The Crimson Castle Page 14
Evelyn awoke from a dreamless sleep as her ears detected an unfamiliar sound and as she stretched languorously, she turned to Gabriel, her eyes tracing his strong profile in the dark haze. She could not contain the gratified smile that spread across her face as she watched him sleep, and she remembered the touch of his dangerously seductive mouth upon her skin. Desire pooled deep in her stomach, igniting a throb between her thighs.
A low moan escaped his lips and startled her as he tossed suddenly. Recognising a nightmare as his eyes flicked below their closed lids, she placed a hand upon his chest, whispering his name. She wondered what torments his mind was plaguing him with.
A strong hand grasped her wrist and she called his name more loudly this time as he pushed her hand back to the bed, pinning it in place. She gave a noise of surprise, and seeing his eyes were still shut, she tried to put her free hand up to his face as he rolled on top of her, holding her captive under his body. Her other hand became pinioned like the other and she looked at him in wide-eyed in astonishment as his terrible thoughts played out through his face.
“Gabriel!” she said more forcefully this time, as she struggled underneath his hard body.
His movement stilled, his grip remaining on her wrists, and he looked at her in confusion as his eyes opened suddenly. Taking in her restrained state, he released her and jolted upright, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and running a hand through his hair – his tell-tale sign of frustration.
She scrambled over the bedclothes to him, laying her head against his bare back, brushing her hands over his shoulders and down to his waist before encircling it, trying to offer some form of comfort. His chest heaved and glistened with moisture as he held his head in his hands. Moving her way around his body, she pushed his hands away from his face so she could straddle him, placing kisses along his neck and jawline.
His breathing eased and his tense body relaxed under her attentions as he reached for her wrist. He brushed his lips across the delicate skin underneath, murmuring against it, “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head, holding back a shiver as he brushed his lips up her arm, whispering her name. His stubble brushed the side of her breast as he continued upwards to her shoulder and a whimper escaped her lips. The small sound of pleasure ignited a flame of passion in his eyes and he bit into her shoulder as she dug her fingernails into his back. Gone was the gentle tenderness, replaced with a fiery thirst within them both.
Pulling her tightly against him, she felt his hardness pressed against her delicate sex and his name shuddered from her. In response he claimed her mouth with hot and demanding kisses, their tongues dancing, their teeth clashing, in an effort to devour one another. Their bodies rocked together, both now sheening from the torturous sensations.
Gabriel bit his way down her neck before pressing his face between her breasts, forcing her up on to her knees so he could revere her form. Taking one nipple, then the other in his scorching mouth, Evelyn’s head lolled back and her lips parted in ecstasy, her eyes clamped shut as she pulled at his hair, clamping his head to her chest.
Emboldened by desire, Evelyn moved her hands down between their bodies until they brushed at the sensitive skin of his manhood. When she wrapped delicate fingers around it, marvelling at the feel of his straining fervour, he looked up at her in surprise and groaned at the sweet torture of her inexperienced hands. Her tongue traced a line over her bottom lip and she looked at him, pupils wide, as she slid out of his embrace and dropped to the floor in front of him.
The need to taste him consumed her and Gabriel watched in awe as she dipped her head to touch her tongue to the soft tip, licking at the salty heat. His body trembled at this timid touch and he tangled his fingers through her curls as she took another taste, this time taking him into her mouth. His hips jerked and she smiled at his response, continuing to lick and taste.
Unable to take any more he pulled her to her feet and they stood skin on skin. With nothing but the moonlight highlighting their bodies, they took in the sight, before grasping each other and their lust enflamed once more. Gabriel’s rough hands clutched at her face as she gripped at his shoulders and they stumbled backwards in a searing embrace. Her back met the cold stone wall and forced a gasp from her which he absorbed with the gratifying warmth of his mouth.
His hands roamed her body, the careful, caressing touch from earlier that night gone, replaced with sheer desperation, and she whimpered as his fingers worked their way through the dampness between her legs to increase the feelings building within her. Her legs quivered but he kept her pinned with the honeyed torment of his touch until she feared she could take no more.
Calling his name pleadingly as he plundered her mouth once more, he finally released her, callused hands grabbing her buttocks and lifting her so her legs encased his hips. His teeth bit at her neck and he pushed against her, her heat encompassing him swiftly, causing them to still in shock at the sensation.
Gabriel hesitantly moved against her and feeling her clench in response, he quickened the pace. Spurred on by her quivering sighs, he drove himself into her as she tracked her lips across his face and they set up a frantic pace. Echoing cries of pleasure sounded as they clutched at each other and Gabriel thrust with unflinching power until she wilted with gratification and he felt his answering release consume him.
They stayed coupled until the intensity abated and Gabriel slowly released her, still holding her weary body. He cradled her against him as he took her back to bed, laying her down with such tenderness that Evelyn feared her heart might break in two. As he brushed a gentle kiss down her nose, she smiled up at him.
His returning smile was so filled with gratitude and love that she momentarily forgot what was awaiting them that very day. The sunlight began to flicker in through the window, bringing an unwelcome reminder of reality, and Gabriel turned his face towards it, a grim cloud of realisation casting its shadow.
Evelyn cupped his cheek and turned him to look at her. “Run for me, Gabriel.”
“Evie…?” He frowned, not sure what she was asking of him.
“Do not stay to die. If you can escape after…” she trailed off unwilling to say the words. “Do not stay. I could not bear to see you face the hangman’s noose.”
He nodded in understanding and lay down, drawing him to her. He had already considered running, to France or maybe the north, but he was tired of trying to escape his troubles and even if he managed to, what life could he possibly lead knowing he would never see Evelyn again? But he could not refuse her. He had already proved he would do anything she asked of him.
“I will try.”
Evelyn saw the weariness in his features and she prayed that events would allow him to move on, to be truly free. She knew with heart-breaking clarity that she would never neglect to remember their stolen moments together but to think of him safe would lessen the torment to her mind.
He skimmed his hands over the contours of her body, tracing her curved waist and cupping her breast in his hand. “I must away. The servants will be stirring.”
Nodding, she clung to him, burying her head in his neck and trying to hide her sorrow. He drew her away slowly and brushed at a tear with his thumb. He stood and searched out his clothes while she wrapped her sheet around her naked body, suddenly feeling achingly exposed. She watched every movement of his lithe body as he dressed, trying to imprint the ripple of each muscle into her memory.
Fully dressed, he gave her a desolate look which gave way to an expression of pure determination. “I will not fail you, Evelyn.”
“You could never fail me, Gabriel, no matter what transpires.”
She did not reach out to him, fearing it would break the fragile restraint she had on her emotions, but he came to her nonetheless, pressing a final kiss to her lips before turning to leave. They shared a last glance, both hearts hammering painfully before he closed the door and she crumpled, knowing whatever happened that would be the last she saw of him.
C
hapter 11
With a heavy heart, Gabriel met with Tibald in the Great Hall, who was sat on the dais tucking into his morning meal with relish. The hall was deserted and Gabriel looked around cautiously. He had intended to lure Tibald into his solar but now was a good a time as any.
“Good morrow, Gabe. I did not see you at mass,” he spoke through a mouth of crumbs, waving his bread at him and Gabriel looked at him in distaste, “or my bride for that matter,” he added.
Gabriel’s heart started at this offhand comment and his clammy hand rested on the pommel of his sword. “I was checking the preparations for the celebrations, my lord.”
Tibald gave him a disinterested look, not seeming to notice his nervous countenance and motioned him to sit.
“Will you not dine with me? I have a matter I would speak to you of.” Noticing Gabriel’s reluctance he continued. “‘Tis concerning the Merston lands.”
A puzzled frown crossed Gabriel’s face but he sat, curiosity getting the better of him, concluding that a few moments longer would not damage his cause.
Tibald gave him a grin as he proffered the wine and pushed a plate of fish towards him. Gabriel had no appetite but he took a swig of wine, draining the chalice, hoping to ease his tensions. He caught Tibald studying him and raised his brows at him questioningly.
“What of my lands?”
Tibald pursed his lips and stood, dropping his hunk of bread unceremoniously on the table. He turned as if thinking and move towards the fire. Gabriel watched his erratic behaviour with bafflement. His master was given to odd moods but he seemed more irrational than usual. Tibald motioned for him to join him and he obediently followed wishing he would get on with it so Gabriel could move to the task at hand.
Putting a large hand to his shoulder, Gabriel looked at him with unease. “You have served me well these past years, Gabe. I have been of a mind to reward you.”
“My lord…?” Gabriel blinked as his vision blurred slightly. He became aware of a tingling sensation working its way through his body and he wondered if it was a symptom of his apprehension.
Tibald laughed and slapped him roughly on the back, sending him stumbling towards the table as he became unsteady on his feet. “Well, that was until you helped yourself to your own reward…”
Sweat beaded on Gabriel’s face and realisation hit him with a blow as pain coursed through his body. He drew his sword, taking a shaky step towards Tibald.
“You knew?”
Tibald sneered, “Of course I knew. I am no fool. I watched you with her… I watched you pant at her heels for scraps of her affection. You are weak, Gabe,” he spat.
Gabriel realised now, all those looks of amusement were not directed at Evelyn but at him. He could not believe he had been so idiotic as to believe that Tibald would allow him to court Evelyn right under his nose. His obsession with her had drowned his sense of caution. His stomach clenched in agony as the poison worked its way through his body.
“Did you really think it would be that easy?” Tibald drew his sword, waving it in front of Gabriel’s face, taunting him, knowing full well his weakened physical state meant that this was to be no fair fight. He stepped into guard, his wrist turned upwards, mockingly inviting Gabriel to take the first step.
Taking a desperate lunge towards Tibald, Gabriel clumsily swung his sword at him but Tibald stepped aside easily. He thrust once more, only to be rewarded by the scrape of steel upon steel as his blade slide down the length of Tibald’s.
He was weakening quickly, the poison taking its wicked toll with a quick efficacy. Tibald was happy to draw the fight out but Gabriel knew he had little time before his body closed down altogether so he continued on the defensive, attacking with a flurry of blows, easily parried but bringing the two men closer together until they were almost chest to chest.
Breath coming fast now, Tibald slammed a knee into Gabriel’s stomach, forcing the exhausted man to stumble backwards into the table with a clatter as the goblets sloshed their contents in a red pool, a stark reminder of what lay at stake.
Fed up with playing, Tibald took a lunge which Gabriel barely blocked, the hiss of the blade slicing through the leather of his upper arm. Warmth seeped slowly down his arm and he knew he’d taken a hit but he felt no pain, adrenaline still keeping him on his feet.
Exhilarated by drawing first blood, Tibald’s face reflected an excited madness, his eyes wide, tongue darting out of his mouth to lick at his lips with satisfaction. They circled each other warily; the only sounds being the light touch of their feet crunching through the rushes and the inhalation of breath. The agony in Gabriel’s stomach became more acute, nausea swept through him and he dripped with exertion.
“Pray tell me, Gabe, is she worth dying for?”
The thought of Evelyn spurred Gabriel into action and with a feral roar; he pushed himself forwards and took a running thrust, throwing what little strength he had left behind it. He knew he risked being impaled upon Tibald’s blade but pure desperation drove him forwards.
The other man saw it coming and, allowing the blow to slide past, he grabbed at the hilt of Gabriel’s sword bringing it past him, using the opportunity to smash his pommel into Gabriel’s face. He gasped, a red mist forming in front of his eyes and he collapsed to his knees. He could barely feel his limbs now and the sickness overcame him. Tibald kicked his sword from his hands and Gabriel slumped fully to the floor, his breath coming in short pants.
Tibald circled him with slow measured paces, his broadsword pointed at his prone body. “After everything I did for you,” he sighed. “I practically raised you and now you choose to betray me. “
“You made me into an animal!”
“Nay, I made you into a man!” Tibald shouted. “If I had known your head could be turned with such ease by a female, I never would have bothered with you. I should have just let you hang.” Tibald knelt down in front of him and hissed at him, spittle hitting his face. “Tell me, Gabe, did you despoil her?”
Gabriel glared at him through a haze of pain as Tibald watched for a reaction.
“I hope not, for her sakes.” Tibald laughed as Gabriel tried to grab at him and moved aside, kicking at him, entertained by his feeble actions. “Oh worry not, you’re not dying. Just…incapacitated. I may let you live long enough to see me wed my lovely bride. Mayhap I’ll even let you watch me bed her.”
“You bastard!” Gabriel shouted hoarsely, the agony of his failure seizing his heart, far worse that the effects of the hemlock potion. Images of his beautiful Evie swam before his eyes and he saw how Tibald would break her. How she would become a shell of a woman, just as he had a man.
Unseen by Gabriel, some guards had entered at the sounds of the battle and Tibald motioned to them. “Put him in the tower until the ceremony and then bring him to the church. Make him uncomfortable!”
As they dragged Gabriel away, Tibald laughed, “Today is going to be a fine day, Gabe!”
***
Trembling hands had washed the evidence of the night away as she waited in her chambers. Mary no doubt noticed Evelyn’s melancholy mood as she helped dress her for the morning but assumed it was due to the wedding. It was common knowledge that Evelyn was no willing bride.
She waited, feeling as though she were stood on an abyss, powerless to take control of her future. The rebellious part of her urged her to go to Gabriel, to run with him or to even have a hand in their murderous plot, but he had insisted she stay and duty thread its way strongly through her, knowing she could not abandon Beldersert to the unknown.
Pacing between the window and the door, she waited for a shout, some commotion, any sign that the deed had been done, and she imagined she would be able to watch him flee. In her more fevered imaginings she envisaged him coming to her door and sweeping her away with him but she chastised herself for such fanciful notions.
A bang on the door jolted her out of her thoughts and for one blissful moment she believed it may be him. As it swung open abruptly, Evelyn’s
spirits plummeted.
“Ah, my beautiful bride. I trust you are well rested for this happy day.”
She could do nothing but nod, the gnawing unease she felt leaching into every crevice of her body.
“I have wedding gift for you.”
A smile slid across Lord Tibald’s face and Evelyn shuddered knowing her worst fears may have just been realised.
Dread gripped her but she hoped there was some reason, some other explanation as to why Tibald was not dead. Attempting to keep her composure, not willing to jump to conclusions, she returned his smile and took his extended hand as he led her through the castle.
“How kind of you, my lord.”
She swiftly realised he was leading her to the main tower and fear pulled at her as she attempted to strengthen her resolve. He became rougher as they ascended the steep, winding stairs, fairly hauling her along, as she stumbled on the steps. The stairs narrowed as they neared the donjon, a defensive design meaning potential intruders would be unable to unsheathe their swords and allowing the room to need little protection.
A guard stood at the top. Tibald motioned him to open it and with a gruff “Move!” the guard stepped to one side.
The acrid stench of metal hung in the air as Tibald pushed the door open and Evelyn’s stomach lurched as she realised it was the odour of blood.
“My lord, why have you brought me here?” she asked, hoping her alarm was not evident on her face.
He grinned at her, bearing his teeth as if he were a tiger, ready to pounce. “Ah, ah, we don’t want to spoil the surprise do we?”
He pushed her in and she half expected him to slam the door behind her but he followed her in. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness within the tower, she gasped as the recognised the occupant manacled to the wall, arms spread wide almost as if he were a sacrifice upon a cross. Sat upon a filthy layer of rushes, there were no other comforts within the cell. Just the reek of death sat in the moist walls of this perdition.