I was a fool to avoid babes and new mothers. Toddlers and young children. I shunned them, afraid of reviving the pain of my unbearable loss. And yet I find the opposite is true. The maternal love I have for Lukaz—and now for this newborn babe—have filled my empty soul and replaced the desolate grief with a desperate longing for another child.
The late autumn chill nipped at her cheeks as she trudged through the forest, lost in thought. Vill bounded ahead when the cozy stone cottage came into view. The acrid smell of woodsmoke and the savory aroma of rabbit stew wafted from the fireplace into the early evening air.
Her pulse fluttered wildly with anticipation. Cardin would be coming soon.
Every night now, once he’d tucked Lukaz in and told him a bedtime tale, Cardin slipped from the castle and joined her at the cottage. They shared a simple meal, caressed each other in front of the fire, and made love in the moonlight amongst the soft furs in her bed.
Ulla’s legs quivered under her woolen kirtle. By the Goddess, she yearned for him. And loved him more and more every passing day.
Each time she melted in his arms, dizzy with desire. Each time he coaxed her to climax with his clever tongue. Each time he poured himself into her and filled her with seed.
Her heart clenched at the thought of him departing for Aquitaine.
He’ll leave me soon. When the holidays are over, he’ll go back to Biarritz. Lukaz will return to Finistère with Gabrielle and Bastien to begin his official training as a knight. I’ll be alone again, like before. But this time, love will nurture my soul. I’ll have these treasured memories forever. And perhaps, Goddess willing… Cardin’s child.
Thick ivy vines twined up the arched trellis over the entrance of her cottage. She climbed the three stone steps, unlocked the solid oak door, and followed Vill inside. Placing her herbal supplies in the corner cupboard of her kitchen, she leaned against the counter, her throat constricting with sudden dread.
Lukaz would be devastated if Cardin abandoned him again.
Ulla ladled fresh water from a bucket, filled Vill’s bowl, and set it on the floor for him to drink. She stared sightlessly at her wolf, seeking a solution.
Perhaps she could convince Laudine to keep Lukaz here atle Château de Landuc.He could live in the castle, continue the archery lessons with Ulla every morning, and hunt at her side with Vill, Finn, and Rask.
Supervised by his illustrious grandfather—the renowned Red Knight, Sir Esclados le Ros—Lukaz could begin his formal training as a squire under the tutelage of Sir Olivier de Montfort, First Knight of Landuc, and not be forced to return to ridiculeas a bastard whose father had fled once again.
Her hopes gained momentum as her mind raced with ideas.
Quentin, as Master of Horse, could help Lukaz develop advanced equestrian skills. In three or four years—when the Friesian colt was ready—Lukaz would be a proficient horseman, able to ride Kol for the daily hunt with Ulla. Every summer, when Bastien brought his sons Gunnar and Haldar south to train atla Joyeuse Garde,Lukaz could join them and learn superior swordsmanship from the legendaryLancelot du Lac.
Her spirit soaring like her falcon Finn, Ulla’s loving heart overflowed at a tender, endearing thought.
She could be the mother that Lukaz never had.
A knock at the entrance interrupted her reverie.
Ears perked up in alert, Vill dashed to the door and snuffled at the threshold. Recognizing the familiar scent, the wolf’s tail thumped against the wall as Ulla let Cardin in.
He swept her into his sinewy arms, swirling her in a dance of joy. “By the Goddess, I’ve missed you. You’ve been in my thoughts all day long.” As if to prove his point, he pulled her hips against his, pressing the hard evidence against her soft stomach. He nuzzled her neck and kissed her lips. “Something smells incredible.” He sniffed the air appreciatively, a wolfish grin stretching across his scarred, handsome face. “Rabbit stew. Let’s eat. I’m starved.”
Ulla chuckled silently as she led him into the kitchen where a ravenous Vill gnawed furiously on a large, meaty bone.My wolves are always hungry,she mused, seating Cardin at the table and pouring two goblets of rich red wine. She handed him a pewter chalice and smiled as he sampled the beverage.The earthy taste will complement the mushrooms in the stew and enhance the flavor of the meat and fresh herbs.While he savored the heady wine, she fetched two bowls, two spoons, and a loaf of grainy meslin bread.
Wrapping her hand in a thick cloth, she lifted the simmering pot from the hearth and set it on a rack upon the kitchen counter. Into Cardin’s bowl, she scooped three heaping ladles of stew, with two for herself. She served him with an impish kiss and took her place at the table.
He devoured half the bowl with greedy relish, smacking his smiling lips. A roguish glint gleamed in his dark, dancing eyes. “My compliments to the cook.” He raised his goblet in tribute. “To another of your culinary delights.”
Ulla watched him sop up every last drop of stew with a large hunk of bread. When he’d finished, he licked his fingers and hummed in approval. The deep rumble of his voice rippled up her limbs and settled in her loins.
“That was delicious.” He downed the rest of his wine and rose to his feet. Circling behind her chair, he brushed the long hair away from her shoulder and swooped down to nuzzle her neck. “Almost as delicious as you.” With the tip of his tongue, he traced her sensitive skin, sucking softly on the lobe of her ear. “I want to taste you, Ulla. Come to bed.”
Abandoning the dirty dishes and empty pot on the kitchen counter, she followed Cardin as he took her by the hand and led her down the hall.
Inside the bedroom, he stoked the banked embers and added another log to the hearth. The crackling fire roared to life and removed the autumn chill from the moonlit room.
Legs quavering, pulse fluttering in her throat, she stood in breathless anticipation as he returned to unlace her bodice and bare her breasts. When his warm lips alternated between each of her aching nipples, Ulla’s knees went weak with desire.
He pushed the gown over her shoulders and down her hips, helping her to step out of the dress, which he folded and tossed onto a chair near the bed.
While Ulla stood shivering—and not from the cold November night—Cardin unstrapped his sword, shed his clothing, and laid her gently upon the bed.
