Chapter
XXVI

Two days after saving Christian’s life again, Nora was overseeing the spinning of wool when Arthur burst into the spinning room, out of breath and flushed with agitation.

“Lady, they’re fighting again, and I can’t find the Earl.” Arthur skidded on the flagstones as he tried to halt his flight. His foot knocked the leg of a spinning wheel, and the maid who was using it tried to cuff him. Arthur ducked and pranced out of reach. “Hurry, my lady!”

Nora lifted her skirts and dashed out of the chamber. Running behind Arthur, she only caught up with the boy at the door to the gallery. Though closed, she could hear Blade’s angry tones through the panel.

“I won’t do it.”

Christian replied in his lilting minstrel’s voice, which caused Nora and Arthur to exchange looks of dread.

“How foolish of me to expect you to be grateful.”

Nora hastened to enter. Knowing that sweet tone marked the coiling of her husband’s temper, she hurried to join him. He was sprawled in a chair in the bay of a window, long legs hanging over one of the arms. Dark hair gleaming in the sunlight and ruby earring flashing, he toyed with a sealed letter.

Christian glanced at Nora but returned to his lazy inspection of the seal on the letter. “The whelp summoned you to defend this ungrateful churl.”

“How haps it that such defense is needful?” Nora asked. “I so enjoyed these brief days of peace.”

Throwing up his hands, Blade snorted and jerked his head in Christian’s direction. “I won’t be herded like a sheep anymore. And I should be grateful for being prisoned in towers, beaten, and harried?”

Yawning, Christian suspended the letter between thumb and forefinger and began to swing it to and fro. Nora tried to read the name on it, but the parchment swung too quickly. She could see that, as intended, Christian’s nonchalance dug into Blade’s hide. The youth balled his fists and hissed curses under his breath. Before he could erupt into action, she darted her hand out and snatched the letter.

“This is for you,” she said. She held it out to Blade, who put his hands behind his back.

Christian rose from his chair and slouched against the frame of the window. “He won’t take it. Stubborn as a hired nag. My father sent emissaries to his father, all that way to the border and back, and now he sticks at reading the reply. I’m going to tie him to this chair and read the thing aloud to him.”

“Whoreson pig-tupping ass.”

Christian leapt from his slouched position to Blade’s side, but Nora was ready for him. She dashed in front of her husband at the last moment and grasped his arms. Responding naturally, Christian enfolded her, then groaned as he realized his defeat. Over her head, he threatened Blade.

“If you don’t clean your dockside tongue in Nora’s presence I’ll cut it out.”

“Please, both of you,” she said. “I’m weary of this bickering. Blade, why won’t you read the letter from your father?”

Turning away, Blade said nothing.

“Come on, marchpane,” Christian said. “Answer Nora, for it will be easier than answering me.”

Quelling her husband with a look she’d learned from him, Nora went to Blade and put her hand on his shoulder. “You’re afraid.”

Blade nodded.

“Christian was afraid to face his father once, too.”

Christian growled at her. “Nora!”

“He feared,” she went on, “that the Earl wouldn’t want him once his name and deeds were blazoned throughout the kingdom.” Blade nodded again, and she squeezed his shoulder. “But the Earl cared naught for any of it. He loved Christian and wanted him back. Does your father love you?”

Blade’s chin almost rested on his chest from his efforts to hide his face, but he managed another nod.

She held the letter out. “Then this can only be a message of love and rejoicing, and you need not fear to read it.”

She waited patiently and at last heard a sigh. She edged the parchment nearer, and Blade took it. He stared at the seal, rubbing it with his thumb. Nora left him to take Christian’s hand and urge him down the gallery.

“I don’t want to go yet,” Christian protested. “He might not read it, and I promised to send him north with an escort.”

She jerked his hand, refusing to let it go as he hung back. “Heaven’s mercy, I wish before God that someone had taught you that you can’t govern the course of everyone’s life.”

A hand snaked around her waist, and Christian swept her up in his arms, carrying her out of the gallery. He kissed her as they passed a gaping Arthur.

“Beshrew Blade. I’ve found someone else who takes much more governance. And I’ve a yen to try my hand at it in bed.”

“Christian, I was spinning.” Nora kicked her feet as he climbed the stairs to their chamber two at a time.

“You can spin beneath me if you’re able.”

“You’re a lewd man,” she said as he paused at the head of the stairs to bury his face between her breasts.

“Yes.” Christian’s voice was muffled. “Remember to thank God in your prayers.”

A se’night later, on a cool and misty morning, Nora stood at Christian’s side and waved Godspeed to Blade as he rode across the drawbridge on his way north to his father. Blade’s fears had receded, and she was only a little apprehensive about his safety, since the Earl accompanied him. Christian assured her that even Jack Midnight wouldn’t attack an earl and his party of soldiers and knights.

Rubbing drops of mist from the tip of her nose, she waved one last time. Christian took her hand abruptly and began pulling her into the manor house and up the stairs.

“What are you doing?” She still couldn’t accustom herself to Christian’s tempestuous behavior.

“Hurry. We must change and be gone quickly if we’re to be in time.”

She clutched the banister as he hauled her behind him. “Gone? Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Minutes later Nora found herself dressed in a coarse wool petticoat and a gown that laced up the front. Her hair was covered with a white cloth, and she wore a cloak whose fabric sported shiny patches denoting its age. Christian matched her in his wool stockings, leather jerkin, and scuffed boots. He donned a plain soft cap, which he cocked at a jaunty tilt before grabbing her hand again.

“Come,” he said.

Nora hung back, opening her cloak. “I can’t. Look at the neck of this gown.” She dodged Christian’s groping hands. “No, sirrah. I’ve a caution of you when you turn that fierce wolf look on me.”

“But sweeting, you’re so—”

“Help me with these laces or I won’t go with you. I think the petticoat is caught beneath.” With Christian’s assistance, Nora pulled the garment up until it covered more of her breasts. “Where did you get these clothes?”

“Marry, sweeting, I’ve forgotten, it’s been so long, but it’s clear that the lady who owned it before was boy-flat in the chest and wide as a galley at the hips. Are you sure you don’t need more help?” He trailed his fingers down the cleft between her breasts, and she slapped them.

“You’re the only nobleman I know who keeps chests full of clothes that belong to wool merchants and peddlers.”

“We’re going to be late.”

He hurried her out of the manor, warning her to keep her cloak pulled over her gown. They set out with Inigo, Hext, and a dozen men, riding into the mist that still clung to the fields and forests that surrounded Falaise. They rode most of the day along little-used trails, with only short breaks for rest and food. The sky never cleared, and they traveled beneath a screen of unbroken gray.

As afternoon wore on, the mist thickened and the air chilled. Nora was riding beside Christian when he turned his mount and dropped back to speak to Hext. He returned quickly, and she noticed their escort left the track they were following and plunged into the trees. As they vanished, she turned an inquiring look on Christian.

“We’ll go on alone from here,” he said. “Hext will make camp for us.”

“But what about thieves and Jack Midnight?” she asked.

“No thief travels these woods.”

“Why?”

He stared into the thickening haze and smiled slightly. “These are special woods.”

“You’re being deliberately mysterious.”

“Mayhap you’re weary. We’ll rest in a little while.”

He guided them down into the woods. As they rode on, the mist thickened into a white sea of moisture, yet to Nora it seemed that Christian never faltered nor confused his way. No birds sang, and all the animals of the world seemed to sleep, for she could hear little but the thud of their horses’ hooves on the padded forest floor, the clink of snaffles, and the creak of saddle leather.

When Nora’s bottom was numb and her leg cramped from hugging the sidesaddle, Christian at last called a halt. After tethering the horses behind a screen of bushes, he gathered a blanket and a leather water bottle. He led Nora to a pile of blackened wood, the remains of a tree that had been struck by lightning. Behind it he spread the blanket and helped Nora sit. Groaning, she stretched her legs out in front of her while Christian dropped to her side.

“Now will you tell me where we’re going?” she asked.

“No.”

Fidgeting with the tassels on her cloak, she cleared her throat and tried to keep her voice from quavering. “You’re—you’re not angry with me?”

“Of course not.”

She wet her lips and tried again. “Christian, you haven’t decided to—to put me away?”

Shooting upright, he gaped at her, eyes wide. “By God’s toes, you’re afraid.”

Letting out a sigh, she shook her head. “Not anymore. Not when you look so astonished. It’s just that I hardly know you.”

“It will take time for you to learn to trust me completely.” He rested on his haunches and gave her a gentle kiss. “I understand, though it hurts to know that you fear me still. Don’t be afraid.”

He kissed her again, and her agitation vanished.

“I’m so glad you’re not going to put me away,” she said as he rubbed his cheek against hers. He murmured something she couldn’t understand. “Because I would have to escape and fight you, for Arthur’s sake.”

Christian kissed her neck, then looked into her eyes. “I don’t want to fight.”

His stillness and the way he fixed his gaze on her finally snared Nora’s attention.

“We’re in the middle of a forest,” she said, and put both hands on his chest.

He grasped her wrists, pulling her hands away as he bore her down beneath him. “I know.”

“There’s a mist.”

“I know.”

She wiggled as he grasped her ankle and slid his hand up her leg. “There could be bears and wolves.”

“Not in this forest.”

He pressed his palm against her inner thigh to spread her legs farther apart. When he slid between them, Nora tried to get up, but he pushed her back by the force of his lips on hers. She protested between kisses.

“We can’t. Anyone might come along.”

“Trust me. No one will come along.”

She felt his fingertips teasing a path from her neck to her breasts. “Is this the surprise?”

“No. Now be quiet.”

“But Christian—”

“Marry, woman, I shall have to make you be quiet.”

Unfastening her cloak, he kissed her, and with his tongue in her mouth she couldn’t voice her objections. She tried to capture his hands, but he was too quick. Before she could stop him, he pulled the neck of her gown down to expose her breasts and stroked a nipple with the backs of his fingers. Tendrils of pleasure crept through her body, and she arched her back, forgetting bears and wolves.

They made love fiercely until at last they subsided together, weak and damp with sweat and mist. Christian sank down to her breast, and Nora could feel his sex buried within her, still swollen and alive with readiness. She lay in a daze and squeezed the taut mounds of his buttocks while he panted in her ear. After a moment he lifted his head and looked at her. She was shocked to find his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing. Everything is so right that I fear I’ll lose it all, lose you somehow.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Now do you see why I didn’t want to need you, to love you? I’m afraid. It was like this when Father found me again. I was so afraid of loving someone, of being happy. If you love, you risk being hurt, and now I love you so cursed much, I think I would die if I lost you.”

She hugged him to her, wrapping her legs around his and squeezing as hard as she could. “The only way you will lose me is if you stop loving me.”

“You could die.”

“Yes, but I would wait for you.”

Lifting his head, he frowned at her. “Wait for me?”

“In Heaven,” she said. “If I should die, I would wait for you in Heaven so that we can be together forever.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Of course, you must promise to do the same, and no tupping any pretty angels while you’re about it.”

He started, then gave a bark of laughter. Holding her tight, he rolled, then withdrew from her and pulled her onto his lap. He chuckled and hugged her.

“You’re a miracle. You have the wits of a scholar, the body of a—nay, I won’t say it for fear of rousing the little dragon.”

She kissed the top of his nose. “Can it be that the fearsome monster is cultivating discretion in his dealings with me?”

“It’s not my fault that my schooling in the ways of the flesh took place in the stews.” Christian straightened his clothing and helped Nora tie her laces before pulling her to her feet. “The time draws near, love. We should go if we’re to make it back to Hext and the others before dark.”

They mounted again, and Christian led the way through trees and mist until they reached a stream. As they rode along the stream, the landscape became more rocky, and the stream twisted and snaked through the uneven country. After less than a half hour’s walk, Christian stopped. Nora pulled up beside him and saw that he was listening. She looked in the direction of his gaze and beheld an outcrop of rocks and fallen boulders behind which the stream disappeared.

In spite of the intensity of Christian’s attention, Nora heard nothing unusual to merit the tension that gripped his body. His head craned forward, and she could see his thighs knot as he lifted his body in the saddle. Then she heard it. Faint it was at first, the voice of a woman pitched counter to those of several men. Low for a woman, the voice reminded her of someone she couldn’t quite place.

Before she could pursue the memory, Christian dismounted and lifted her to the ground. He tied their horses and rounded on her, his jaw set and his eyes bright like jewels cast into fire. He looked at her without speaking, as if judging her worth, then smiled slightly and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. He reached behind her and drew forth her hood too.

“Whatever happens,” he said, “don’t uncover. You must promise.”

“You’re frightening me again.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

“Then come.”

He took her hand and walked beside her to the rock outcrop. Stopping there, he took her other hand and waited, shaking his head when she asked what he was doing. The voices grew louder, and she realized that the strangers were coming toward them. As the newcomers rounded the outcrop, Christian dropped to his knees before her, kissed the backs of her hands, and giving her a swooning look, began to speak.

Nora’s face burned, and she tried to pull her hands free as Christian recited to her before the approaching strangers, but her efforts were futile. He sighed and cooed at her, fawned and kissed her hands, until she thought he must have been struck by a wood faery’s spell.

The strangers drew near, and Nora at last yanked her hands free. Christian stood, and she turned to face the newcomers. Her heart dropped to her toes. Walking toward them was a young woman with long, red-gold hair and pale skin. A tall woman who walked with the purpose of a military man and the grace of a queen. She was gowned in a riding habit of black velvet shot with gold. The lady’s fingers were bedecked with rubies and emeralds, and a diamond perched in the crown of her hat.

Her gentlemen retainers, dressed almost as richly as their lady, had fanned out to the side and before the woman as soon as they heard Christian’s besotted voice. One of them shook his riding crop at Christian.

“What do you here on royal lands? On your knees before the Lady Elizabeth’s grace.”

“Oh!” Christian said. He dropped to his knees again and jerked Nora down beside him. “Oh, oh, oh, we meant no harm, my lord. We’re lost, my lord.”

Stunned, Nora watched her husband’s changeling performance while trying to take in what was happening. She hung her head and peeped around the edge of her hood to stare at Princess Elizabeth.

The Princess allowed her attendant to search Christian for weapons and belabor him with questions. Twitching her riding crop incessantly, she inspected Nora and Christian. Finally the lady appeared to lose patience with her zealous man.

“Enough, Alan. These are my good people. Good, honest folk who have lost their way. No doubt they are two lovers. I would speak with them a while, for it has been long since I’ve seen such happy faces about me. I will return to you anon.”

Nora watched in awe as the Princess’s words sent the five prepossessing noblemen away. They did not go out of sight, but far enough away that they couldn’t hear their lady’s conversation. When they’d gone, the princess drew near and held out her hand to Christian.

“Misrule, the tyrant has given way to the slave, I see.”

“Not so, Your Grace.”

Christian kissed Elizabeth’s hand, and Nora was sure she saw the woman pinch his cheek before offering her hand to Nora.

“This is the young woman Cecil told me about?”

“Yes, Your Grace. My wife, Nora.”

Nora took Elizabeth’s hand. It was warm, and as she touched her lips to it, Elizabeth squeezed her hand. Nora felt something drop into her palm, but she had the wits not to acknowledge it or open her fist. She stuffed her hand inside her cloak. Elizabeth smiled at her, allaying some of Nora’s apprehension.

“We hide, all of us, behind myriad disguisings,” Elizabeth said. “But not for much longer, I pray.”

“Fall draws nigh, Your Grace,” Christian whispered, “and the physicians say the Queen can’t last out the winter.”

“Which do you favor?” Elizabeth asked Nora, indicating her riding skirt. “The French or the Spanish fashion?”

Nora’s heart flip-flopped like a hooked fish. Elizabeth wasn’t the kind of woman to ask frivolous questions.

“Neither, Your Grace. I like plain English best, whether it be fashion, food, or family.”

Throwing back her head, Elizabeth laughed and slapped her crop against her thigh. “Yet you married this fanciful creature.”

“My lord is indeed something of a—a phoenix, but he’s an English phoenix.”

“And what of Spanish and French birds?” Elizabeth asked. “Don’t chew your lip, girl. Give me an honest answer.”

“French and Spanish birds make noises like peace doves and conceal hearts full of deceit and malice, my lady.”

Elizabeth glanced at Christian while Nora marveled at her own forwardness.

“Misrule, how haps it that you choose a wife so well when you spend most of your time cavorting with whipjacks and bawds?”

Christian bowed his head, then looked up at the Princess with a smile. “One who swims in mud oft appreciates a dip in clean water, Your Grace.”

“Be off with you, insolence. And for the next few months play the enamored bridegroom. Keep you both in the country and avoid London. The ship of England is scuttled, and its crew is swimming to the nearest land. Some are drowning, and I would like it not should my dearest friends follow such unfortunates down to the depths.”

“We will retire to Castle Montfort, Your Grace, and summon men to hold in readiness.” Christian bowed his head again, and Nora ducked her own head as well. Elizabeth turned to go, but paused to whisper to Nora.

“If I were free, I would do as you have done. But then, I do so love glory, and each of us much act according to God’s design. Farewell, Lady Misrule.”

Nora clung to her husband’s hand while they watched the Princess walk into the mist. When she could no longer see Elizabeth’s black and gold figure, Nora shook her head.

“Merciful Heaven.”

“I thought you would be pleased,” Christian said. “O merciful God.”

Christian laughed at her, but Nora kept shaking her head from side to side.

“Merciful heaven.”

“It’s time to go,” he said. “We must find Hext before nightfall.”

“Merciful God.” Nora was staring at her open hand.

“Nora, you’re babbling.”

“Look.”

Holding out her open hand, Nora gazed at the object Elizabeth had dropped in it. It was a ring set with a cameo of ancient Roman design depicting Venus and Cupid. On the back of the gold mount was engraved a Tudor rose.

Christian took the ring and slipped it on Nora’s finger. “She’s had to be brave for so long that when she hears of courage in others, she honors it.”

“Courage? Me?”

Raising his eyes to the sky, Christian sighed loudly and began guiding Nora back to their horses. Still dazed, Nora said nothing until he gripped her waist and lifted her into the saddle. The feel of his strong hands on her body jolted her out of her shock. She placed her hands over his and feasted on the contrast between his violet eyes and the dark flush of his lips. She hadn’t missed Elizabeth’s flirting manner and concealed sexual appraisal of Christian. They were but a taste of what would happen when they emerged from seclusion.

Suddenly the dangers and troubles of the kingdom and Elizabeth’s praise lost their primacy in her concern. Both could wait while she pondered the urgency of Christian’s allure to other women. Then she remembered Christian’s own professed weakness.

“Christian?”

Busy with Nora’s saddle, he grunted at her. She bent down and put her palm to his cheek, and he glanced up at her. Her tongue darted out to trace her upper lip, back and forth, and his hands stilled on the girth straps. His lips parted as if he would speak, but he appeared to lose track of his thoughts as he stared at her lips. Her fingers skittered along his throat, delved beneath shirt and doublet, then retreated to play with his dark, soft hair. His lashes lifted, and she was drawn into the wildfire she’d aroused.

Christian grasped her hand and pulled it from his hair. “Careful, love, or you’ll get what you’re asking for.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want.”

“Beshrew me, I think she means it.”

He reached for her, but she knocked his hands away.

“Stay you, lecherous fiend. I’ve a yen to see you undress in a tent by candlelight.”

Christian closed his eyes and moaned. “God has seen fit to punish me by enslaving me to a woman of cruelty and appetite.” He ran to his horse, jumped on the poor beast, and kicked him into a trot. As he passed Nora, he pulled on her mare’s bridle, urging her into motion. “Hurry, love. Hext has had plenty of time to put up our tent.”

“I just had a thought,” she said.

He pulled his horse near hers and urged the animal’s shoulder into Nora’s mare. Nora relented, kicked her mount, and they were off.

“What thought?” Christian asked.

“It occurred to me that I was indeed courageous, for it takes a woman of rare bravery to rule the Lord of Misrule.”

“We’ll see who does the ruling, woman.”

She laughed, but cried out when Christian leaned over and plucked her from her horse. He set her in front of him and took her mouth in a long kiss.

“Mayhap we should share the ruling,” she said when he released her.

“Mayhap.” His gaze fastened on her lips. “And I will enjoy meeting your challenge.”

Nora discovered that she wasn’t afraid of his threat, so she smiled up at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “And I find that I will enjoy the battle as long as you are the prize, my lord.”