Part 7 (1/2)
He couldn't bring himself to deny it before the door closed behind Clar. Honor demanded that he forget about Auder. She wasn't the right woman for him, nor could she belong to him even if he wanted her to.
But the memory of her kiss haunted him, making him wonder why she had provoked him in such a way. And what on earth he was supposed to do about it.
In the morning, Auder blinked at the harsh sunlight. She'd hardly slept at all last night, for today was her last day among the o Reillys. It also marked the feast of Bealtaine, a time when prayers were spoken to bless the land and the animals. A time honoring the fertility of women, when the old ways were remembered.
Men and women would lie together this night, and many children would be born the following spring. More of the Dalrata tribe members would join them, and several men and women would handfast, marrying for a year and a day, if not longer.
A sense of isolation shadowed her, for she would not partic.i.p.ate in the celebrations. In the morning, she would travel to the Norman settlement, and this night would be her last among friends and family.
Near the outer gate, she saw the glint of chain mail armor. Two of the Norman soldiers were speaking to Trahern. One stared at her, and her lungs seized with fear. Though she knew it was irrational to be so afraid when she would be living among them soon enough, she couldn't cage her feelings. Trahern's hand rested upon the sword at his waist, while Gunnar was nowhere to be seen. Several of the other men were approaching the soldiers, their hands gripping weapons in a silent threat.
”Auder, go back and remain hidden,” came a female voice. She saw Morren standing behind her, and the woman's face was pale. ”Let Trahern handle this.”
”Why are they here?”
Morren shook her head. ”Just go. Quickly.”
Her heart was racing, but Auder turned her back and obeyed. She didn't want to leave yet-it was too soon. But if the Norman baron commanded it, she doubted if she could refuse.
With the uneasiness weighing down upon her, Auder entered the storage hut that led to the hidden souterrain pa.s.sage beneath the cashel. Though it was likely unnecessary to hide there, it was the safest place she could think of.
She climbed down the ladder until she reached the stone-lined chamber below the earth.
The air was cooler, and she sat down against the frigid wall, flinching as she wondered how long she should remain here. With her knees drawn up, she exhaled, s.h.i.+vering as a cloud formed from her breath.
”Auder, what are you doing here?” came a voice. Gunnar returned from the opposite side of the souterrain pa.s.sage, his face shadowed in darkness.
”The Norman soldiers are here.” She gripped her arms, steeling herself against the cold. ”Morren ordered me to remain hidden. What about you?”
”Trahern asked me to guard this exit, in case anyone tried to invade the pa.s.sage.”
She glanced back at the ladder leading to the storage hut. ”Should I go back?”
”No. I'd rather be the one to guard you.” He set down his s.h.i.+eld and leaned against the wall beside her. She couldn't read his expression, since the only light came from the overhead entrance by the ladder, but she could hear the tension in his voice. Whether he was angry at the soldiers or at her, she didn't know.
Several minutes pa.s.sed before he demanded, ”Last night...why did you do it, Auder?”
”I didn't want to kiss any of the others,” she admitted. ”I thought you wouldn't mind. Besides, it was your idea for me to enter the race.” She turned her gaze away, not wanting to hear any reasons why he hadn't wanted her kiss.
Gunnar s.h.i.+fted his weight against the wall, and she heard him expel a sigh. ”Auder, I don't know. As friends, we-”
”I know what you're going to say.” She hugged her knees tighter, cutting off his excuses. ”Gunnar, you don't need to explain why I don't interest you as a woman. I know it already, and it doesn't bother me. Your interest is in Clar.”
”I'm glad you understand that.” But there was something else in his tone, almost as if he wanted to say more.
”Good.” She waited for him to go, or to make some sort of pitying remark. Instead, he reached down and helped her to stand up. He took both of her hands in his, as though he were trying to make a decision. ”Is something wrong?”
Gunnar didn't answer. The heat of his skin warmed her, and she had the sense that he was choosing his words carefully. Long moments pa.s.sed before he finally asked, ”Did you believe that was a real kiss?”
”Of course.” She frowned. Was he criticizing her lack of experience? She'd been nervous enough, and she'd gotten it over with as quickly as possible. ”It won't happen again,” she promised. ”You can go back to Clar with a clear conscience.” She tried to pull her hands back, but he refused to allow it.
”The problem is,” he said slowly, ”I've been thinking about it ever since yesterday. And I don't know why.”
Against her better judgment, her heartbeat quickened. She tried to keep her tone una.s.suming. ”Gunnar, I meant nothing by it. Truly.”
Never in a thousand years would she admit to him that she had imagined him kissing her back, the way he'd kissed Clar. There was no reason to humiliate herself, not when it would never happen. Best to pretend it was of no importance.
Gunnar released her hands, but she didn't move. He leaned in so that his mouth rested against her ear. ”I don't believe you.”
A chill rose upon her flesh, a tightness at the lie. His fingers moved lightly up her back, and an almost violent tremble poured through her. He was so close, she could smell the light scent of oak and wood ashes upon his skin.
She didn't dare move, terrified he would stop. Within his posture, she sensed a mixture of interest and s.h.i.+elded anger at himself. It took everything she had to take a step away from him. ”I'm going back now. And I think you should return to Clar.”
But he took her hands and trapped them against her own waist. She could feel his warm breath against her mouth.
”What are you doing, Gunnar?” she breathed.
”d.a.m.ned if I know.”
There was hesitation in Auder's eyes and a shocked awareness. Though there were a hundred thousand reasons why Gunnar shouldn't kiss her, the doubts about Clar were growing darker. He liked the widow, but before he made any commitment to her, he needed to know if he was making a mistake. If perhaps, there should have been something more.
Auder's gentle brush of lips lingered with him still. It had haunted him last night, and perhaps kissing her again would end all of the forbidden thoughts. It might solidify his decision to choose Clar and settle for a quiet, pleasant handfasting.
He slid his palms upon her nape. Strands of her hair had fallen about her face, despite the braids pulling it away from her cheeks. When he bent his mouth to hers, she caught her breath, their lips merging in softness. He nipped at her upper lip, coaxing her to open more.
She faltered at first, as though uncertain of what he wanted. But then, when he kissed her harder, she melted into him, her hips seeking his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, as though she needed him to keep her balance. The softness of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressed into his tunic, and he couldn't stop the roar of desire that awakened.
She had an instinct of what to do, and as he deepened the kiss, her tongue slipped against his. ”That's right,” he encouraged her, threading his own tongue with hers.
Sleek and wet, she let him invade her mouth, kissing him back as though he were the only man left in the world. There was an eagerness, a willingness to please, that made him forget all the reasons he was courting Clar. His hands moved down Auder's back, over her taut bottom. He kissed her until his mouth grew numb, until he caught himself rubbing his shaft against her, needing to satiate the rigid l.u.s.t.
Gunnar let go, jerking away as though she'd caught fire. Auder's breathing was unsteady, her shoulders trembling. Her hair hung over one shoulder, against the b.r.e.a.s.t.s he wanted to touch. He wanted to peel off her gown, to expose her skin and watch the nipples pebble in the wind. To take the tight buds into his mouth, making her moan with the same l.u.s.t he was feeling right now.
G.o.d help him, he needed to cease this madness.
”Was that...a real kiss?” she ventured. She clenched her waist as though trying to hold herself together.
”I'm sorry.” He strode past her, to the exit of the souterrain, furious at himself for starting this. He'd been caught up by her innocence and the way she'd responded to him. If he hadn't stopped himself, he'd have taken her right here, claiming her with his body.
Gunnar didn't look back, for his thoughts were in complete disarray. He wished he'd never kissed Auder, for it had only driven home what he'd already suspected.
It couldn't be Clar. Not anymore.
The light at the edge of the souterrain was s.h.i.+elded by the underbrush. The sound of voices outside caught his attention, and Gunnar's hand went to the battleaxe at his waist.
Without warning, the branches moved, and men charged inside the souterrain.
”Auder, get out!” he roared, as he unsheathed the axe and swung hard.
They were going to kill him. She was sure of it. Auder didn't know what power moved through her, but instead of obeying Gunnar, she ran for one of the torches near the ladder that led above to the cashel. If he couldn't see, he couldn't fight.