Their Lady Gloriana

Chapter One
Middlemound Castle, England, June 1272

“Riders come, my lady! Two of them,” a guard called down from the parapet to Gloriana where she stood in the gardens. “They bear the King’s banner.”

She raised her head toward the guard and felt chills spiraling up her spine. News. Bad news. She sensed it to her soul. “Allow…” She had to clear her throat before she could finish. “Allow them entry.”

The two maids working with her to gather vegetables looked worriedly at her. One of them hurried to her side. “Are ye all right, my lady?”

No. She was far from being all right, but she refused to show weakness to her servants. They’d witnessed enough of that in the past. She forced a reassuring smile and handed the younger woman the basket she’d been holding. “I’m fine, really. ‘Twas just a surprise.”

With that said she walked around the corner of the keep and heard the unusual silence in the bailey. She noted the dozen or so soldiers who had been training there now stood still, tense and cautious. All had heard rumors from traveling tinkers that the last battle of the Crusade had ended. All were awaiting the return of their lord and the men who had gone off to fight with him. Like her, though, none were overly eager to have Geoffrey Stewart back. He was a hard man, cruel and vicious at times…especially to her. No, she did not look forward to hearing news that her husband of barely three years would soon be home.

Her red-haired bailiff Sir Gerald strode toward her. He’d become her fierce protector during her second difficult year with Geoffrey and had often dared to come between his lord and her. She’d worried that Geoffrey would one day lose the last of his patience and kill the man, and that worry returned now at seeing her knight’s expression.

“He will not harm you again, my lady,” Gerald vowed. His nostrils flared and cords stood out in his thick neck.

“You must not put yourself in harm’s danger, Sir Gerald.” She held her chin high, tried to keep from showing the tremble of alarm spreading through her. “Your lord would never truly hurt me.” ‘Twas a lie and they both knew it. He’d seen her bruised face on occasion; he’d seen her walk gingerly after yet another sound lashing. Yet it wasn’t the beatings that hurt her the most. No, her husband flayed her even worse with his harsh tongue. Gerald’s brow furrowed and his gaze darkened. She noticed the way his hands fisted at his sides. But before he could respond, they were interrupted by the pounding of hooves across the wooden drawbridge.

Gloriana stiffened her spine, prayed her knees would not fail her, and waited for whatever news the messengers were to deliver.

The small contingent of soldiers in chainmail and bearing the king’s banner rode between the rows of silent men straight to her. She fought against rubbing her nervous stomach and sucked in a breath to calm her racing heart as she ran her clammy hands over the sides of her gown.

She watched as Gerald stepped forward and stopped next to the lead soldier. Both men nodded in acknowledgment. Without saying a word, the man extended a rolled parchment. “You may find food and ale in the hall,” Gerald offered. He waved a page over. “Tend to their horses.” The men glanced toward Gloriana. She had to swallow down a lump of distress before she could force a hint of lightness to her tone. “Please go inside, as Sir Gerald said. The maids will see that you are fed and given drink.”

The tension eased from the soldiers’ expressions and they began dismounting. Her own men watched in continued silence. She wished they would go about their business again, but she knew they were waiting for her to read the message. They waited to be told the news that might affect the castle.

As the king’s soldiers moved away, Gerald extended the parchment toward her. She shook her head. Her hands were trembling too much, her thoughts scattering in fear of hearing that her husband would be here within a day or two. She wasn’t ready to see him again, even if she had no choice. “Nay, I would ask you to read it to me.”

He glanced around. Gloriana was aware the silence remained heavy around them. Nearby soldiers, villagers, and servants waited for the news the king’s men had brought.

“Please,” she prompted, her voice quavering.

With a nod of acceptance, he untied the parchment. The paper crinkled loudly as he unrolled it. His eyes widened as he read it over quickly and then frowned at her. “’Tis two items of importance, my lady. Are you sure you don’t wish to read it yourself?”

She shook her head, and then commanded, “Read it.”

He pulled in a breath and said with grimness, “Lord Middlemound will not be returning, my lady. He died over a month ago in the battles.”

Gloriana’s knees gave out in her shock, and one of the nearest soldiers hurried to steady her. “Not returning? Dead?” The words left her mouth in a whisper. Relief filled her instead of sadness. But that was wrong. She would beg forgiveness for such an awful sin in her prayers later.

A quiet hum began around the bailey as word spread quietly but speedily of their lord’s death. She sensed relief from her people as well. She could pick out not one word of unhappiness or regret in the soft din of voices. How very sad it was that one should die and no one expressed sadness at the death. But, there it was, Geoffrey Stewart had been a man no one would miss. Certainly not her.

Gerald caught her attention once more and said with clear unhappiness, “King Edward has decreed that you will marry Lord Montrose upon his arrival at Middlemound. He is travelling here with his men and with Lord Middlemound’s men.”

The buzz around her became louder as the additional news spread. She heard the mixed opinions, sensed the mixed emotions. She’d seen Lord Montrose once at Edward’s court. What she remembered was a big man, even taller and brawnier than Geoffrey. He’d had striking dark blue eyes and a hardened look to his handsomely carved face. Yet not one of the women who’d danced at the ball with him appeared to fear him. No, most all but drooled over him. She, of course, had been with Geoffrey and had not danced with him, nor even been allowed very close to him.

Gerald watched her. “Lord Montrose is a fierce warrior, I’ve heard. They say he’s the very devil in battle, but a good leader.” A devil in battle…fierce warrior. Nerves twisted and twined in her stomach. Geoffrey had been fierce, too. A devil as well.

“Those who have sworn allegiance to bear a sword at his side do so with pride.” His awe toward the man rang clear in his words and in his eyes. “He was widowed long ago and has a son. Fostered out by now, I’m sure.”

He shifted uneasily. “I’ve never heard that he treats a woman poorly.”

Again she thought of the man she’d seen at court, a man that none of the ladies had seemed to fear. Dare she hope… Gerald’s unspoken promise replayed in her mind, “He will not treat you poorly.”

It was much to take in: learning she was widowed and betrothed again in the same moment.

“Mayhap you should go lie down, my lady,” the soldier still holding her arm said gently. “That is much news to deal with.”

She blinked out of her musings and nodded as he released her. “Mayhap you are right.” She glanced at Gerald. “Does the missive say when we should expect Lord Montrose?”
“Nay, but I will question the messengers. Mayhap they have an idea of when they will arrive.”

Needing time alone, Gloriana nodded and walked toward the keep. She noted the sympathetic and relieved expressions on the servants she passed. Their uncertainty as well. She suspected many had heard of Lord Montrose’s reputation as a warrior, but she doubted any knew the man himself. He could be as hard a leader as Geoffrey had been. Had not Gerald just told her of his fierceness in battle? To be such, would not the man have to be cruel at times, demanding much of himself and of his men?

Her footsteps slowed as her thoughts tumbled about. Mayhap Montrose was a strong warrior and yet a good and loyal leader, not a cruel one like Geoffrey. How did his intensity as a leader affect him beyond the battlefield? Gerald had not heard that Montrose treated a woman poorly. Yet what a man could do behind closed bedchamber doors… She had far too much experience with the horrors of that.

She shivered at the memories, but shoved them back. Instead her mind recalled watching Montrose from across the ballroom. She saw the politeness, the care he had shown the women he’d danced with. Would such a man turn around and be cruel and demanding in bed? She didn’t think so. She prayed that would not be so. She did know that he had gotten under many women’s skirts at court, as those rumors spread quickly. Surely that meant he most likely was nothing as vile in bed as Geoffrey. But it could mean that he, too, would find his way into more than just her bed. She could probably live with him seeking other women’s beds, since she was already used to that. Still, she would like him to give her a baby.

Gentleness curled through her. Tears misted her eyes. How many nights had she lain awake recovering from Geoffrey’s cruelty and longing for something to give her life meaning? How many times had she ached to hold a wee babe in her arms? Longed to feel its softness, to know its loving trust in her? She would wrap her baby in all the love she had within her. She would protect it with her life. Having a baby to cherish and care for would give her the strength to survive anything.

* * * *

North Yorkshire, England

Thomas stood next to River Ure while his horse drew in water beside him. He looked out over the valley leading to Middlemound Castle. A faint breeze swept over him carrying the scents of sweet clover from the patches bursting with flowers nearby. Along with it, he drew in the heavy smells of sweat. His own and that of Rowan, who stood quietly a few feet away. He imagined all of his men—including his new men—smelled equally as unpleasant after these last long days of travelling.

“I suppose we should all bathe in the river before we head toward Middlemound.” He said the words without hazarding a look at his first knight. He dared not think about the roughly handsome man being naked anywhere near him as long as his other men were nearby. Even the mere thought of Rowan in all his hard-muscled glory, naked, had Thomas’s cock showing interest.

Understanding the problem, Rowan said, “Aye, I’m sure everyone there would appreciate not smelling the stink of our many days on the road.” He turned to head back to where they’d camped last night. “I’ll pass the word.” He hesitated before walking away. “I’ll go into the river farther upstream.”

As he heard his friend move off, Thomas felt the strain of arousal slip away as well. He and Rowan had discovered an appreciation for one another quite by accident almost half a year back.An appreciation that had quickly led to some of the hottest sex he could ever remember experiencing. At first Thomas had been shocked, not sickened or appalled, just surprised. He’d always loved being with women, quite lusted after them actually. He had a hearty appetite for sex, and he’d never had any complaints from his more-than-willing bed partners. Yet he’d never been drawn toward a man before that time with Rowan. He still wasn’t drawn toward other men. Only Rowan fired up his need to make love to a man.
His glance shifted to Castle Middlemound in the distance. It was impressive, sprawling over a large piece of prime land. Even from here, he thought the gray-stoned main structures were three stories high along the east and north sections. And not far from its curtain walls stood a village with many houses. This was a holding of great value. It still surprised him that King Edward had commanded he hold Middlemound and marry Geoffrey Stewart’s widow.

He’d met Stewart on more than one occasion at court and disliked him. He’d distrusted the man even more on the battlefields in Tunis. His death did not bother Thomas at all. But being ordered to wed the man’s young widow did.

He tried to remember seeing her at King Edward’s court, but couldn’t place her. Yet he was certain Lord Middlemound would not have married a woman displeasing to the eye. Not that her appearance would matter to Thomas. He’d bedded his share of homely women and been satisfied. He and Lady Middlemound need only be agreeable in bed together to please him. He would not seek out relief from maids or find a mistress. He’d been faithful to his first wife during the short time they’d been together before her death in childbirth. He would be faithful again.

He heard Rowan’s deep voice telling the men to bathe in the river and his thoughts returned to Rowan. Although he’d tried to convince his first to take over Montrose castle from him, Rowan had refused. He’d also refused to accept a holding of his own offered to him by King Edward. Rowan wanted only to become Thomas’s first in command at Middlemound. He didn’t want to leave Thomas. While Thomas was certain there could be problems ahead, he was grateful for the man’s loyalty both as a soldier and as a lover. For if Gloriana Stewart couldn’t fully satisfy his hungers in bed, at least Rowan could.

* * * *

Middlemound Castle

They were coming. Soon. Dear God, what was she to do? Lady Gloriana stood in front of one of the small windows in the chapel and peered out. She’d fled up here after Gerald had talked to the king’s men and learned Lord Montrose and his soldiers were camped not far from the castle. She’d wanted time alone to find some way to make peace with the latest changes in her life. But her time was quickly running out.

Even now she heard the powerful hooves of the many horses passing over the wooden drawbridge. She looked out the window and saw the large group of men merging with the castle’s guards in the bailey. Her stomach fluttered with nerves. She could barely draw in a breath. This fear, this caution and timidity sickened her. She hadn’t always been this way. Her life with Geoffrey had done this to her. He’d battled down her self-worth, her dreams of having a happy family, and her natural zest for life.

She refused to continue on like this. She needed to find the strength to face this new marriage to this war-hardened warrior. She had to make him respect her, where Geoffrey never had. She had to make him allow her to be the keep’s chatelaine as was her rightful duty, although Geoffrey had never allowed it. Most of all, she had to endure relations with him until he got her with child.

Determined, she stepped away from the window, smoothed down her gown, and gathered her courage. She left the comfort of the small chapel and headed for the stairs. With each step, she considered bolting to her bedchamber and locking herself inside. Keep moving. Don’t be such a weakling!

Her steps faltered as she neared the bottom of the circular stone staircase. The great hall rang with the sounds of joyous reunions. The families of the Middlemound men who had been gone for nearly a year happily greeted the returning soldiers. Men who had stayed behind to guard the castle welcomed the soldiers as well. She heard unfamiliar voices, too, no doubt Lord Montrose’s men. And then the deep tone of another unfamiliar voice. It rang with authority, with power, much like Geoffrey’s voice had. Yet something about it drew her instead of repelling her as his voice had. Something about it called to her woman’s place, and she felt warmth spreading there. The reaction surprised her, but there was no time to think about it now.

“Lady Middlemound,” Gerald said, snagging her attention. “Lord Montrose asks to see you.”

She couldn’t read Gerald’s expression, couldn’t tell if he was unhappy about the situation or resigned to it. At least he didn’t appear angry or overly protective of her. She gave a slight nod and joined him at the foot of the stairs.

The deep rumbling voice she’d heard drew her focus to the raised dais. Two men stood there drinking cups of ale, talking, looking over the hall full of people. Two such different—and yet the same—men. The darkly handsome man she’d seen across the ballroom at King Edward’s court and an almost equally handsome man with blond hair both glanced her way as if sensing her presence. Neither smiled. Both seemed to study her, their gazes sliding from her carefully braided hair to her suddenly aching breasts, down her best jade green gown to her slippered feet. Then as their gazes lifted, her breath caught at the obvious heat in their eyes. Lust. She’d seen it in Geoffrey’s eyes many times, but never directed at her. No, he’d lusted after nearly every other woman in the castle and nearby village but never for her.

Gerald held her arm by the elbow and guided her to the dais. “Lady Middlemound, my lord.” He released her and nodded toward the two powerfully built men. “Lord Montrose, my lady. And Sir Montgomery, his first knight.”

“Thomas,” Lord Montrose said and stepped down in front of her. He towered over her by at least a foot. His breadth and brawn made her heart race. Yet she didn’t feel intimidated by him as she had been by Geoffrey. His dark blue eyes assessed her from beneath thick dark eyebrows, pinched together in thought. Yet they were not cruel eyes. “You may call me Thomas.”

She bobbed her head and had the oddest desire to run her fingers over the dark stubble on his face. Or gently touch the long, thin white scar on the left side of his face running from just to the side of his eye to his jaw. Or to smooth them over his full and tempting lips. All such notions made her blush, made her look away. “Gloriana,” she whispered.

Then the other man stepped down next to Thomas. As she glanced up, he gave her a crooked smile. “And you may call me Rowan.”

She blinked at him and felt her heart race even more. Where Thomas had a head of thick, wavy black hair that brushed his shoulders, Rowan’s hair was dark blond, chin-length and straight. His eyes were brown and appeared both interested in her and slightly amused. “Gloriana,” she repeated, more forceful this time.

Thomas cleared his throat to capture her attention. “We have much to discuss. In private.” “Yes,” she said, again feeling her stomach flutter with nerves. “Yes, we do.” She nodded toward the stairs. “The solar would be good.”

As Gloriana climbed the torch-lit stairs in front of him, Thomas watched the gentle sway of her hips beneath the green gown. She was a tiny woman, delicate, fragile for a man such as him. His first wife had been a woman of fair size, not that he’d minded. They hadn’t been in love and he’d never grown to love her, but she had pleased him outside of the bed. She had managed his household well. His people had respected her, as had he. Yet there had been no lustful feelings between them.

The sweet swell of Gloriana’s buttocks held his gaze.And he recalled how generous her breasts had looked barely contained in the low neckline of her gown. He’d hardened as he’d stared at them, as he’d fought a desire to lower his head and her gown so he could taste of the tempting mounds. He remained semi-hard as he climbed the stairs behind her. He hadn’t been with a woman in months and the need to have a soft, pleasing woman beneath him once again was almost overwhelming. This small woman drew him as no other before her ever had. He was both uneasy with that and glad, for they were to marry. Soon.

He heard Rowan’s heavy footsteps behind him. The two of them had talked about Edward’s decree during their long ride from Tunis. Both of them had concerns about the matter. Neither wanted this marriage to affect their deepening relationship, but both knew it would. Thomas wouldn’t give up Rowan. Somehow he had to make both situations work.
“She’s a pretty one,” Rowan said quietly. “I’m thinking ‘twill nay be a hardship to have her as a wife.”

Thomas considered what his friend said, wondered about the tone of his voice. Rowan bedded women, but he’d told Thomas once that his attraction for women grew less as they grew closer, as their love grew stronger. Yet he was certain he’d heard a touch of envy in his lover’s tone. As if he, too, well appreciated the petite beauty thrust into their lives. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Later he’d ponder the idea.

Gloriana stopped in a doorway, waited with a smile that looked forced. “Geoffrey’s … I mean, your solar, my lord.”

As Thomas strode closer, her eyes widened and held a hunted look. She feared him. Because of his well-known reputation for being a tenacious, often merciless warrior on the battlefields? Because of rumors spread through Edward’s court of his numerous liaisons with women after his wife’s death? He wondered. Or did she fear him just for being a man?
He’d seen how Geoffrey treated women in the towns they’d traveled through on the way to Tunis. Cruel was putting it lightly. He’d even interceded once, making them enemies from that moment on. Had the man been brutal with Gloriana? His hands knotted into a fist. No doubt. The idea sickened him.

He stepped by her quickly so as not to make her any more anxious than necessary. Patience. He would have to draw on his limited patience and settle her down before they married.
“I … I understand you,” she said uneasily, “are to marry me.”

Thomas went to stand by the large, scarred wooden desk and let her frightened words roll over him. Rowan walked beside him, giving him a look of understanding. He’d picked up on her fear as well. Rowan, too, had witnessed Geoffrey Stewart’s vicious side when it came to women. He, too, had despised the older man and had stepped in to defend a helpless young woman.

She eased into the room, although she stayed near the door. She hovered there, giving him the impression she wanted to be there in case she needed to run from them. If ever a woman needed a protector, it was this one. He sighed. He could be her protector, would be her protector. Rowan, too, would keep her safe; there was no doubt of that in his mind.
As he watched her, he felt outraged at what she might have suffered at Geoffrey’s hands. The man had no respect for women, would have had none for his wife. He saw a hint of curiosity in her eyes as she looked from him to Rowan. Those same eyes warmed with sensual interest for the barest of seconds before she blinked it away. The woman had a passion that she didn’t know what to do with, that she feared letting anyone know about. The lovely Gloriana needed a man to teach her the softer ways of intimacy and to unleash her hidden desires. He felt challenged to peel away the layers of fear and distrust, to soothe her worries, and to gain her trust. He looked forward to it.

He met and held her gaze. “Aye, King Edward wants me to hold Middlemound for the crown. It is a valuable asset both land-wise and with people here known to be loyal to him.” Trying to look less intimidating, he leaned back against the desk. “He wishes us to wed as quickly as possible. He believes that as soon as word spreads about Geoffrey’s death, men wanting to lay claim to Middlemound will come from near and far. They will want not only the castle and its lands, but also you.”

“Me?” She blinked in puzzlement. “I have no value, other than having been Geoffrey’s wife.”

The sadness in her expression, that she appeared to believe such nonsense, tore at him. He wasn’t sure what to say.

Rowan answered for him. “You are wrong, Gloriana. You have great value.”

She cocked her head slightly and worried her lower lip for a second. “Geoffrey didn’t value me.”

“He was a fool,” Thomas stated in anger at the same time Rowan said the same thing.

Her pretty face grew pink. “Although it is sinful to speak badly of the dead…or of one’s husband…I agree.”

Thomas smiled at her spark of spirit. He hadn’t smiled in a very long time and was surprised he could even still manage it. Evidently his smile wasn’t as comforting as it should have been because she shifted uneasily.Acrease of concern furrowed her brow.

“Forgive me, my lord,” she said quietly, fidgeting with the folds of her skirt.

“For speaking the truth? Nay, there was nothing sinful in what you agreed to. Geoffrey Stewart was a vile man, disliked by most people who crossed his path. Feared by women unfortunate to come anywhere near him.”

Thomas slammed his mouth shut and wished he had watched his tongue better. She was one of the women who had feared Stewart, one of the women who had been, he was certain, seriously mistreated by him. The man deserved to spend eternity in the fiery depths of Hell. To his surprise, she straightened to her full barely over five-foot height and thrust out her chin. “Aye, I feared the wretched man every day of our life together. But, know you this, I will not endure that kind of life again. No man will ever treat me that way again.”

Thomas felt his chest swell with admiration. Some men would not allow a woman to speak so boldly to them. Many men expected complete submission. He was not one of them. He appreciated honesty and someone who held strong to their beliefs. Aye, with time and patience, they would make a good couple.

“You will never need to fear me, little one.” He meant it. She brought out the fierce protector in him. He would never allow another person to harm her in any manner.
That chin thrust out even farther. “I might be small in stature, Lord Montrose, but do not mistake me for being incapable.”

Rowan gave a chuckle and quickly covered it with a cough.

“Incapable of?” Thomas questioned, curious to what she was referring.

She stopped fidgeting with the sides of her skirt and looked directly at him. “Geoffrey didn’t believe I was capable of acting the chatelaine for the keep. He didn’t think anyone would listen to me, take me serious because of my size. But he was wrong! I’ve acted as chatelaine ever since he left nearly a year ago. My people listen to me, respect me. I want to continue with that duty.”

Thomas had to admit that he’d been concerned about her handling the normal duties of a lord’s wife in the running of the keep. She appeared little more than a child. And she brought out his strong need to protect those weaker than himself. He would try his best to give her some free rein, within reason.

He gave a nod. “As much as I see that you are capable of handling, Gloriana.”

Her lips pursed in annoyance for a second, and then she seemed to accept his statement. Her gaze held his once more, but her creamy cheeks grew pink. “Geoffrey also thought me incapable of pleasing him in bed.” She looked away, curling her hands into fists. “In truth, when we were first married, he never gave me the chance. Then … well, then I lost any interest in doing so.”

She shifted her gaze back to him, anger flashing in those grass green eyes of hers. “He never pleased me either.”

“More fool than we’d first thought,” Rowan said with a snort of disgust.

Thomas glanced sideways at his friend and, again, wondered what Rowan’s feelings were for this intriguing woman. He felt a second’s jealousy. Because he would be Gloriana’s husband and didn’t want another man thinking sexually about her? Or because Rowan might be interested in Gloriana and no longer in him? Or because Gloriana looked as heatedly at Rowan as she did at him? Who was she drawn to?

“Trust me, my lady, you will definitely find pleasure in our marital bed,” Thomas said with determination.

She cocked an eyebrow. “I heard many tales of your conquests at court, Lord Montrose. Often those tales are mere overblown rumors.” Her face hardened. “I’d heard tales about Geoffrey, too, before we were wed.”

Thomas saw Rowan stiffen beside him. He knew Rowan’s need to defend the weaker was even stronger than his own. Had Geoffrey not already been dead, Rowan would have taken his blade and cut off the older man’s cock for what they both suspected he had done to Gloriana.

“You will come to no harm in my bed,” Thomas assured as gently as he could. “I promise you that.”

“He’s a man of his word, Gloriana. You can trust him to take care of you, to be gentle in loving you, or to be passionate when you desire it.” Rowan glanced at Thomas, silently acknowledging what happened between them.

She looked curiously at them. “Good friends as well as lord and first knight. You watch each other’s backs. ‘Tis good, that.”

Thomas didn’t want to go deeper into the subject. He merely nodded and then straightened from the desk. “We will say our vows on the morrow.”

Her eyes widened and she sucked in a shallow breath. “As you wish, my lord.”

* * * *

The keep was quiet as Thomas lay awake in his temporary bedchamber. He’d lain in bed for the last hour thinking about tomorrow, about saying marital vows to Gloriana. Uncertainty curled through him. It was clear she’d experienced some manner of abuse from her previous husband. She didn’t truly want another husband, but she had no choice in the matter. He, too, was reluctant to wed again. His first marriage had given him a wife who tolerated him and his physical attentions. They’d been friends of a sort, no more. She had been completely submissive to him, had never questioned him about anything, and had never spoken up for herself.

He stretched and thought about how Gloriana had seemed at first timid, fearful even, but then she’d dared to speak against her brute of a husband. She’d insisted Thomas let her fulfill the normal duties of a lord’s wife: be the chatelaine. He’d agreed, with reservations. She was so slight, appeared so in need of protection. He could easily envision her being taken advantage of, even hurt in some way while trying to tend to her duties. He would not stand for either. He would watch her carefully, and only if she could truly prove herself would he give her free rein in the role.

His thoughts turned to James. It had been far too long since he’d seen his son. In truth, he’d seen very little of his ten-year¬old son. When Sarah had died in childbirth, he’d not even been there. He’d been off battling on behalf of King Edward. His sister and her husband had raised James until now, although he’d made sure James knew he was his father. Now that he planned to settle here at Middlemound and train soldiers for Edward rather than going off to war, it was time to bring James to live with him.

Frowning into the darkness, he wondered if Gloriana was infertile. She’d been married to Stewart two years before the man had gone off to the Crusades. Surely the man had tried to get her with child. He frowned even more. Even though he barely knew her, he hated the idea of Stewart taking her to his bed. He hated thinking about the man known for his cruelty with women driving into her delicate body with no care for her. He would be as gentle as he could with her. Hopefully she would soon find that he could give her great pleasure, and, hopefully, she would free the passion he sensed within her.

His body was too tense now to consider falling asleep. His cock throbbed, demanding attention. For a second, he reached down and stroked the hard rod. But he wasn’t interested in finding relief that way, not when Rowan had settled into a bedchamber at the far end of the hallway.

Thomas pulled on his braies and headed out into the semi-dark hallway. The only light came from torches in holders on the stone wall. He padded barefoot toward the chamber Rowan had claimed. He needed Rowan tonight and hoped Rowan needed him as well.

He hesitated in front of Rowan’s door. What if one of the maids was with him? He’d seen Rowan leading one up here earlier, he’d known what they’d had in mind. It hadn’t bothered Thomas then. Yet he would be disappointed if the young woman was still with Rowan.

The wooden door opened, startling him. Rowan stood naked before him with a slow smile sliding over his face. He motioned Thomas inside.

Relieved, Thomas strode into the chamber. His glance took in the rumpled bed and the candles burning on the bedside tables. He smelled sex in the air and felt a second of jealousy.As it passed, he faced his first knight, the man who had protected his back nearly as many times as Thomas had protected his. He nodded toward the bed. “Mayhap you don’t want…”

“Hell yes, I want!” Rowan countered, sounding almost angry. “I want a good pounding.”

Pleased that this much hadn’t changed, Thomas felt the tension drain from him. “Good.”

Rowan cupped Thomas’s head with his calloused hands and leaned toward him. Their lips met with familiarity. Thomas raised his hands and wove his fingers into Rowan’s chin-length hair, pulled him closer. Heat flared through him, need, demanding in its intensity. He slid his tongue along his lover’s lips until they parted. Then their tongues parried as they’d done so many times before.

Rowan skimmed a palm over Thomas’s bare chest and deepened the kiss. Thomas had kissed many a woman in his years but none kissed with Rowan’s fiery enthusiasm. Rowan took his mouth hungrily, with an almost feverish desperation. Thomas’s cock hardened and pressed between them, throbbing, aching for relief. His balls swelled as the kiss went on. Rowan didn’t give him a chance to catch his breath. Yet somehow his thoughts turned to Gloriana. He recalled her rosebud mouth, the passion that had flashed in her eyes when she’d stood up for herself. Would kissing her be…

Rowan rubbed his lower body against him and commanded his attention. Thomas’s focus returned fully back to the man he’d come to see. His body thrummed with the powerful need for more.

His chest heaving, Rowan pulled his head back. His nostrils flared. “I’ve missed this.” He pushed Thomas’s braies down, enough to free his hard cock. Grinning, Rowan gripped it, worked the pulsing shaft slowly with his strong hand. “I’ve really missed this.”

Thomas groaned. His hips rocking as his cock was pumped repeatedly. Rowan’s other hand cupped Thomas’s balls. He closed his eyes and groaned. “God’s teeth, I’m so hard,” Thomas bit out.

He couldn’t take any more. He shoved Rowan’s hand away before he lost all control. “Now. Right now!”

Rowan grinned, clearly proud of having driven him half mad with need. He turned and walked to the bed. The dim light from the candles teased over Rowan’s toned body, over the taut ass that drew Thomas.

He pumped his dick and watched Rowan settle onto hands and knees. God, he wanted in that ass.

Looking heatedly at him, Rowan wiggled his ass. “I’m ready for that pounding now.”

Thomas moved quickly behind Rowan and took a second to stare down at the butt he so loved. Pre-cum leaked from his cock, making his lover’s eyes widen and making him lick his lips. If they didn’t both need this so desperately, they’d take more time. Thomas would let Rowan lick that cum; let him suck long and hard on his cock. And he’d return the favor before they got down to actually fucking. But he ached to be inside Rowan too much right now.

He coated a finger with the pre-cum before finding Rowan’s puckered anus and sliding his finger inside.

Rowan kept his head turned away, and Thomas watched in fascination and pleasure as his finger disappeared. He gritted his teeth and probed deeper still.

His jaw tight with tension, Rowan craned his head back to look at Thomas. Their gazes locked and Thomas drove a second finger inside as well.

Rowan’s eyes glazed over; his face tightened. “Work me,” he gritted out, shoving back in demand.

Thomas twisted his fingers, pulled them nearly out, and then shoved them deep again. His cock throbbed. He couldn’t do this much longer, or he would shoot off, and he’d rather be buried deep in Rowan’s warm hole when he did.

“Fuck me!” Rowan bent down to rest his head on his forearms. “Pound me into the bed!”

Wanting to do it as much as Rowan wanted him to do it, Thomas guided his thick cockhead into Rowan’s anus. He inched forward, letting his friend adjust. When he heard the quiet moan, felt the release of tension, he thrust all the way inside.

“God, yes!” Rowan squirmed and pushed back. “Do me. Do me now!”

The commanding words served to make Thomas’s cock grow even more. He needed control and he took it, pulling his shaft almost out while Rowan growled in protest. Then he plunged hard, deep. Being surrounded by the tight space felt so good, so warm. He repeated the action and watched Rowan clutch the linens, heard him groaning, straining at the invasion of his ass.

Thomas drove harder and faster. Sweat beaded his upper lip, his chest. His heart thudded as he burned for release. It had been too long, nearly a month, since they’d had the chance to be together like this. He groaned, fought for breath.

“More. Fuck me harder!” Rowan’s body was shuddering, as Rowan moved back and forth, frantic in his desperation.

Thomas’s eyes lost focus and his mind spun. Deeper. Deeper still. He held Rowan’s hips and pumped for several more agonizing minutes. Waves of pleasure pulsed through him. He shifted slightly and the new angle forced a rough, guttural cry from the man beneath him. It ignited the fire within him, building it higher and higher. He couldn’t last much longer. He panted. “Uh, oh God!”

Rowan shoved his ass back at him. “Do it! Now.”

Thomas’s energy was draining away. He couldn’t think about anything beyond finding release. He had to have relief! He tightened his hold on Rowan’s hips and rammed as deep as he could a final time. His breathing stopped as he froze in place with his cock buried to the hilt. Then with a shuddering sigh, he shot his hot seed in Rowan’s tight passage.
They collapsed next to each other as they’d done many times before. Thomas turned to his side. He knew Rowan liked having him watch as he worked his own rod. Thomas watched as Rowan’s hand pulled steadily on his cock. His handsome face was covered in sweat, grimacing in tension. A vein pulsed in the side of his neck. Thomas knew that him watching excited his lover even more, made him stroke the swollen cock faster, made him breathe deeper. In truth, observing his lover do this excited Thomas as well. His limp rod showed signs of interest again, but not enough. The intense fucking had taken the strength out of him for now.

His face pinched in strain, seeming to hold his breath, Rowan finally cried out almost as if in pain. Thick ropes of cum shot upward and then glazed over his hand. After a second he closed his eyes and drew in a long calming breath.

When Rowan finally settled back to the moment, Thomas leaned over and kissed him tenderly. As their lips met, he thought, again, about Gloriana. Was he being fair to her by marrying her? Was he being fair to Rowan? What he and Rowan did was unnatural by society’s eyes, but necessary to both of them. As lord of a substantial holding, he was expected to have a wife. The people of Middlemound expected him to wed their lady. He would do so. But what about Rowan? Could they keep the relationship they had? What would Gloriana do if she ever learned of it?

“I’m thinking you’re a lucky man to wed her,” Rowan said, interrupting Thomas’s troubled thoughts. “I saw the fire that burns within her, just as you did.”

Thomas wondered about his friend’s comment, and he remembered the odd look he’d caught as Rowan watched Gloriana at sup. They’d have to talk about her later, but now he was tired. Tomorrow would be a long day, a trying one.

“I do not want to hurt her.” Thomas climbed from the bed and pulled on his braies.

“You won’t.” Rowan sat up and looked seriously at him. “She will be lucky to have you in her life.”

“I can’t give you up.” Thomas noted how Rowan’s gaze had settled on his chest, shifted lower. If he didn’t leave the chamber now, he might end up staying here the night. Already his cock was showing more determined life again.

“Nor I, you,” Rowan released a tense breath. “’Tis best you leave while you can.”

Thomas nodded and walked to the door. He glanced back at his lover, but Rowan’s eyes were closed. His brow furrowed in thought. “We’ll make this work. Somehow.”