Chapter 7
Martin guided Winnie up the stairs of the battlements later that evening with his hand at the small of her back. He’d seen her looking at him several times during the meal. Then again, he had been looking at her as well. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else but kissing her sweet lips. Something about this girl excited him in ways that no commoner had ever done to him before.
An exuberance for life twinkled in her bright green eyes. Her bold and daring nature told him she enjoyed a challenge. He liked that. She also knew a lot about the forge as well as Damascus steel. That impressed him. It meant she was not only pretty but also smart. He couldn’t keep his mind from wandering. Was she a hellcat in bed? He hoped so, as he hadn’t made love to a worthy woman in a long time now.
“Your castle is very nice,” she told him as he’d finished showing her not only the inside rooms but the garrison, the orchard, the mews, the kennels and the guardhouse as well.
“I am glad you like it,” he said, seeing his falcon, Andromeda, flying through dusk skies. When they got to the wall walk, he lifted his arm, and the bird landed atop it.
“Oh!” She ducked and held her hands up to her head, startled by the fluttering of the bird’s wings.
Martin chuckled. “You’ll get used to it, the longer you are here.”
“I like animals,” she said. “This bird is beautiful.” She daringly reached out to touch it although he’d warned her earlier not to do it. His hand clamped around her wrist.
“Andromeda is easily startled and doesn’t like anyone but me touching her.”
“Please,” she said. “I would like to pet the bird.”
“Then you’ll do it with me holding your hand.” He turned and talked to the bird. “Andromeda, this is Winnie. She would like to say hello.” With a slow, stroking movement, he glided her fingers over the bird’s feathers of its wing, far from its beak. To his astonishment, the bird let her do it. “I’m surprised Andromeda isn’t objecting,” he told her.
“It’s probably because she knows I am used to falcons as well as hawks. After all, I had my own hawk back in Hetherpool.”
“You did?” He let go of her hand and let her pet the bird on her own. “How does a commoner afford the care of a hawk let alone be allowed to own one? That is the bird of a noble.”
Winter pulled her hand back, biting her tongue. Once again, she’d slipped up and said something that might reveal her true identity. She had to be more careful.
“I liked to spend time in the castle mews when I wasn’t in the smithy.” She wasn’t lying, even if it was a vague representation of the truth.
“Oh, so you caught the eye of the lord, and he treated you in a special manner.”
“I suppose you could say that.” She turned and walked down the battlements, looking at the breathtaking view, and he followed. Scotland was just over the border. The rolling hills and grounds were covered in darkness, but she would have to take a walk up here to see its splendor in the daytime.
“You seem to like looking at the Scottish hills.”
“I do. It’s almost winter now, but in the spring the fields of heather are some of the most spectacular colors you will ever see.”
“I’m surprised you have even seen the hills of Scotland. After all, a blacksmith usually lives and dies in the same town.”
Even though Winter was very young when they left Scotland, one thing she remembered was the beautiful fields of heather. “I have had the opportunity to see many places in my lifetime.”
“There is one place I know you have never seen, and I plan to show it to you tonight.” His falcon flew away when he reached out to push a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His touch excited her. “We’ll go to my solar now.”
The wind whipped through her hair, but she didn’t feel the cold, even without a cloak. The heat emanating from Lord de Grey’s body warmed her to her very core. She reached back and tightened the ribbon around her long hair. This was the moment she had been waiting for, but it frightened her at the same time.
“It’s getting late,” she said. “Perhaps I should -”
Her sentence was cut off by his lips pressing up against hers. His kiss was surprisingly gentle. She had thought it would be forceful and filled with power – and lust. Instead, he treated her tenderly, pulling back and running his fingertips along her jawbone.
“It is time,” he told her, holding out his arm to escort her to his chamber.
Her head told her not to go with him, but her heart was crying out for more. She’d just had her first kiss, and it was wonderful. Always being curious and adventurous, she didn’t want it to stop here. Most girls her age were already married and had children. Winter felt she had missed out on so much and only wanted to experience intimacy with a man.
Laying her hand on his arm, she walked silently with him from the battlements, feeling like a lady being escorted. He treated her well, even though he thought she was naught but a commoner. Martin nodded to his guards along the way. When they crossed the courtyard, she saw servants and alewives watching them from the shadows. Some of the younger female servants smiled and looked downward shyly, probably wishing it was them that Lord de Grey was escorting to his bedchamber.
Inside the keep, he stopped in front of his chamber door. He reached around her, opening the door and letting her enter the room first. It was another act that made her feel special. Servants and commoners always followed behind a noble and would never enter a room first.
Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the inside of his chamber. It was a much grander room than she’d expected. His castle, in general, was not as big as any of her brothers’ castles, but his solar was spacious and decorated with many very expensive objects.
She walked through the room, running her hands along the furniture, drinking in the splendor of this elaborately decorated chamber lit by the soft glow of burning beeswax candles. Tall, stained glass windows lined the room in colors of vibrant red, blue, green and yellow. Scenes on the windows depicted knights at a tournament with the king watching from atop a tall, wooden structure as he lifted his hand in the air.
The walls were lined, completely filled with hanging tapestries that showed religious scenes of a pilgrimage to torture chambers and even a noble wedding. It was a very grand show.
“Where did you acquire all these fine things?” she asked, making her way to a wall of wooden shelves. A leather-covered wooden coffret, or small chest, caught her attention. Her fingers glided over the metal lock that was cleverly shaped like a heart.
“That is a coffret that depicts courtly love,” he told her. “I picked it up while in France.”
“You were in France?” she asked.
“Campaigning for King Edward.” He removed his weapon belt as he spoke, hanging it on a brass hook that was shaped like the long neck of a goose sticking out of the wall.
“Oh. You pillaged it,” she said, understanding what he meant.
“Aye, some of my treasures are the spoils of war,” he told her. “However, I have strong trade agreements with many countries as well. That coffret was not stolen. I paid for it.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, never having seen anything like it.
He walked over and picked up the coffret, showing it to her. “It depicts courtly love. See how the lover is offering his lady his heart? She, in return, is giving him her girdle as a token of affection.”
Winter surveyed the man on the box handing the lady the huge heart that was the metal lock with a heart-shaped hole in the middle for the key. The woman, in return, reached out and handed him her girdle, or belt, from around her waist. It was odd how something like this interested such a hardened warlord. Could there be a side to him that wasn’t so rough? One that was possibly hidden? After all, when he’d kissed her on the battlements, his action was not what she expected from him at all.
“What is the box made from?” she asked in interest. Winter had always been curious, ever since childhood. She also loved to learn.
“It’s a fine piece,” he told her. “Workmanship like this is hard to find. The wood is walnut and the fittings are made from copper alloy and iron.” He used his finger to point out the details. “The gilding on the embossed leather was done by French monks.”
“Monks?” she asked in amusement since on the outside of the box were two half-naked lovers. They reached for each other, their fingertips touching just under the heart-shaped lock.
“Look inside,” he told her, nodding, urging her to open the box.
“Is it locked?” she asked.
“Nay. The key is inside, but I’ve never used it.”
She reached out cautiously, lifting the lid, feeling like Pandora. Inside the cover was the Virgin Mary holding the baby Jesus. “Oh, I see what you mean.”
“The outside depicts courtly love, while inside we see the virgin and her baby.”
“What are these?” she asked. The box was full of jewelry and treasures of all kinds. She plucked a ring out from the pile and held it up to inspect it.
“That is a pie-dish sapphire ring,” he told her.
“A what?” She giggled since it sounded so funny.
“The setting that holds the prized and unique stone resembles a dish used in making pies. That, once belonged to a very wealthy Spanish marquis. Here is another nice one,” he said, picking up a golden brooch with embedded gemstones. “It is made of gold, and the gemstones are ruby and emerald. It was once worn by the mistress of King Edward.”
“That was Gabrielle’s?” she blurted out.
He looked at her oddly. “You seem quite familiar with one of the king’s mistresses, yet she wasn’t the one I meant.”
“You have so many treasures here,” she said, digging through the trinkets, each one being better than the last.
“They bore me,” he said with a sigh.
“They do?”
“I suppose to a commoner like you, this is like booty to a pirate.”
“Here’s the key to the heart lock,” she said excitedly, holding up a golden key. The top of it was shaped like a heart, and the part that fit into the lock was heart-shaped as well. It was exquisite. She’d never seen anything like it.
“Do you like that?” he asked.
“I do,” she said, thinking about the tale depicted on the box. “It is so romantic. It represents love, and love is stronger than any blade ever made in the forge.”
“I don’t know about that,” he said with a chuckle. “However, since you like the key - it’s yours.” He slammed the lid and put the box back on the shelf.
“You’re – giving this to me?” Winter felt as if he’d just offered her treasure.
“If you like it, take it,” he said, heading across the room. “It doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t need it.”
She fondled the key, following him over to the hearth. He picked up an iron poker and jabbed at the fire burning, making the room glow.
“If those treasures don’t interest you, then what does?” she asked, wanting to know more about him.
His head turned as he continued to poke at the fire. “You interest me.”
Her heart about stopped beating to hear him say those words. Did he really mean it? “You’ve just met me,” she said, studying the key only so she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. If she did, she’d be surrendering to him in a matter of minutes. He interested her, too. More so than any man she’d ever known.
“I may have just met you, but there’s something about you that is . . . different from most common wenches.”
She didn’t want him to start asking questions because if he did, she was going to have to tell him who she really was. After all, she’d promised Nairnie. “It’s probably because you’ve never known a lady blacksmith before.”
“Nay, I haven’t, my lady.”
Her eyes shot up to his face. He called her, my lady. Did he know who she was? He started laughing.
“I think I’ll give you the title of Lady Blacksmith. That seems to fit you well. Would you like to be a lady for a night? You can pretend you are a lady when you’re in my chamber. I would like that, and it might excite you as well.”
Nay, he didn’t know her identity. He was cocky, and she didn’t like it in the least.
“If I were pretending to be a lady, being alone with you in your bedchamber is the last place I’d be. Or do you usually bring noblewomen to your private chamber?”
That must have taken him by surprise that she spoke so freely. He abruptly stood up straight, in the process dropping the hot poker atop his booted foot. The poker fell to the floor with a loud clank, part of the handle breaking off in the process.
“Damn, that was a poker I got on a trade in the Holy Lands,” he said, reaching down to get it.
“Nay, don’t touch it!” She shot forward and blocked the poker with her body. “It’s hot and you’ll get burned.”
With her body so close to his, all she had to do was lean forward and she’d touch him.
“Thank you for your concern.” His hand cupped her chin and he tilted her head upward. “I suppose I’m not thinking clearly because all I have on my mind is you.”
Her fingers gripped the heart-shaped key. She didn’t want to let it go, and neither did she want to leave his chamber before she experienced another kiss from him.
“I – I liked the kiss,” she told him.
“There is much more where that came from.” He bent toward her and kissed her on the mouth. Winter’s eyes closed as their lips melded together, feeling as hot as the fires of the forge. Her knees became weak, and she found herself reaching out and putting her hands on his shoulders so she wouldn’t fall over.
“Winnie, I have never been drawn to a woman so quickly before. I am infatuated with you and I don’t understand it.”
“I feel the same way about you,” she told him, meaning every word of it.
Then he did something that surprised her. In one motion he swooped her off her feet, lifting her in his arms. The key fell from her hand into the rushes, but it was the last thing on her mind. With his lips locked on hers again, she felt her resolve diminishing very quickly.
He carried her across the room and climbed two steps to a small dais that hosted one of the largest beds she’d ever seen in her life. There was a railing around the dais made of wood and gilded in gold. It looked as if it belonged to a church and almost seemed as if it were paying reverence to whatever happened here. When he put her down on his bed, she drank in the elaborate sight.
The bed itself was covered with a plush, down-filled spread. A sizeable, ornate canopy sheltered the area with velvet, burgundy curtains enclosing it and also covering a headboard for the bed. It was something she’d never seen before. The walls in the little alcove were painted in bright colors and even gilded with gold leaf.
However, the walls around the bed area did not depict religious scenes or the tournaments of knights like the tapestries or stained glass windows. Nay. To her utter shock, the paintings were of naked men and women all laughing and drinking and dancing and . . . making love. One very well endowed woman leaned over with two men suckling at her bosom while another man humped her from behind, his long, engorged manhood depicted to be more like a branch of a tree than part of his body it was so long. Everywhere she looked, she saw lovers kissing, caressing . . . and coupling. Mayhap it should have made her feel disgusted or embarrassed but, instead, she found herself getting randy. A part of her came to life, wanting to know how the actual act would feel. In her head, she felt like part of this wild scene.
“I see you looking at my walls,” said Martin as he stood and quickly removed his surcoat and tunic. His naked chest was broad and sturdy. He had large muscles in his upper arms.
“I have never seen anything like it before,” she told him, not able to pull her eyes away from his half-naked body now.
He continued to talk as he removed his shoes and belt. “I once had a very talented visitor that came from the faraway land of sheiks. He told me he was a painter and had witnessed what went on in the sheik’s bedchamber. So, I hired him to paint on my walls what he’d seen. Of course, I never expected anything like this. But I like to be different.”
“I like to be different, too,” she said, her eyes scanning the walls again, settling on two lovers in a garden. A naked woman was on a swing made from vines, hanging from a tree. Below her was a naked man on the ground, with his face – right between her legs. “Oh, my!” she cried out aloud.
“We can try that position if you’d like. I’ve tried them all, and I assure you they are very satisfying to both partners.”
When she looked back again, he was naked. Her eyes roamed down his chest to the dark arrow of crisp curls that led to his groin area. She cried out, once more, when she saw his well-endowed manhood, straight as the man’s in the painting. What had she gotten herself into? She should leave right now, but a part of her wanted more than anything to stay.
Martin chuckled, liking the way the little wench’s jaw fell open when she looked at his hardened manhood. He was so randy he would have a hard time holding back so she could enjoy the act, too. Most lords didn’t care if their servants or mistresses in bed were satisfied. He, on the other hand, always wanted to please his women first. And this one – this one, he wanted to please all night long.
He leaned a knee on the bed and pushed her gown up to her waist.
“What are you doing?” she asked from a half-sitting, half-lying position. The smell of roses drifted from her body, driving him insane. She smelled like a noble lady, not like a commoner. He usually didn’t take noblewomen to his bed because, if he did, it would ruin the girl’s reputation and no nobleman would ever marry her. He’d only had one noblewoman in his life, and it was because the lady pushed herself on him. Of course, he was betrothed to her at the time.
He usually kept his romps in the bedchamber to lower-class women like Winnie. It was safer this way. They were also always more than willing to spend the night with him. He’d heard the servants on more than one occasion talking, wishing that they would be the next one he took to his bed.
“I would think you’d know it is easier to couple without all the layers of clothing between us,” he said to her. “Unless you’d rather do it with your clothes still on. I’ve tried it that way before, too.”
“Is there anything you haven’t tried?” she asked, sounding a bit haughty if he wasn’t mistaken.
“I haven’t tried this yet – with you.” He pushed her gown up over her head and threw it to the floor. Then he quickly removed her shift, running his hands up to caress her breasts, bringing her nipples quickly to peaks. When he looked at her, she had her head thrown back and her eyes closed.
In one motion, he’d removed her underclothes, hose, and shoes, leaving her stark naked. “God’s eyes, you are beautiful,” he said under his breath, gently running his hands over the curves of her hips, trailing his fingers through the dark curls of her womanly mound. He leaned over and kissed her. At the same time, he slipped his finger between her folds, feeling her wet heat, knowing she wanted this as much as he did right now.
Positioning his body between her legs, he leaned over, running his fingers up her smooth skin, delighting in watching her squirm.
“Do you like this?” he whispered in her ear, letting his tongue flick out to lick her.
“I – I do,” she said through heavy breathing. He felt her chest rising and falling beneath him.
“Look at the wall,” he told her, kissing her neck, letting his mouth trail to her breasts. When she turned her head to look at the painting, he suckled her like the men in the painting did to the woman.
She moaned and arched her back. Her head went backward, but she kept looking at the wall. He knew she was almost ready. He kissed her again, this time letting his tongue slip inside her mouth. Then he rapidly flicked his tongue in and out of her mouth, mimicking the motions of the man humping the woman in the painting.
Winter’s head spun and her body tingled in glorious titillation as she drank in the scene of the lovers on the wall. Her thoughts were so confused right now that she couldn’t think straight. Every time she was about to push him away, he did something else to excite her. The core of her being was like a hot flame of the forge and, right now, she didn’t want to do anything to extinguish it.
This man was handsome, exciting, and an excellent kisser. Not that she had anything to compare it to, but it was better than she could have ever imagined. When he suckled at her breasts, her eyes were on the wall, and she felt like she was part of this crazy, lust-filled world. For some reason, she enjoyed it.
He’d not only used his tongue to enter her body, but he’d also used his finger. Her head kept telling her this was wrong, but her heart said if she didn’t experience making love with this man tonight, she would regret it for the rest of her life.
She’d always wanted to make love with a man but was too afraid to try it. After all, a noblewoman was supposed to be a virgin on her wedding night. Her sisters had been virgins – except for her eldest sister, Spring. But Spring had been raised a warrior, so that was to be expected.
“You like pretending you are a part of this world, don’t you?” he asked, speaking about the paintings on the wall. Right after he said it, he started placing kisses down her torso. When his mouth reached her stomach, his tongue shot out and encircled her navel. She nearly jumped off the bed in surprise. It felt so sensuous that now she felt a tingling and pulsing between her thighs.
“I – I’m not supposed to do this,” she whispered, barely able to say the words, breathing very heavy.
“Are you afraid what your father might say?”
Her father. Ross Douglas. He would kill both of them if he ever found out. Ross was a Scot with a terrible temper. When he’d found out Autumn was pregnant at her wedding, he’d almost had Ravenscar’s head. That is, until Autumn pointed out that it was their second wedding – one that her family could attend, after they’d already been married for weeks.
“My f-father will kill you,” she said.
“I’ll talk to him, don’t worry,” said Martin, pressing the heat of his body up against hers. “He doesn’t seem like the type of man who has a temper.”
“My brothers do,” she said, throwing back her head as his hands spread her legs and he positioned his face at the door to her womanhood. Her eyes focused now on the lover in the garden on the swing.
“I didn’t know you had more brothers. I thought Josef was the only one, and he’s in no position to object to anything I do.”
“I have three,” she said as he lifted her hips and buried his face between her thighs. Her eyes shot open in surprise when his tongue flicked out, tracing her nether region. She moaned and gripped the pillows as her body vibrated and her senses reeled. She felt herself climbing higher and higher, and her entire body cried out for release. She was about to climax when she remembered what Nairnie said. If Martin so much as touched her, she was supposed to tell him she was a lady.
Her senses had taken such a turn that she’d almost forgotten. “I – I’m a lady,” she cried out, so close to reaching that precipice that she felt as if she would shatter.
“Of course, you are. You’re my Lady Blacksmith. And a lady should find her pleasure, so I’m going to make sure you find yours.”
“Nay. I – I really am.” She looked at him as he positioned his engorged manhood between her legs.
“Look at the wall, Lady Blacksmith,” he said with a chuckle. Her head turned and she, once again, surveyed the lovers. There was nothing she could do to stop him because he thought she was saying she was a lady, just playing a game. Mayhap she could have told him again, but as soon as his tip entered her, she was so stimulated and excited that she let herself go. “Scream out, Lady Blacksmith. Let me hear your pleasure.”
Winter screamed out, moaning in passion, feeling Martin break her wall of innocence. Liquid love flowed between them as he held her hips and thrust his engorged manhood into her. She had thought it would hurt, but it didn’t. Mayhap it was because he had taken the measures to prepare her adequately for the act.
Like the lovers on the wall, she let her cares go, enjoying every minute of making love with Lord de Grey. He was talented in more ways than one. Even when he was in the midst of the act, he’d brought her to completion yet another time before he thought to be sated. The room became very hot, and her body became so alive that she realized she had been missing out on something she never wanted to be without again.
When Martin sowed his seed within her, it only managed to excite her more. He collapsed on the bed next to her, but she wasn’t ready to stop. She rolled atop him, trying to continue. But when her hand touched him below the waist, she realized it was too late. He was finished.
“I knew you’d be a wildcat in bed,” he told her, trying hard to regain his breath. “But I can’t do it any longer. Not now,” he told her, smoothing down her hair with his hand and gently caressing her cheek.
Tears started to fall from her eyes when she realized just what she had done. Her curiosity had gotten the best of her. Although it was the best feeling in the world, she was no longer a virgin. Suddenly, fear filled her being.
What would her father say if he found out? And, God willing, her brothers would never hear about this or they would kill Martin on the spot. Both of those thoughts terrified her, but not nearly as much as what she was going to have to tell Nairnie when she got back to her room. Hadn’t Nairnie warned her to stay away from Martin? She should never have come to his bedchamber tonight. What had she been thinking?
Mayhap, she could have stopped herself from acting like a strumpet if he hadn’t told her to look at the damned wall. She brushed away a tear and scooted off the bed, hurriedly pulling her clothes into place.
“You’re crying?” asked Martin, pushing up on his elbow. “Winnie, just wait a few minutes. I’m sure I’ll be able to do it again, I just need time to catch my breath.”
“That’s not why I’m crying,” she told him, feeling angry now. She wasn’t sure if she was angrier with him for seducing her or with herself for not being honest with him from the start.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Didn’t you like it?”
“Yes, I liked it,” she shouted, wanting to kill him for bringing her here in the first place. “I liked it too much, and that is the problem.” She pulled up her hose and sat on the bed to don her shoes.
“You make no sense. Where are you going?”
“I have to leave.”
“All right. We’ll do it again tomorrow night if you’d like.”
“Nay!” She jumped up with her hands on her hips. “We won’t do it tomorrow and not the day after that. We will never make love again, and you will never tell anyone about this.”
He gave her a look as if she were addled, pushing up to a sitting position. When he did, his hand came down on a spot of blood on the sheets. He looked at his hand and then over to her. “Oh, Winnie, I had no idea.” His words held sympathy and he sounded as if he were truly sorry. “You were a virgin. I didn’t know. Why didn’t you say something?”
“That is the least of my problems,” she said, turning and running from the room.
Martin jumped to his feet, meaning to go after Winnie, but she’d already left the room and slammed the door. His foot kicked something in the rushes. He looked down to see the heart-shaped key he’d given her at his feet.
“She’s not angry about losing her virginity,” he said, understanding it now. “Nay. She’s in love with me!”
He blew a puff of air from his mouth and sank back on the bed, wondering what to do. He’d taken the girl’s virginity, and now she’d fallen in love with him. He never meant for that to happen. He’d only been looking for a wild romp in the bedchamber, but he’d gotten more than he’d bargained for now. He looked back to the heart-shaped key still lying in the rushes and thought about what Winnie had said. Love was stronger than any blade ever forged.
Damn, why did he feel so horrible for this whole situation? And why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? It was more than raw lust like he had with other wenches. Something about this girl was special. He felt a pain in his heart and didn’t understand it at all. God, he hoped he wasn’t starting to have real feelings for her. She was only a commoner! The last thing he wanted was to fall in love with a girl he could never make his wife.