A Passionate Magic Page 9

  Emma began to wonder if Agatha’s aged mind was faltering.

  “The first thing we must do is get Dain into your bed,” Agatha went on. “I know the recipe for a potion. Tis the same magical draft that was given to Iseult and Tristan, that bound them together forever, through life and beyond, into death. I will make it for you.”

  “No!” Emma cried, thoroughly alarmed by this idea. “I will use no magic to charm my husband. Dain will come to me in genuine desire, by his own will, or I will not accept him.”

  “What you want is rare, child. Dain knows little of love. His father, Baron Halard, grew into a bitter and unloving man, and as for Lady Richenda— well, she never was the kind to happily warm a man’s bed, not even in her youth, and she has always been as cold and unyielding a parent as ever Halard was. Perhaps, if the girl—”

  “What girl? Agatha, what, or who, are you talking about?”

  “I see Dain riding down the road, leading your horse and with a man-at-arms in attendance,” Agatha said, rising from the bench. “It is time for you to return to Penruan.”

  “May I come again?” Emma asked, her mind whirling with unanswered questions. “Or will you come to Penruan?”

  “I only go to Penruan when Dain summons me. Now, don’t forget the basket I gave you. There are rooted herb plants packed in moss for you to set out in the kitchen garden, and a few ointments and tinctures already prepared and sealed in jars and vials, all tucked under those bunches of cut herbs for drying that I laid on top.”

  “There is so much I want to learn from you,” Emma said, thinking of the lady in white, and the girl of whom Agatha had spoken, and the place she thought of as Merlin’s cave. So many mysteries to be solved.

  “You’ve learned more in this one day than you realize,” Agatha said. “So did I learn more from you than I expected. We will meet again soon.”

  Emma rode away, back to Penruan Castle, thinking she must hasten her efforts to establish herself as the castle healer. Not only did she want to make her position secure before Lady Richenda returned, but she felt an urgent need to gather as much information from Agatha as she could. She did not doubt that Agatha foresaw her own death approaching. The thought saddened Emma, but she believed Agatha’s declaration that she was meant to succeed the old healer. After Agatha was gone, if the folk of Trevanan knew they could look to the castle for aid in times of sickness or injury, not only would that be a good use of Emma’s herbal medicines and magical skills, it would also strengthen Dain’s position as lord.

  There hadn’t been time to speak to Dain about her plans before she left Trevanan, not with his man-at-arms and Agatha herself present. Emma resolved to discuss the issue with Dain as soon as he returned to Penruan.

  She looked over her shoulder once and saw Dain still standing before Agatha’s hut, talking to the old woman. And then Emma set her eyes upon Penruan Castle and rode on.

  Dain vowed he would not gaze after Emma like some lovesick minstrel, so he kept his full attention on Agatha.

  “It’s an unusually warm day,” she said, “and you look as if you’ve been working long and hard. Come into the garden, boy, and sit in the shade for a little while and drink a cup or two of my herbal wine.”

  If anyone else had dared to call him “boy,” Dain’s sword would have been out of its scabbard in an instant. But Agatha was different from everyone else. When he was young she had welcomed him into her house and fed him treats and told him romantic tales of King Arthur and his knights. As a child Dain had always found Agatha’s house and garden a sweet respite from his mother’s harsh rule, until Lady Richenda discovered where he went when he left Penruan on his pony. Then Dain had stopped his visits in order to protect Agatha, but once he was lord of Penruan he made a point of asserting himself against his mother’s protests whenever someone at the castle needed the healer’s aid. And now he knew – no one knew better – that he was going to have to fight his mother again for the sake of the castle inhabitants, and for Emma’s right to treat their illnesses. He did not look forward to the battle.

  “Come,” Agatha coaxed him again. One frail hand rested lightly on his arm, and Dain discovered it was remarkably difficult to resist her. “Sit here on the bench, while I get the jug of wine. There are a few pasties left, too. Have you eaten since morning? No, I thought not.”

  It was pleasant to relax in Agatha’s garden, to sip her delicious wine and eat the sweet apple pasties he recalled from his youth. How agreeable it was to visit with a woman who expected nothing at all from him. Dain ate three of the pasties and drank a bit more wine than he intended before taking his leave of Agatha.

  Later in the day she brought more wine to him where he was working, along with a basket of sweet cakes to supplement the fish and vegetable stew and ale the village women were providing to the laborers.

  Dain planned to sleep with his men in Trevanan that night, like them rolled in his cloak on the floor of the house they had almost finished rebuilding. But sleep eluded him, for his thoughts were occupied by Emma. Her beauty and her eagerness to help his people combined to make him overlook his old hatred of her family. When Dain tried to remind himself of how much he despised Gavin of Wroxley, the image of that tall and formidable warrior was supplanted by a more recent vision of Emma’s warm eyes smiling at him. Every attempt he made to concentrate on his long-held, cold rage was interrupted by thoughts of Emma.

  He could not get Emma out of his mind, could not forget the taste of her lips on his. His arms ached to hold her. Nor could he assuage his desire by thinking of other women. It was Emma, and only Emma, who was driving him mad with longing.

  The sun was long set, the stars and a crescent moon were shining in a clear sky, and all of his men were fast asleep when Dain quietly saddled his horse and led it out of Trevanan to the spot where the rutted village road met the cliff road. There he mounted and set his face toward Penruan, and rode as fast as he dared through the dark.

  Chapter 6

  As he crept into his own castle, Dain couldn’t help thinking of the legend of Uther Pendragon, who disguised himself with Merlin’s help and crept into the castle where the lady Igraine lay sleeping. He sated upon her his uncontrollable desire and, in that sating, begat great Arthur. And now Dain walked quietly up the curving stone stairway, too familiar with every step of the way to require any light. He reached the top of the stairs and pushed open the door to the lord’s chamber. As if it were enchanted, the heavy wooden door made no sound, nor did the hinges squeak.

  Dain stood still in the doorway for a moment, aware that here, in his most private room, he was likely to stumble against the new chair and the tables and clothing chests his bride had brought to him. In his own chamber he was like a stranger who did not know where the furniture was placed. With a spurt of resentment he reminded himself it mattered not if he made noise; he had every right to be where he was.

  The window shutters were wide open, allowing a faint light to enter the room. That was odd. Most folk closed and latched their shutters against the night air and against any demons who might be abroad during the dark hours. Somehow he was not at all surprised to know that Emma did not fear the night demons.

  He tiptoed across the room to where a shadow darker than the other indistinct shapes told him Hawise’s door stood open. When he pulled on the door it, like the outer chamber door, closed silently, as if by magic. Still, he discerned a slight stirring from the direction of the large bed. It was possible that Emma had heard him enter, that she was about to waken. Dain waited, motionless, until all was quiet again. Then he stripped off his clothing and headed for the bed.

  Not wanting any interruption, Dain decided the best course was to kiss Emma quickly, before she could awaken and cry out in alarm at finding a man in bed with her and, thus, bring servants and men-at-arms running to her aid. The bed curtains were not closed, perhaps because the night was so warm, and his eyes were rapidly adjusting to the dim light. It was easy to make out the thick braid of Emma
’s dark hair and the pale oval of her face. He could tell she was sound asleep.

  Dain knelt on the bed, bent over, and placed his lips on hers. Emma stirred and murmured something. Her mouth was soft and unresponsive, a sure sign that she remained deeply asleep. Dain lowered himself to the sheets beside her and gathered Emma into his arms, sighing with the sheer pleasure of touching her.

  “Who? Dain, is that you?” She pushed one hand against his chest, waking suddenly, and Dain kissed her again to stifle her outcry.

  Her resistance ceased almost as it began. Her hand slid upward, to his shoulder and then to his face, where it rested, fingers stroking his cheek.

  “You are supposed to be at Trevanan,” she said in a lazy voice that told him she wasn’t completely awake yet. “Why are you here? Is something wrong?”

  “Yes,” he said. ”What’s wrong is that I need you.” He allowed one of his hands to cover her breast, and he took note of the sudden tension in her body.

  “You did not need me before. Are you sure of your need now?” Her fingertips stopped their delightful motions against his cheek. Her voice was full of doubt. “Do you truly want me, Dain? Are you here of your own will, your own free desire?”

  “I am here because I can no longer exist without making you mine,” he whispered. He caught at the braid over her shoulder and began working at the silky hair, unwinding it with an urgency he could not understand. He only knew that he wanted to feel the long, smooth strands running through his fingers.

  “I want you to learn to love me,” she said. “I want a true marriage, children, affection that lasts beyond the first passion and into old age. Heaven help me, Dain, I want all of that with you.”

  Her voice broke and Dain, lying close against her as he was, could feel her gasp. She fell silent, as if she rued her impetuous words. He had no answer for her. He did not know how to love, so he responded to her plea in the only honest way available to him.

  “I want you more than I have ever wanted any woman,” he said. “I can think of no one but you. I ache. I burn. I rode here from Trevanan like a madman, just to lie with you. Give yourself to me, Emma. Don’t send me away now, not when I am so close to you, not when I can hear your heart beating and feel your warmth.”

  “You would accept my refusal?” She sounded as if she did not quite believe what he was saying.

  “I will never take you against your will,” he said, “though I fear I will die if I cannot have you this night, and I will do everything in my power to persuade you to give me what I most desire.”

  “Oh, Dain.” Her whisper was soft, as if her throat was choked with sudden tears. “Don’t you know that I want you, too? I have wanted you since my first day at Penruan, when you came to me in this room and kissed me so passionately, and touched me until I feared my bones would melt from longing.”

  “I rudely mistreated you that day,” he said. “I will not do so tonight.”

  “I do believe you.” She caught her breath, and Dain was painfully aware of her breasts rising against his chest. Only the thin layer of her linen nightrobe lay between them. Dain longed to rip the garment from her lovely body. He told himself to be patient. However intense his own desire, however blinded by lust for her he was, still he must control himself. He did not want merely to ravish Emma. What he wanted was to unleash the passion he was sure resided deep within her, until she responded to him completely. Only then could he know fulfillment of the need that was threatening to tear him apart.

  “I am not sure how to please you,” she said. “I have never done this before, except for that one time with you.”

  “I will show you what to do,” he said. “I know you are a maiden, so I will treat you with care. I’ll try not to hurt you.”

  “I trust you. Please say you trust me, too.”

  For the first time since he had entered the lord’s chamber a faint chill settled around Dain’s heart, slightly cooling his desire and thus enabling him to think about what he was doing. He did not, dared not, trust her completely. To trust Emma could invite disaster for himself and for all those who depended upon him. If he were a wise man, he would rise from the bed where they lay and leave the room, leave Penruan and ride back to Trevanan and stay there for as long as it took to rid himself of a need he ought not to be experiencing.

  Then Emma shifted her position and her thigh brushed against his hardened flesh. The involuntary caress of her smooth skin sent a fire into his veins, and he knew he could not leave her. He would say anything, promise anything, if only she would give herself to him. He could not take; he had never done so with a woman, and he would not do so now.

  “Please say you trust me,” she whispered again.

  “I do trust you to be all that a maiden ought to be,” he said, magically finding the right words through the fevered urgings of both his body and his mind. “I trust you to care for my people with your herbal healing, and to be faithful to me.”

  “I trust you to care for me, to protect me and to be faithful to me,” she whispered, as if she were speaking a solemn vow. “And I trust you to love me, in time.”

  It was not what Dain wanted to hear. He would have preferred words of hot desire. But he reminded himself that she was yet a maiden, unaccustomed to the ways of passion. She was his to teach. He was older and more experienced. Surely he could keep a portion of himself separate from her, so that he could continue to guard his life, his castle, and his people against Emma and any intrusion she might invite from Wroxley, while at the same time, he would be free to enjoy her favors as completely, and as often, as he desired. What a perfect, subtle form of revenge against Gavin it would be to keep Gavin’s daughter so enthralled by passion that she would forget her loyalty to her father and cleave to her husband, instead.

  He had barely finished the grim thought when Emma wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. For the first time it was she who kissed him, and Dain nearly took leave of his senses at the wonder of her embrace.

  Her tongue touched his lips, and .when he opened his mouth she entered as he had once done to her. Delicately she touched her tongue to his. The eager innocence of her action set him aflame. Dain’s arms encircled her, crushing her to him as he began her first lesson. She learned so quickly that he was forced to tear his mouth from hers lest he lose all control and break his promise not to hurt her. He was hard put not to plunge into her immediately, in order to ease the desperate longing that was rapidly becoming a physical pain.

  He drew a little away from her and began to pull at the hem of her nightrobe, easing the sheer garment up and over her head. She gave no sign of embarrassment, only raising her arms to let him finish removing it. With her covering gone, every bit of her body was available to him, to explore and caress, and Dain reveled in the smoothness of her skin, the soft, sweet-smelling length of her hair, the perfect modeling of her fingers and toes. Most of all, he delighted in her astonished yet eager responses when he touched her in places where he was certain she had never been touched before. Not once did she ask him to stop what he was doing. Instead, her startled gasps, her soft moans, and the fervent way in which she pressed herself against his searching hands all confirmed what he had suspected since the day of her arrival at Penruan. His virgin bride was more than willing to be a true wife to him.

  Soon Emma grew bolder and began to return Dain’s caresses. Her fingertips skimmed across his shoulders and upper arms, then downward along his spine to the cleft of his buttocks, and Dain shook with inner tremors from the sensations she aroused. She caressed his thighs and his calves, all the while murmuring admiring comments on his hard muscles and obvious strength, and Dain was forced to grit his teeth tightly together to keep himself from bursting apart.

  When he kissed and suckled at her breasts, she did the same for him, and Dain was aware of an unfamiliar heat curling downward from his suddenly erect nipples to his tight and aching loins. When he stroked his hands over her smooth abdomen and rounded hips, and allowed h
is lips to follow the same path, Emma returned the caresses a few moments later. She gave so freely and openly of her affection that Dain was shamed by his calculating motives and by his dishonesty. Yet he was unable to stop the slow progression toward the goal that was the heated object of his overwhelming desire.

  As his explorations grew more intimate, Emma became more eager. Her surprised gasps turned to soft whispers of encouragement, and when he finally touched the entrance to the most private area of her body he found her warm and moist, ready for him.

  “Dain,” she moaned, pressing herself against his searching fingers, “I need something, but I don’t know what it is.”

  “I do know,” he whispered. “I will be as gentle as I can.”

  She did not resist when he spread her thighs wider and let his hardness come against her. Bracing himself above her on rigid arms, he pushed deeper.

  “Oh, yes,” she sighed. “That’s the place, that’s what I wanted, only I didn’t know it until now.”

  “It’s what I want, too,” he said, and moved deeper still.

  He held no doubt at all about her virgin state, and he fully expected her to protest that he was causing her pain. He was prepared to deal with tears. Yet Emma accepted his entrance with every indication of joy. Dain moved slowly into her, and Emma’s body stretched around him, opening to him as smoothly and easily as his own chamber door had opened. He felt a small obstruction give way and then he was entirely within her, and her sheath closed tightly about him. Dain stayed perfectly still, not daring to breathe, feeling as though he was suspended somewhere between Earth and Heaven.

  ”0h, Dain!” Her voice was soft, yet he could hear the wonder in it.

  He looked down at her, at the sweet sacrifice to an old feud, and all thoughts of vengeance and warfare vanished. For Dain in that moment, there was only the incredible beauty of his body joined to Emma’s, and his only wish was to give her pleasure.