point. I am mad. Completely and utterly mad.” He nuzzled her head with his chin. “So why do you care so much about me?” “I suppose I’m mad as well. We make a perfect team, Aubrey.” He smiled. “Have I mentioned I love you? ’Tis madness to say that, perhaps, but since we’re both insane, I ask myself why not?” Gwyneth sighed, a deep satisfied sound. “I love you too.”

85

Sahara Kelly

Chapter Eight “Aubrey Thaxton.” Hanna stood beside Hywel, her arm linked with his, once again above the villagers who must have stayed for the excitement. It seemed only a few minutes had passed before Aubrey and Gwyneth were marched back out to face whatever lay ahead for them. “Yes, Madam.” Aubrey waited. “It is the decision of this village that you were unjustifiably accused of witchcraft. Therefore we find you innocent of that charge.” Aubrey’s breath caught. He’d not realized how much it meant to him to hear those words. “However,” continued Hanna, “you are English. As you know, little in the way of friendship exists between our people at the present time. We would find it easier to pardon you of all your sins were you Welsh. Therefore, to grant you that nationality, we will wed you to one of our own. You are hereby sentenced to marry Gwyneth Mor Hafren and spend the rest of your life making her happy. You will become part Welsh as soon as the matter is settled.” Hanna’s face was tranquil, but Aubrey swore he could see a grin lurking behind those lips. “I—uh—” he stuttered. “Do you wish to marry Gwyneth?” Hywel barked the words at him. “Yes. Definitely. Of course I wish to marry her.” Aubrey managed to spit out the affirmation.

86

Fly by Knight

“How about you, Gwynnie?” Hywel glared at her from under his dark bushy eyebrows. “Are you sure you want to live for the rest of your life with someone who can’t speak our tongue?” “Don’t be silly, Hywel. Of course I want to marry him. I’m in love with him. What does it matter what language he can or cannot speak?” Gwyneth sounded quite incensed. “Good.” Hywel nodded. “Then it’s done. You’re wed.” He spun on his heel. “Thaxton, come with me. We need to talk.” “But—” Gwyneth looked as shocked as Aubrey. “You mean we’re—” Aubrey’s brain refused to function past the words you’re wed. “Yes. Now hurry up. We’ve matters to attend to.” “A moment.” Aubrey turned to Gwyneth. “Is this what you want? Truly want?” He cupped her face in his hands. She stared back at him, a dawning happiness lighting her eyes. “Without a doubt, husband.” He smiled then, bringing her close and kissing those lips of hers with every ounce of passion and delight he could pour into such a simple gesture. She was warm and welcoming, opening her mouth and flicking her tongue against his, her hands sliding around him to hold him close. “There’ll be time enough for that later, man. This is important.” Hywel sounded mildly irritated. Reluctantly, Aubrey drew back, feeling the loss of Gwyneth’s touch all the way to his toes. “Yes, there will time. But by the saints, I wish it were right this minute.” “Me too.” She licked her lips, stirring his cock with the simple movement. “But Hywel’s not one who likes being kept waiting.” “Neither am I. We shall get back to this, my wife.” Aubrey spoke the word with pride.

87

Sahara Kelly

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” Her grin was both wicked and charming and it was all Aubrey could do to restrain himself from taking her right then and there in front of her whole damn village. Of course, it was probably his damn village now too, but who cared? He sighed. Duty first. Then pleasure. And oh what pleasure it would be to get his Gwyneth naked in a real bed and enjoy her for as long as they both wanted. Which would be for a lifetime, God willing. With a last lingering look, Aubrey turned away from his new wife and followed his new brother-in-law into the house.

***** “My Lord?” Geoffrey Hoddenbury raised his head from the large ledger on the desk in front of him. He’d come to the Thaxton lord’s chamber after sending a few soldiers out on what he considered a futile mission to recover Aubrey’s remains. This was where the business of the land held sway, books full of neat script recording harvests, livestock, births, deaths and other matters pertaining to a thriving estate. Aubrey had done a wonderful job too. Geoffrey envied him his neat penmanship and the detailed accuracy of his books. There were others doing this task for the Hoddenbury holdings, extensive and sprawling as they were. It would be too much for one man alone. Soon he would have to return to his own keep and see to business there. He’d spent too much time here at Thaxton. Unpleasant time it had been, as well. He rubbed a hand above his ear where a dull throbbing headache was setting in and looked at Ann Devereaux as she stepped into the chamber holding a large goblet, which was probably filled with wine. Geoffrey found he had no taste for either the wine or the woman at this particular moment. “What is it?”

88

Fly by Knight

A seductive smile curved her lush lips and she swayed across the stone floor to his desk, putting the wine next to his hand. “Wonderful news, my Lord. The prisoner has been found.” Geoffrey sat up straight. “His body?” Ann shook her head. “No. Somehow he lived. But he’s fled to some outlandish little Welsh village on the far side of the river. ’Twill be a minor matter to recapture him and carry out your sentence.” She almost danced around behind his chair. “Is this not the best news?” Geoffrey remained silent, unresponsive to her hands as they massaged his shoulders and caressed his neck. “You are not tasting your wine. I had thought my news would be cause for a celebration.” “How did you learn of this? My men are not returned yet.” She chuckled softly behind him. “Women talk more than you might think, my Lord. I heard—things. Rumors. I merely asked the right question of the right person. The fact that a wedding took place and a strange Englishman now finds himself wed to a Welsh slut…as you may imagine, that is news indeed.” “Married?” Geoffrey’s head tilted. “He’s wed?” “So it would seem.” Geoffrey’s thoughts whirled. Aubrey yet lived. An enormous sense of relief flooded his brain and his heart. He’d not been content with the way things had gone at Thaxton Castle, but had yielded to the pressure of his advisors. He frowned. Or had he? There had been so much wine, so much drinking—there were whole passages of time he could not recall with any clarity. Yet as he sat and considered things, one fact rose to the surface.

89

Sahara Kelly

It had been Ann, more than anyone else, who had urged him, pushed him, forced him into a position of passing the death sentence on his friend. And, weak man that Geoffrey was, he’d allowed it to happen. A bellyful of wine and a pair of openly inviting thighs had been enough to sway what should have been a considered and thoughtful decision. He’d rushed along the way he’d been led, with the result that a good man could have been dead and buried this day. Geoffrey found himself devoutly thankful that Aubrey wasn’t a blackened carcass. And with the sober, wine-free clarity of thought, he began to take serious stock of his own situation. As if following through on his notions, he pushed the wine aside. “Ann, why do you believe Thaxton should die?” “I, my Lord?” She moved away from his shoulders and rested one hip on the arm of his chair and Geoffrey realized her pose was calculated to present her breasts to their best advantage. “I want only what is good for you. For your lands. Nothing more.” “And yet methinks you’ve been most adamant about this matter. It seems I recall you voicing your strong opinion about witchcraft. And you were the first to use that word in connection with the baron’s actions, were you not?” She waved a hand lightly. “I cannot remember. But I’m sure I was not the only one. Witchcraft—” She broke off and shuddered delicately. “Well, it’s not something to treat lightly, is it?” “Thaxton lands are in good heart, you know.” He gestured at the ledgers. “Would a man involved with witchcraft take the time to ensure such things?” She stared at him for a few moments, her face expressionless. Then she laughed. “You jest with me, I’m sure. Come, drink. Celebrate.” A white hand pushed the wine closer.

90

Fly by Knight

Geoffrey ignored it. “I have no interest in wine. Nor do I care to be lied to, Ann. I’m seeing things clearly this day, more clearly than I’ve seen in some time. For whatever reason, it would appear that you deliberately set out to destroy Aubrey Thaxton. I want to know why.” For an instant it seemed as if a flicker of fear passed over her features, but then she smiled once more. “I only want what’s best for you, my love.” She reached for him but he pulled back. “Really?” He lifted an eyebrow. “We shall see.” Standing up and putting the desk between them, Geoffrey moved away from her. “Since you apparently know where this village lies, I shall go there and speak with Aubrey.” She stood too. “Speak with him? Arrest him, you mean. The man is a condemned witch. He must burn, Geoffrey.” She twisted her fingers together in an unusual display of emotion. “’Tis a small place. There are few men left to defend it. Take your soldiers with you. See that justice is done to these foul Welsh curs.” He shrugged. “If it’s that small a village, I’ll need naught but a few of my strongest knights.” He lifted his chin. “I’ll ride out within the hour. I would speak with Aubrey first. He was once my comrade at arms. He deserves the chance to explain himself.” Ann moved to his side and rubbed herself against him sensuously. “I shall come too, my Lord. My place is with you.” Once again Geoffrey stared at her, wondering why he’d never seen the cold calculation in her eyes even as she seduced him with her body. “Would you fuck me, Ann? Here? Now?” Her hands slipped to her bodice and she slowly unraveled the lacings. “Of course.” Her breasts emerged, white and splendid, nipples hard and ready. She touched herself, making them rosy and ripe. “See how I ache for you? Always wanting you, my Lord. Always needing your lips, your cock inside me…”

91

Sahara Kelly

Her hands went to her skirts as if to lift them high, but he stayed her movements with a shake of his head. “Just asking.” He turned away and left the room.

***** “So there you have it, lad.” Hywel kept a steady gaze on Aubrey across the massive wooden table. Aubrey nodded and leaned back, stomach finally replete with good Welsh food and a tankard of extremely tasty ale. “You’ve a traitor in your village.” Dafydd frowned. “Not one of our people, I’ll wager. Most likely one of the newcomers. As the fights took lives, many came to us for shelter. We’ve done what we can for them, since we’ve food to spare and a good number of places they can settle if they’ve a mind to.” “I must say, first off, I’ve heard naught of this at Thaxton, or at least I hadn’t when it was under my control. If someone’s betraying you to the English, it wasn’t to my people or my keep. We’ve defended ourselves against bandits and those who would prey on our lands. And yes, there’s been a skirmish or two when some Welsh marauders thought what Thaxton owned was theirs for the taking. I’ll not apologize for that.” Aubrey looked at the men around the table. “I protect what’s mine.” “But it wasn’t good enough to protect you from your liege lord, was it?” Dafydd lifted an eyebrow. “Apparently not.” Aubrey pushed away his empty plate with an angry gesture. “I still don’t understand that. I fought beside Geoffrey Hoddenbury. We took up arms together. Watched men die together. That’s not a bond easily broken.” “Think you it was a plot?” Hywel spoke quietly. “To what end?” Aubrey glanced back at him. “My death would leave a valuable part of his shire without a leader. Geoffrey has his own estates, a large holding, plenty of money. He doesn’t want Thaxton.” 92

Fly by Knight

“Maybe somebody else does.” Aubrey thought about that, ideas spinning rapidly through his brain. “Consider it, lad.” Hywel leaned his arms on the table. “Thaxton is in a very precious position when it comes to the river. You’ve trade routes opening up. A commanding view of miles around. It’s easily defensible too. A rich, well-kept castle with a good strategic position—well, it’s ripe for plucking, I’m thinking.” “But…” Aubrey waved his hands helplessly. “Who?” Dafydd chuckled. “We’ve a mind to find the answer to that question.” He stood and shooed out most of the men in the room. When there were only a few left, he turned to Aubrey. “Here’s the plan.” At that moment, a flare of fire erupted in the pit outside the kitchen and Gwyneth swore as she jumped back. “Damn it.” She turned the spit on which the boar was roasting over the glowing flames. “The fat nearly caught me.” “Be careful, Gwynnie.” Hanna glanced over at her. “We don’t want to send you to your bridal bed with burns on that skin of yours.” Gwyneth snorted. “That won’t happen. Trust me.” She hid the slight tremor in her hands that had shuddered through her at the thought of her wedding night. “As long as I get a wedding night, I’ll be happy.” “I thought you’d already had one.” Hanna giggled. “Or two.” Gwyneth felt the blush rise over her cheeks. “Hanna.” “’Tis good he makes you turn red as the fire, love. There’s passion between you two. And more. I’m happy with your choice.” Sighing, Gwyneth nodded. “Aye. There’s all that and more, Hanna. So much more.” Another woman joined them and gave Hanna an intense look. “’Tis done, ma’am.” “Good.” Hanna took a breath. “All is ready then. We’ve done our part. Now it’s up to the lads.”

93

Sahara Kelly

“To do what?” Gwyneth blinked at her sister. “Never you mind, sweetheart. ’Tis time you prepared yourself for tonight. There’s a bath waiting in your room and you might want to put on a fresh gown. ’Tis not every night you celebrate your joining now, is it?” “I suppose not.” Gwyneth frowned. “Hanna, what’s going on?” Hanna shook her head. “Nothing you need worry about, Gwynnie. Matters must be settled. Hywel is taking care of it right now.” “And Aubrey?” “He’ll play his part, never fear.” Hanna sniffed the meat and scattered a little more rosemary over it. “He’s a good man, Gwyn. He’ll give you a good life. Providing you don’t mind being his baroness and running Thaxton Castle.” She glanced over at her sister. “Try not to fix too many things. It can be upsetting to a lot of men to see a mere woman improving on their machines.” “You think we’ll get the Thaxton lands back?” Gwyneth’s worry spilled over into her voice. Hanna’s eyes turned dark in that particular way that her sister knew meant she was looking past the present and into places only she could see. It was her gift from their mother, this strange sense of worlds invisible to everyone but Hanna. She’d known charges of witchcraft herself. Gwyneth had understood how she’d respond to Aubrey’s situation. Although she’d wanted to laugh when he’d openly admitted he didn’t believe in such matters. He should see Hanna now. “Yes, you will return to Thaxton. You will be happy with your man. Everything else…” She paused, her eyes returning to their normal color. “Well, everything else is up to you, love.” She laughed. “And if you’re to start on the right foot, you’d better go and clean yourself up. What groom wants a bride who looks as if she’s been cooking all day?”

94

Fly by Knight

“Aubrey wouldn’t care.” Gwyneth grinned. “And I’ll put on the gown. But I’ll wager it’s on the floor within minutes of our door closing.” “Wanton hussy.” Hanna laughed with her. “Only with him.” Gwyneth darted to Hanna, kissed her cheek and then turned to the house. “Thank you, sister. I love you.” “I love you too, Gwynnie. Be happy.” “I intend to.” She hurried into the house and up to her room where, as Hanna had promised, a bath awaited her, warm and fragrant with the scent of freshly picked lavender. Gwyneth inhaled and then sighed as she shed her clothing and immersed herself to her chin. Relaxing was impossible, of course, since her thoughts could do nothing but revolve around her wedding night with Aubrey. Although they’d already loved, touched each other, seen all there was to see of each other, somehow tonight would be different, Gwyneth just knew it. She leaned her head back against the rim of the tub and closed her eyes, letting the soft scent of the water drift around her. The warmth eased her tense muscles and her mind began to drift past images of her new husband… “Ye have done well, Gwyneth Mor Hafren.” Gwyneth tried to open her eyes but her lids seemed strangely heavy. When she finally parted them, she saw not her room, but a place she vaguely recognized and a woman standing beside her, smiling. “You!” She tried to move but could not. “I saw you in my dream. So long ago.” “Aye, ye did.” The woman reached out and brushed Gwyneth’s cheek. “And ye have proved yerself a fine Hussy.” “I—I—don’t understand…”

95

Sahara Kelly

“I know. It matters not. What does matter is that ye’ve completed most of yer mission. Ye’ve rescued the man who needed rescuing. All is as it should be.” “I didn’t know I’d love him.” The woman’s smile deepened. “Do we ever know who we shall love?” She glanced away. “My Ragna…always in my heart, whether I will it or no.” “Who are you?” “My name is Danu, not that ye’d know it. And I chose ye, Gwyneth, to fulfill the most important of missions in the name of my Hussies.” “Me?” “Aye. Only women worthy of being Hussies can accomplish what needs to be done. Vital things, Gwyneth. It was absolutely necessary that Aubrey Thaxton survive. I cannot tell ye why, only that it had to happen. And thanks to ye, it will.” “So all will be well.” Gwyneth’s body relaxed. “Aye. There’s more to settle, but ye’ll manage it. And ye’ll do so with my thanks.” “I have so many questions…” Gwyneth struggled against the lethargy flooding her limbs. “I want to know…” “Ye know all ye need, Hussy Gwyneth. Live a long and happy life. Be true to yerself and yer man, for yer final task lies within ye.” The image of Danu faded and Gwyneth jumped, splashing water over the side of the tub and onto the floor. “Well.” She rubbed her eyes and looked around. She was quite alone in her room. “That was most strange. What lies within me?” She sniffed at the water, wondering if Hanna had slipped in one of those odd herbs that induced sleep or something. But it was the simple fragrance of lavender that danced into her nose, nothing more complex than that. She shrugged, chilling a little as the water cooled. It was time to prepare for her wedding celebration. And her wedding night with Aubrey.

96

Fly by Knight

Time to put the odd dreams of a woman named Danu behind her. Although she hoped that someday they might meet again. She rather liked the idea of being part of a greater plan. And given what she was thinking about her new husband, the word Hussy certainly fit like a glove. Smiling wickedly to herself, Gwyneth hurriedly began to wash her hair. She couldn’t wait for the loving to begin.

97

Sahara Kelly

Chapter Nine Aubrey’s breath caught in his throat as he watched Gwyneth walk toward him, flanked by Cyff and her sister. Slim and clad in something pale and green, she glowed in the evening light. Her hair swung in silky shades of midnight around her shoulders, the tiny flowers woven around the crown merely highlighting her beauty. She could have worn sackcloth and he’d not have noticed. It was the joy radiating from her that captured his breath and his heart. “Mine.” The word formed on his lips as she came to his side and took his hand, smiling at him, her green eyes sparkling with love. “Yes,” she whispered back. “Always and forever.” They were standing in front of Hywel’s house, surrounded by a throng of villagers, women holding flowers and laughing, men glancing at the clearing nearby where great trestle tables groaned beneath the weight of fragrant dishes to be enjoyed after this brief blessing. There were other things happening too, Aubrey knew, a carefully thought-out strategy that all involved hoped would succeed. Much depended on Hywel’s confidence in his men and Aubrey’s knowledge of Geoffrey Hoddenbury. It was a gamble, but one Aubrey felt was based on solid odds in their favor. He prayed he was right as he and Gwyneth turned to receive official blessings on their marriage. Brief and in Welsh, Hywel acknowledged the union and Hanna stepped to his side, offering both Gwyneth and Aubrey a sip from a well-worn goblet. A simple ceremony, yet filled with the light of the setting sun and the overwhelming pleasure both of them felt at this special moment in time.

98

Fly by Knight

They were now truly bound together as husband and wife. From this moment on until their lives would cease. Such a strange set of circumstances, mused Aubrey. From certain death to a life full of more happiness than he could ever have envisioned. Who knew how intricate were the coils of Fate? Certainly not him. He had everything he could ever ask of Fate, the heavens and the Gods right beside him. He had Gwyneth. Oh and he was alive too. Which made enjoying it so much the sweeter. As soon as Hywel had finished speaking, Aubrey turned to Gwyneth, intending to kiss her without further delay. But the sound of horsemen and harnesses jingling interrupted the moment. Gwyneth froze in his arms and gulped as she turned slightly to see what Aubrey had been hoping to see. Geoffrey Hoddenbury and half a dozen or so of his knights. Accompanied by Ann Devereaux. Aubrey released her and moved to stand in front of her, facing his liege lord. “Good evening, Geoffrey. Have you come to add your blessings to my marriage?” The horses fretted as the knights casually moved their hands to the hilts of their swords. Hoddenbury sat still, his eyes shadowed by his helmet. “This is a surprise, Aubrey.” “What, that I’m alive or that I’m wed?” “Both, as a matter of fact.” Ann Devereaux’s gray palfrey sidled close to Geoffrey’s horse. “Kill them all now, my Lord. Otherwise you will seem weak.” She glanced around, her veil flying from her circlet. “Look at them. Savages. There is naught to fear here. Your knights will dispatch them swiftly if you but give the word.” Hoddenbury barely glanced at her, merely motioning her to silence with his hand. “I’d prefer there be no bloodshed. These people have done nothing to harm you or your men.” Aubrey spoke calmly.

99

Sahara Kelly

Hoddenbury nodded. “I agree. I am here to talk, Aubrey. Not kill. I have decided to revoke my sentence upon you. ’Twas ill thought and wrong.” Ann Devereaux’s gasp was audible in the quiet of the evening air. “My Lord.” “Quiet, woman.” Hoddenbury finally stared at her. “You are responsible for a good portion of this mess. I shall settle matters with you after we’re done here.” He dismounted, ignoring her little cry of protest. “Sir.” Hoddenbury looked at Hywel. “May I have your permission to approach my friend?” Hywel stared back as if taking his measure. Then he nodded. “You may.” Geoffrey removed his helmet and tucked it beneath one arm. “Then I need not worry your archers will pierce my spine with their arrows?” “Archers?” Hywel lifted an eyebrow. “Aye. The ones in the trees around us. ’Tis either a goodly number of your men or the birds in Wales grow much larger than they do in England.” Aubrey chuckled. Geoffrey might be a weak man in some areas, but he was still a good knight with all his wits about him when it came to battle. His companions clearly weren’t as acute, since their lord’s words had made them dart quick appraising looks up into the thick foliage. “You are safe. For now.” Hywel remained still. Geoffrey nodded and moved to stand in front of Aubrey. “I apologize, old friend. I was wrong. Very wrong.” He looked down for a moment. “I have no excuses other than too much wine and a weakness of spirit that nearly caused your death. However you escaped, I know not. Please just accept that I’m glad you did.” Aubrey opened his mouth, but Ann Devereaux was before him. “You fool.” She slid from her horse and stalked up to the men. “You could have had it all. You could’ve put someone useful into Thaxton Castle. Someone who would do your bidding.” She spat the words furiously at Geoffrey, but it was Aubrey who answered.

100

Fly by Knight

“You mean someone to do your bidding, don’t you, Mistress Devereaux?” He met her gaze. “Someone like Sir Cedric Wrexham?” She shrank beneath his stern look. “I don’t know what you mean.” Geoffrey blinked then looked at Aubrey. “That popinjay?” Aubrey nodded. “That popinjay is looking for his own demesne. He and your lady leman here have a prior—relationship, shall we say. She’s been feeding him information about the Welsh soldiers, allowing him to wage quite a few successful forays into this land. He’s building himself a little army, Geoffrey. Thaxton Castle would have been perfect for his needs.” “You’re mad. Both of you.” Ann stomped her foot defiantly. “My Lord—Geoffrey, please—” She lay a hand on his arm. “You cannot believe this foolishness.” He shook her off with ease as he considered Aubrey’s words. “Shropshire. Wrexham is from Shropshire. As are you, if I recall, Ann.” He nodded. “’Twould make sense. Wrexham is not a strong knight, nor a bright one. But with the right information, anyone could achieve success. A network of traitors, a foreknowledge of one’s enemies’ whereabouts—good God.” He turned to face Ann. “He could have overthrown me.” Ann paled. “You can’t think—” Aubrey moved then, releasing Gwyneth’s hand and standing beside Lord Geoffrey. “I do.” He knew he was right. “Your eventual goal was to rule this shire beside Wrexham, wasn’t it, Ann? Geoffrey could be easily managed, you proved that. With your sources feeding Wrexham everything he needed to know—it was simply a matter of time before Geoffrey became vulnerable and could be disposed of.” “And your sources are now—unfortunately for you—nonexistent.” Hywel spoke at last. “My wife discovered their whereabouts. We don’t deal well with traitors, Mistress. Those people you found after one of your friend’s incursions? I’m sure you recall the ones—you threatened their families with death if they didn’t reveal our plans.” He glanced at Aubrey. “’Tis my belief, lad, after seeing this one, she’d have done it herself too.” 101

Sahara Kelly

Aubrey nodded. “Without a doubt.” Hoddenbury swallowed. “What an incredible fool I was.” Hywel shrugged. “Yes, you were. And you’ll not be the last to be swayed by a willing pair of thighs, lad.” “It could have ended so badly. It was too close, Aubrey.” Hoddenbury’s eyes were haunted as he looked into the face of the man he’d called friend for so long. “I nearly had you killed, man. I would have if you hadn’t fled—” He paused. “Just how did you escape, anyway?” Aubrey grinned and reached for Gwyneth. “You have to meet my wife. She’s the heart of the tale. And now she has my heart as well.” “You’re all mad.” Ann Devereaux stepped away from them, her face white, her mouth twisted. “I can’t believe this is happening. It can’t happen. This is not the way I’d planned for it to happen.” Geoffrey’s eyes narrowed. “You will return with my men to Thaxton Castle and await my return. In the dungeons.” He looked at his knights. “Take her.” “Nooo—” In the blink of an eye, she spun and ran into the forest, her skirts held high in both hands, rapidly vanishing into the deepening shadows. “Damn it.” Hoddenbury swore then motioned to his men. “Wait, Lord.” Hywel’s voice stopped them from dismounting to pursue her. “Let us take care of this matter. She’s been a foul bitch to some of our people and as a result a lot more have died. If you’ll be so kind as to leave it for us, we’ll finish it.” Hoddenbury nodded. “I want no more blood on my hands, that’s for certain. If you can catch her and deal with her appropriately, I’ll be grateful, sir.” “We will.” He snapped his fingers and spoke a word in Welsh. There was a flurry of fur, several low growls and then silence.

102

Fly by Knight

“Er, were those wolves?” Hoddenbury swallowed nervously. “Certainly not, my Lord,” Gwyneth finally spoke. “Those were our dogs.”

***** “I really don’t see why everybody gets this odd look on their faces when I talk about our dogs.” Gwyneth closed the bedroom door behind her and turned to face her husband. “There’s nothing wrong with having dogs, you know.” “Hmm?” He was staring at her. “Aubrey?” She tilted her head to one side. “Are you listening?” “Yes, of course.” He blinked. “No. Come here. Take your clothes off. Touch me. Kiss me.” Gwyneth chuckled. “All at once or in any particular order?” “God, I don’t know. I do know that I’m going to expire if I don’t get my hands on you within a minute. I thought this moment would never come.” He struggled with his own clothing, hopping on one foot as he tugged at his boot. Unfastening her robe, Gwyneth laughed. “Well, at least everybody’s getting on with each other.” She slipped her surplice over her head and folded it neatly next to the pile of Aubrey’s clothes he was tossing on the chest. “You know, I’d like to hope our wedding will bring peace to both our people, Aubrey. What do you think?” She unlaced her chemise and let it fall to the floor. Aubrey simply looked at her. “I can’t think at all.” He licked his lips, naked and ohso ready, cock hard, muscles gleaming in the candlelight. He took a step toward her, then another. “Come here. No. Stand there. I want to look at you.” Clearly marriage muddled a man’s brains, because he grabbed her into a fierce embrace, crushing her naked body against his and not doing any looking whatsoever. His lips were warm and hungry and Gwyneth readily parted her own, welcoming his tongue into her mouth. He tasted of ale, spiced meats, sweet fruits and himself, a wonderful blend of flavors that she devoured readily. 103

Sahara Kelly

His hands roamed her back, her buttocks, her shoulders—they seemed to be everywhere at once. Of course, she was doing her own stroking as well. Their bodies fit, a perfect match of curve and dip, softness and hardness. Within moments, the flare of passion ignited between them, Gwyneth’s nipples hard and so very sensitive against Aubrey’s hair-dappled chest. His cock rose solidly, pressing into her belly, as damp on the swollen tip as her pussy and her thighs. Just his touch, it seemed, was enough to send her halfway to the paradise of their peaks. His kisses and his hands and his body—well, they combined to advance the journey by leaps and bounds. “God, wife. You drive me mad.” Aubrey tore his mouth from hers and reached for her buttocks, lifting her off her feet and walking her to the wall. “Put your legs around me. I can’t wait—” Neither could Gwyneth. Willingly she raised herself, grasping his waist with her thighs, letting his cock find exactly the right spot—then gasping out a cry of pleasure as he thrust himself inside her all the way, fiercely, lovingly, desperately— “Oh yes.” He paused, leaning his damp forehead against hers. “Oh Gwyneth, love. Am I hurting you?” She shook her head. “No. I want this. I want you. So much…” She tightened the muscles low in her body, holding his cock tightly within her. It belonged there, they belonged like this, joined exactly like this. There could be nothing else in the world to match it, no other pleasure that could be half so right. Aubrey took a breath then began to move. Slowly, with quivering muscles and lungs that heaved against her breasts, he lifted Gwyneth, letting his cock slide from her almost until it fell away. She gasped. “No, please…” A groan mingled with his laugh. “Never fear, my sweet. You’ll not lose me now.” He lowered her back onto his slick cock even as she tightened her legs around him to hold him within. 104

Fly by Knight

“Ooohhh…” Gwyneth’s eyes closed as Aubrey urged them into a rhythm that exactly filled her needs—and her empty spaces. Slow at first, they stroked each other, silk to steel, every movement exciting, every breath shared between them. The wall was hard against her back, but no harder than the man inside her or the muscles bunching in his shoulders as she held on and rode him, relishing the strength with which he held her and the tender thrusts that took her breath away. She felt the tension ripple through him as her own arousal flamed in her veins. “Do it, Aubrey. Fuck me. Hard. Now. Please—” It took no more than that—a whispered plea of encouragement, a sigh and a moan of delight. Aubrey’s body tightened and he slammed into Gwyneth, rapidly and forcefully, bouncing her down onto his cock, grazing just the right place with his body each time it crashed into hers. She grunted, low growls of pleasure, the air driven from her lungs even as Aubrey gasped for his own breath. They took each other—there was no question that each shared this moment, each offered all they could, each took everything they wanted and more. It didn’t take long for them both to shatter, Gwyneth shuddering and crying out as the explosion of passion took her and threw her into the blinding light of her release. She was vaguely aware of Aubrey’s groan—harsh and rough as his cock spurted hot seed deep within her. The fiery eruption echoed the spasms of her cunt as it suckled his cock and drained it dry. For endless moments they hung there, clasped to each other, drinking from each other’s peak, sharing that moment unique to lovers. Then Aubrey drew a shaky breath. “God. What a way to begin our wedding night.” He looked apologetic. “I never thought of myself as the kind of man who’d fuck his wife up against the wall.” Gwyneth grinned. “I did.”

105

Sahara Kelly

An answering smile curved Aubrey’s mouth. “You’re a wanton hussy, my love. I’m a lucky man to be married to you.” “Funny.” Gwyneth slid her legs down and staggered a little as her knees threatened to give way beneath her. “I’ve heard that said before. But not quite in the same context.” Aubrey walked slowly to the side of the room, looking very much as if he was having a little difficulty with his own knees. “Wine?” He held up a goblet. Gwyneth nodded. “Mmm. Please.” They shared the cool liquid, laughing, touching each other, marveling in the pleasure of their loving. Aubrey made her giggle by insisting on playing ladies’ maid and cleaning his seed from her and when Gwyneth returned the favor… It was long before they slept. There was so much to explore, so much passion to experience, so much love to share. Beneath it all was the awareness that the shadow of death had brushed them and that it was a miracle of sorts that they had found each other and now were wed. Somehow, thought Gwyneth as she lay tucked beneath the covers in her husband’s arms, somehow that knowledge made the loving different. It had never been like this for her. Comforted by her new husband’s snores, Gwyneth smiled. There were still strains of music coming from outside as the party clearly continued in full swing. Perhaps this could be the start of peace between the Welsh and the English. In a small way at least. If they could stand each other long enough to share food and drink and music—well, who knew? Idly, she spared a moment to wonder about the fate of Ann Devereaux. But then she stopped wondering. She knew. Dafydd’s dogs never failed to reach their prey. It was a harsh and terrible way to die. But try as she might, Gwyneth couldn’t feel sorry about it. The woman had sentenced Aubrey to burn at the stake. There was no worse death than that, nor worse sin in Gwyneth’s lexicon. 106

Fly by Knight

“Can’t sleep?” Aubrey’s lips brushed her hair. “You snore.” She kissed his shoulder. “Liar.” He chuckled, his chest rising and falling beneath her head as she settled closer to him. “Tired?” “Yes, I think so. Almost too tired to sleep. But so happy, Aubrey.” She blinked up at him, his eyes shining beneath heavy lids, barely catching the light of the last remaining candle. “In case I forgot to mention it, I love you.” “I love you too.” “I’m not sure—” “Sure of what, love?” Gwyneth sighed. “I cannot know what sort of mistress I’ll be for you and for Thaxton, Aubrey. I’ve never been a baroness with responsibilities before…” “You’ll be the perfect baroness, sweetling. Because you’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted beside me. Together, there won’t be a damn thing we can’t do.” He rested his head back against the pillow. “You know, it occurs to me that I have this massive fireplace in the big hall that I never use because it smokes. I think there’s something wrong with the design of the flue. D’you think you might…” His voice tapered off as he slipped into sleep. Gwyneth grinned to herself. Oh yes. She definitely would.

107

Sahara Kelly

Epilogue Baroness Gwyneth Thaxton did indeed fix the flue in the fireplace of the great hall at Thaxton Castle. She also rebuilt the forge for the blacksmith, improved the waterwheel and was about to begin designing better windows when her inventive skills were interrupted by the birth of Hugh David Thaxton. Hugh was followed by his sisters Elaine, Morwen and Brigid, another brother, Justin and finally, just when both Aubrey and Gwyneth had decided their parenting days were over, a tiny girl with unusual blue green eyes and a lusty wail. Gwyneth named her Danu. The family ran the castle ragged, of course, as families do. Hugh grew strong and tall, arriving at adulthood in spite of four sisters and a younger brother, as eldest sons must. He’d inherited his father’s strength and intelligence and his mother’s interest in mechanical things. At three, he’d attempted to redirect the waste from a garderobe so that it flowed more efficiently—something not appreciated by those in the path of the new outflow—and by six, Hugh had begun to build his own boat, aided by his Welsh uncles who visited from time to time. He’d also developed a fondness for dogs. His pets terrified visitors and castle residents alike, until they realized that, yes, they probably were dogs. They might strongly resemble wolves, but what wolf would lie on its back with its paws in the air, grinning, while a boy rubbed its stomach and chuckled? Aubrey and Gwyneth merely nodded, smiled and hugged their son. As he became a man, Hugh took over much of the responsibility for Thaxton from his father. And to his surprise, when news arrived of the passing of their Liege Lord, Geoffrey Hoddenbury, Hugh was summoned to the Lord’s seat. 108

Fly by Knight

Aubrey accompanied him and they were both stunned to learn that Geoffrey had made Hugh his heir. Never having married nor ever recognizing any offspring, Geoffrey’s will specified that Hugh Thaxton should assume the duties of Liege Lord and commanded those in the shire to accept this decision. Which they did, by and large without complaint. Hugh was a much-liked young man with a sound head on his shoulders and a family who had earned the respect of their people. So it was that some years later, a delegation headed by Lord Hugh Thaxton finally created the first peace agreement between the English and their Welsh neighbors. When the news reached his mother, she stopped in her tracks, stilled by the realization that the long-ago prophecy of a strange dream-woman named Danu had finally come to pass. The last task had been inside Gwyneth and the world around them had now changed for the better. Her last task had been their son. Hugh.

109

About the Author Sahara Kelly was transplanted from old England to New England where she now lives with her husband and teenage son. Making the transition from her historical regency novels to Romantica™ has been surprisingly easy, and now Sahara can’t imagine writing anything else. She is dedicated to the premise that everybody should have fantasies.

Sahara welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

Also by Sahara Kelly A Kink In Her Tails A Siege of Herons A Watch of Nightingales All Night Video: For Research Purposes Only All Night Video: At Cross Purposes An Unkindness of Ravens Anasazi Lassie Beating Level Nine By Shadows Bound Detour, written with S.L. Carpenter Ellora’s Cavemen: Dreams of the Oasis II anthology Flame of Shadows Game Over Georgie and Her Dragon The Glass Stripper Guardians of Time 1: Alana’s Magic Lamp Guardians of Time 2: Finding The Zero-G Spot The Gypsy Lovers Hansell and Gretty Haunting Love Alley, written with S.L. Carpenter The Knights Elemental Lyndhurst and Lydia

Madam Charlie Magnus Ravynne and Mistress Swann Mystic Visions Partners In Passion 1: Justin and Eleanor, written with S.L. Carpenter Partners In Passion 2: No Limits, written with S.L. Carpenter Partners In Passion 3: Pure Sin, written with S.L. Carpenter Perfect Whore Persephone’s Wings Peta And The Wolfe Scars of the Lash Scars of the Soul Shadows of Thérese Sir Philip Ashton’s Eyes Sizzle The Sun God’s Woman Tales of the Beau Monde 1: Lying With Louisa Tales of the Beau Monde 2: Miss Beatrice’s Bottom Tales of the Beau Monde 3: Lying With Louisa Tales of the Beau Monde 4: Pleasuring Miss Poppy Wingin’ It

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

www.ellorascave.com