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King's Errand Page 11
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“With luck, I should be back before the leaves have fallen from the trees,” Vadim said, unwittingly reading her thoughts. He was always doing that these days. So annoying. Was she that predictable?
“Autumn, eh? As quickly as that?” But for once her snark went unnoticed, for Vadim’s mind was already fixed on the road ahead.
“If the current spell of fine weather holds,” he continued “—and there’s no reason to believe it won’t—there should be no delay in our passage over the Great Sea. Once we reach the mainland, the remainder of the journey ought to be simple enough. We should reach Rodmar’s stronghold within only a few weeks.”
Weeks! Oh sure, the way he said weeks it didn’t sound all that long, but even with the best luck in the world he’d still be gone for ages.
“Why does it have to be you, though? Can’t someone else go instead?” Martha looked up at him, well aware that she was pouting and whining like a spoiled brat, but she couldn’t help it. If it made him stay she’d use every weapon she had.
“Martha, love. I’ve told you this before. As noblemen with lands and property, we each have a duty to rally to our king’s banner whenever he summons us. A few weeks of our time is not unreasonable, love, not when Rodmar has given us so much.” Vadim swept back her hair and pressed his lips to Martha’s brow, before kissing little Maudie’s pink-flushed cheek. “If Anselm, Hugh and the others ever hope to be pardoned, to have their honor fully restored, then this is their final chance. The king will give them no other opportunity to prove their loyalty. Or do you want to see our friends suffer the indignity of another trial, or imprisonment? Or worse?”
“Oh, stop! How can you say such a thing?” Pulling away from him, Martha leaped to her feet, so abruptly that their daughter gave a squeak of surprise. “Of course I don’t want that.” The men he spoke of had once been strangers, but now they all meant something to her. Along with their wives and children, they’d somehow become a large extended family, mutually dependent upon one another.
“I’m glad you understand, love.” Getting up from the bed, Vadim took Martha’s shoulders and gently turned her to face him, his gaze oh-so-tender. “But before I go, I would have you know this, wife. Whatever pain my absence may cause you, my own suffering will be tenfold greater.” He nuzzled her neck, kissing a slow, burning trail up to her ear. “For in departing, not only do I leave you behind, my love… my heart’s ease… but… ”
Martha closed her eyes as a series of delicious shivers rippled up her spine, turning her legs to jelly. Oh, god, his kisses were too distracting. She arched her neck backward, encouraging him to continue his exploration.
“… I leave behind everything… that matters in life. Everything I hold dear is right here… within this castle. Not least, you and our two beloved children.” Cupping Martha’s face between his hands, he said, “Speak not to me of the pain of separation when I have already imagined some of the endless days that will keep me from your side. Nothing you can say could make me feel any worse.”
Martha stilled, suddenly chastened by his words. Was that what she wanted, to make him feel bad for leaving her?
Like it or not, whatever she said or did, Vadim would be leaving Edgeway in the morning. As he so rightly said, there was no other way. Not unless they wished to forfeit the lives of people who had come to mean so much to them.
She didn’t want Vadim worrying over her instead of concentrating on the job he had to do—whatever it was, for Rodmar had been rather evasive whenever Vadim had broached the subject. No. If she truly loved her man—and she did—then it was up to her to lighten the load of separation that Vadim would have to bear over the coming months.
“Then what do you say,” she said with a sultry smile, “that we ditch the rug-rats and send them off somewhere with their Aunt Lulu? Maybe we could find some other way to spend our final day together.” Standing on her tiptoes, Martha kissed her way along his stubbled jaw until she reached the soft fullness of his lower lip. “Something… ” Taking it between her teeth, she murmured “more… stimulating.”
Vadim chuckled. Hooking his arm about her waist, he pulled Martha even closer, almost squishing poor baby Maudie in the process. Laughter grumbled in his chest. “Wicked wench. You cannot beguile me so easily. I know you too well, woman. Long have your siren-like ways been my companion. If you had your way, I wouldn’t be able to sit in my saddle on the morrow, let alone embark on the long ride south.”
“So?” Martha smiled up at him, her stomach fluttering with his nearness. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, m’lord.”
Vadim rolled his eyes. “Oh, there she goes. M’lording me so prettily, exactly like the obedient wife she never was.” Cupping her face with his hand, he caressed her cheek, the rough pad of his thumb grazing her skin. “Say it again,” he growled, desire glittering within his eyes. “If you dare.”
The hungry expression in those demon-black eyes made Martha’s heart stutter, but she was more than up to the challenge.
“Of course, m’lord.” She cast her gaze downward in a parody of maidenly modesty. “How could I refuse the bidding of my most esteemed husband? Indeed,” she glanced up at him, darting him a lust-filled glance, “how could any woman, refuse you anything, m’lord? Not I. Good wife that I always strive to be.”
“Anything?” he growled, his stare fixed on her mouth.
Quite deliberately, Martha moistened her lower lip with her tongue. “Oh, yes, m’lord,” she purred, the fingers of her free hand toying with the tie of his shirt. “Absolutely anything. All you have to do is ask.”
She loved it when they played their private game of Lord and Lady Edgeway—although this would be the last opportunity they’d have for the foreseeable future.
“Forgive me, daughter,” Vadim said, taking baby Maudie from Martha’s arms. “But your mother and I have some rather urgent business to attend to.”
“Business?” Martha snorted. “Is that what we’re calling it, now? Talk about romantic… not!”
Vadim kissed her soundly for her sauce—as he liked to call it. Cupping the back of her head, he gave her a kiss that made her blood boil and her nether regions buzz.
After all this time, how did he do that? How did he always manage to make each time feel just as good as their first? Better, in fact.
Abruptly pulling away, Vadim marched for the door, their daughter expertly cradled upon the crook of his powerful arm. “Agath— Ah! Harold. You’ll do nicely. Be so good as to take this young lady to Aunt Lulu, would you? She’s out in the kitchen garden with her grandson, I believe.”
“Certainly, m’lord. With pleasure. Come here, little lady. Ouch! Not the beard.”
Martha smiled at Maudie’s delighted giggle. The little girl had a thing for beards at the moment, so of course she adored poor Harold, what with his thick pelt of black facial fuzz.
“Thank you, Harold. Now I may return to organizing my… provisions.”
From her hiding place behind the bedroom door, Martha gave another unladylike snort of laughter.
“Provisions!” she said with a laugh when Vadim returned to their bedchamber. “That’s the best you could do?”
With terrifying speed, he seized her. Spinning her about, he pressed her back against the closed door, imprisoning her there with his large male body.
“Yes,” Vadim murmured against her lips. “Provisions. Most vital… for the journey… ahead.” He punctuated his words with tiny, teasing kisses all over her face. “One should never neglect… the preparation of such… essential… items.”
“Hmm? Wh-what?” Martha groaned as Vadim cupped her buttocks and pulled her toward him until she could feel the urgency of need for her.
“What’s this? Have you no saucy comment to add, wife?” he asked with the wickedest of smiles, his warm breath brushing her lips. “How unusual.”
Martha could never think
straight when he was holding her this intimately, but on a primal level she knew exactly how to act. Tangling her hands into Vadim’s sleek black hair, she pulled his head down, her lips meeting his with all the wild longing of her soul. He kissed her back with the same desperate hunger, their tongues sliding together in a deeply passionate embrace.
She groaned as his hands moved beneath her skirts, cupping and squeezing her naked flesh.
“Martha,” he breathed within her mouth.
“God, yes!” She almost wept with relief as his fingers sought the slick heat of her body. She sighed as he touched her most sensitive parts.
“I cannot wait. I need you too much.”
Slowly she stroked him, tracing the outline of blatant truth of his words beneath his tight trews. Yes, he needed her. Almost as much as she needed him.
How the hell would she manage without him for so many months?
When they eventually left the sanctuary of their bedchamber, the shadows were much longer. Despite Vadim’s thorough attentions, Martha’s breasts were now swollen and aching, for the time of the babies next feed had come and gone.
With her hand in its place on the crook of his arm they wandered downstairs to the great hall where they discovered Lulu and Agatha doing their best to distract the squalling babes.
Martha hurried over to grab their son who was making the most tremendous din, especially now that he’d caught scent of his supper. “Sorry… I’m so sorry. Here, give him to me, Ags. Thanks.”
Settling herself onto the nearest bench, Martha quickly loosened her gown and, without further ado, she produced her breast for their furious son.
“Thank the spirits for that!” Agatha cried with feeling as the cacophony of sobs instantly halved. “I swear my poor ears are bleeding.” Vadim was fool enough to smile, and Agatha rounded on him with her most disapproving scowl. “Remove that smirk from your face, m’lord. After our lengthy suffering, ’tis the very least you could do.”
“Oh, it hasn’t been as bad as that, has it, my wee lass?” Lulu cooed, kissing Maudie’s rosy cheeks one final time before handing her to Martha. “We’ve had such a lovely afternoon together, looking at all the pretty flowers in the garden, haven’t we, my sweetheart? Yes we have!”
“Hah!” Agatha answered rudely. Grabbing a tankard of ale from the table, she took several thirsty swallows while Vadim helped Martha wrangle their thrashing daughter into her feeding position. Seconds later, a sweet, heavy silence descended upon the hall.
From his corner of the hall, even the minstrel gave an audible sigh of relief. Picking up his lute, the man began stroking a soothing tune from the instrument. Sinking onto the bench beside his wife, Vadim tried to commit every detail of this precious moment to memory, molding it into a recollection strong enough to sustain him during the lonely weeks ahead.
Nothing was beneath his notice.
As Martha leaned forward on the bench, her hair acted as a silken curtain, affording her a measure of privacy as she fed their children. Vadim loved how the candlelight reflected on the tousled waves of her hair, a glorious riot of chestnut and gold that tumbled about her shoulders in a fiery swathe.
Eyes closed, the babies’ tiny eyelashes fluttered upon the swell of their cheeks, impossibly tiny blue veins showing through their translucent skin of their eyelids. Their little throats moved rhythmically as they gorged on their mother’s milk, the flailing of their arms lessening as their bellies filled. As they relaxed, their fists unfurled like flower buds, and instead of beating upon their mother’s breast, now they stroked her flesh with their fingers.
Such tiny fingers. A miniature miracle right down to each pearl-like fingernail. How could anything so small be this heart-achingly perfect?
Martha must have sensed Vadim staring for she suddenly looked up, meeting his eyes with a smile, a smile so lovely that it momentarily robbed him of the ability to breathe. Erde! She’d always been lovely, but motherhood had transformed her looks into something transcending mere beauty. With her flushed cheeks and those dazzling blue eyes, Martha had an almost ethereal quality about her. She looked like an angel. An angel who professed to love him as much as he loved her,
Damn. The quest had not begun and already he missed her.
“There’s one good thing, I suppose,” Agatha said, bringing them crashing back down into the present, quite ruining the intimacy of the moment.
“And what might that be?” Vadim asked, reluctantly dragging his gaze away from Martha.
“All that constant crying and caterwauling helped rid me of Edric’s company.” Agatha chuckled, seeming quite happy about this. “I’ve never seen the man move so fast.”
“You’re much too hard on him, Agatha,” Lulu declared. “I think Edric’s a very dear, sweet man. You’d have to go a long way to find anyone more willing to please. That’s a very rare quality in any man… present company excepted, of course.”
Vadim stifled a smile. “Naturally.”
Agatha’s eyes narrowed suddenly. “What do you mean, willing?”
Now a lesser woman might have backed down in the face of such obvious hostility, but not Lulu. “Oh, don’t play silly beggars with me, Agatha,” she said. “You know full well what I mean. Granted, while Edric might not have been blessed with the looks of some, he’s a decent enough sort of fella, so he is. Mark my words, some day he’ll make some lucky woman a darn fine husband.”
Agatha planted her tankard down on the table. Hard. “And who, pray tell, did you have in mind, eh?” she demanded, visibly bristling now.
Vadim exchanged an amused glance with Martha. Judging by the slightly knowing expression on Lulu’s face, she’d already given the subject some consideration.
“Why, no one in particular, dear,” Lulu answered airily, brushing non-existent creases from the skirt of her dark green gown. “I was speaking generally, of course. Oh! Wait… . surely you didn’t think I meant you?” She burst into laughter. “As if I’d be that daft when I know full well how much Edric irritates you. Heaven forbid! The two of you simply wouldn’t suit at all.” But no sooner had Agatha’s ruffled feathers begun to settle, Lulu added. “So I, er, take it you have no objection if some other lady took a crack at bagging him, hmm?”
“I suppose you mean you?” Agatha growled, the icy glint back in her eyes.
“Oh, shit!” Martha muttered. Quickly bowing her head, she fixed her gaze on the babies, but Vadim was too diverted to look away. Lulu and Edric, indeed. The very thought was laughable. Martha’s aunt had no more interest in Edric than Edric had in her. Surely Agatha knew that?
Apparently not.
Then again, when was jealousy ever rational?
Lulu caught Vadim’s eye and grinned. Oh, the wicked woman. Suddenly Vadim knew precisely what she hoped to achieve. If Agatha’s current expression was any indication, Lulu’s plan definitely might have some merit.
“Unless you have any objections, of course, Agatha dear. Far be it from me to step on anyone’s toes.”
Vadim covered his smile with his hand. That look of feigned innocence was one of Martha’s signature moves. Cunning women, both.
“N-No,” Agatha answered with barely a tremor. “I have no objections at all.” Indeed, after declaring herself against Edric so many times, what else could she say without her looking a fool or a liar? It didn’t stop her from looking particularly sour, though.
“Wonderful.” Lulu clapped her hands in delight. “In that case, I think I’ll pop up to my room and start titivating myself for tonight’s feast. Hmm… but what should I wear? Would you mind coming to help me choose something suitable, Agatha dear? I do so value your advice, for you know master Edric better than anyone. When he sets out in the morning I want him to have a pleasant memory to take away with him.”
Muttering and grousing beneath her breath, Agatha rose stiffly from her seat and followed a humming Lul
u out of the hall.
“This won’t end well.” Martha said, once they were out of earshot.
For his part, Vadim was inclined to think she was right.
Chapter Eleven
By the time he got back from the lists, Anselm was hot, tired, and hungry.
Not only that, but he was bruised black and blue and bore the pungent, musky reek of a dog otter.
If he hoped to make tonight’s farewell feast, he would have to hurry. Rather than waste time having a bath brought up to his private chambers, he decided to visit the public bath house instead.
“Run up to my rooms and bring me a fresh set of clothes, would you, Percy?” he asked the lad walking at his side burdened by the weight of Anselm’s sword belt. “The dark blue tunic—the one with silver edging—I think.”
Now that Anselm was finally back in training, Vadim had seen fit to give him his very own squire. Thus far, it was all working out rather nicely. Being the eldest son of some minor noble, young Percy was a pleasant enough sort of fellow. Quietly respectful, the lad seemed not to mind that he’d been assigned to one of Edgeway’s most infamous knights.
“Yes, m’lord.” Inclining his head, Percy hurried away, leaving Anselm free to seek out the steaming hot tub he craved so badly. Erde! He could hardly move faster than a shuffle, so stiff were his poor abused muscles. The way he was walking, people might be forgiven for thinking he had soiled his trews. Training daily alongside so many opponents who hated him to his very marrow wasn’t easy. Not one of them could claim to have gone soft on him.
Still, in a perverse way, Anselm couldn’t deny it felt good to ache so badly, to have the weight of good, honest exhaustion weighting down the muscles of his limbs. It meant he was getting fitter, stronger. And by the spirits, he would need all of his newly recovered strength if he hoped to survive the quest they were about to embark upon.
When the king said dance, what else could any man do but obey?