Page 79 of An Earl for the Archeress

“Do you think Crawford will find us here?” she whispered. “Like this?”

Robert shook his head, prying up her left arm and pulling her hand into his so he could inspect her ring. He twisted it around her finger in a contemplative motion, inspecting the stones. This ring was symbolic of his vow to always protect her, with his sword and even his life, if needed. He would do whatever needed to be done to protect her from Crawford. She knew he would.

“We’re at risk once we leave the deer paths and join the main roads. We shouldn’t tarry, but he won’t find this hut. There are no roads leading here anymore. It was abandoned in my father’s youth and all the paths have been overtaken by forest. Only a deer trail leads through here.” She relaxed an increment and studied the ring as he twisted it around and around.

“Was this also your mither’s?”

He nodded but didn’t speak. She thought on his admission so many nights ago. His father had never protected his mother. His father had killed her. But the ring and the pendant were symbolic as much as they were beautiful. His mother had never been strong enough to stand up to his father, but she would try to do his memories of her proud by wearing these adornments and giving them new life.

She felt him softening, and slowly, he slid free of their coupling. It dismayed her to know it was over so soon, but God above, she would welcome his attentions time and again. In that frenzy of loving, they could have been anywhere, for she had lost all sense of everything around them as he had taken wildly from her and gave as much in return, allowing himself to peak within her.

A chill caused gooseflesh to rise on her arms. Robert groped down behind him and pulled the blanket back up that had wadded around his legs, rolling to one side and tucking it around them both.

“Mine,” he muttered, planting kisses along her ear as he propped himself on his elbow and pressed himself against her warmth. His hand snaked up to hold her breast. “All mine. I’d have had you the moment I saw you had I known what lay in wait for me. Won’t I be the envy of every man?”

“And I of every woman? Seriously. I shall have to watch closely for the women now vying to be your mistress.”

He looked into the fire as if sincerely considering something, continuing to fondle the breast in his palm, rolling the tip between his thumb and finger. She squirmed at the attention, her body not yet sated. “Aye, I’ll have my pick of the women, will I not? Mayhap you can select a fine mistress for me.”

Her mouth dropped open and she slapped at his hand taking liberties with her chest, but he laughed insufferably.

“Rob, that’s nay funny,” she bit out, but he captured her angry hand in his and brought it to his mouth, kissing it.

“Mari. You make it too easy for me to tease you. Holy hell, woman, have some faith in me. I’ve never had such fine loving in all my life. I knew from the moment I saw your body that you would be all I would need to be happily sated until I’m too old to have the stamina. I’ve been bloody fantasizing about this.” He made a point of giving her a searing perusal. “Since I met you. Why on earth would I jeopardize losing it? For I take you at your word. I know you’ll leave me, if you must, and I’ll give you no cause to do so.” His voice gentled and he looked at her lips, brushing his thumb over them. “And you do the same. No flirtations with other men, and I will insist that the ladies in my company remember that their place is not at my side. Agreed?”

She nodded at his declaration. “I won’t share, neither myself nor you.”

“A demanding wench to be certain,” he said, leaning down to nip at her lips.

She giggled. She felt such comfort lying with him, despite their newness to each other. Right now, she saw everything she liked about him. In time she would see his flaws, too, watch him fall ill from time to time, and see the dirty side of marriage, as he would do the same, which would only make them stronger.

“I was a fool about marriage,” he confessed. “I feared it. But I look forward to it now. Of watching you age into a beautiful matriarch, of watching your belly produce my succession, watching your hair gray—”

“Honestly,” she admonished him. “Gray?”

“Yes, gray.” He chuckled. “I can’t wait to see you march about Huntington in your trousers and tunic, never taking shite from me or anyone else. All will work out with your father. I have faith he’ll eventually bestow his blessing, or at the very least, concede defeat.”

He was wrong, yet in the moment, Mariel didn’t want to correct him, but wanted to believe the dream so much that she made it true.

“Well, then, my lord and husband,” she said, “we’ve not much more time to enjoy our wedding chamber. More wine? Or more of me? For I fear there may not be time for both.”

He wrapped his arm around her, using a leg to clamp both of hers and pulled her onto her side, facing him. His softened shaft resting across her thigh was inching to attention again with steady pulses as he nuzzled her. “Ah, my lady, I think the answer should be obvious…” He reached around her, groping outward for something, for their fire had died to orange embers and it was nearly impossible to see. “More wine, of course—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Mariel exclaimed, rolling away and giving him her back.

He laughed. “Perfect, dearest.” Nestling himself against her rear, draping his arm over her, working his other arm underneath her head, his hand caressed down her stomach and rolled over her hip while he urged himself between her legs from behind. Her eyes fluttered shut. “More of you,” he whispered in her ear, joining with her gently this time, as her irritation subsided into a helpless sigh. “Always you. I shall spend a lifetime wanting more.” He kissed her neck. “And more…” He kissed her shoulder. “And more…”

Chapter Twenty-Two

The forest was quiet. Any wind that had rustled the leaves was now still. Dawn was quickly approaching and foolishly, Robert had allowed himself to fall asleep tangled up in Mariel’s limbs, the sated husband. They rode silently on Goliath’s back, his spare horse in tow again, aiming for the quickest route back to Huntington Castle. Mariel rode aside and leaned her cheek on his heart. He sensed she was comforted by it, for all morning she had been fretting about her father searching these very forests. She would be safe if he could get her back within Huntington’s walls.

Their hair was unkempt, their clothing wrinkled, bundled in their cloaks. He watched their breath escape in puffs of steam into the chilly air, knowing she did the same. Her scent was all over him, as he knew his was on her, and the taste of her mouth still lingered in his. She belonged to him. He would protect her. He would protect her… If only he hadn’t fallen asleep. If only they had made the trip home, they would have woken in his bed, concealed by his bed curtains—

A snapping of twigs caught Robert’s attention. He reined in Goliath, pausing and listening for the sound to come again so he could place its location. It didn’t come again. Mariel sat upright.

“Let’s get you remounted, get bow and arrows in hand,” he whispered sharply. She nodded and was about to slip down from Goliath when horses emerged onto the well-traveled road.

“Well, well, it seems the young earl found my betrothed.” William de Wendenal sneered. “But the question now is, what did he do to her?” He gave her disheveled appearance a perusal.