The Tempest: A Guy of Gisborne Story Read online

  They were both struggling to breathe. Even when the violent beating of their hearts ceased, and he reluctantly withdrew from her, he didn’t release her from his arms. Instead he rolled to his back and took her with him, delighting in the feel of her slight weight on his chest. Their skin was covered with a fine sheen of sweat, their breathing still rapid…and he felt his eyelids grow heavy from exhaustion. As he fell asleep he clung to her, hoping that when he woke she would still be there.

  *****

  Sometime later he stirred. Opening his eyes he found, much to his relief and pleasure, that she was still pressed against his body. Her legs were entwined with his…her arms still around him. Her hair cascaded over him in fabulous display as she slept. And just looking at her so displayed, it made him want her all over again.

  He grinned slightly at the thought that having her once or twice wasn’t near to being enough. He could not remember when he’d so fiercely desired a woman…not even Marian.

  Lord, he’d been such a fool over her. A complete and utter fool, he now realized. Months ago, he would never have fathomed wanting someone else. He had sought her relentlessly, blindly and stupidly believing that in time, she would grow to care for him. Desperate, lonely fool that he had been, it had not mattered to him that at times, an expression of loathing had crossed her features. She’d never wanted him.

  But Cassia did.

  I do not want to lose you, she’d said.

  It sent a fierce wave of possessiveness through him, as he realized that he didn’t want to lose her either. She had talked of being his mistress, and then she’d given herself to him in the most powerful way. As far as he was concerned, she now belonged to him body and soul. Never had he felt such want…such insatiable craving for another human being. He recalled how, at one time, he’d thought so little of her…that she would be nothing more than another convenient fling. But now, he knew what a fool he’d been to think of her so. Now that he’d discovered her, he felt he’d found a priceless treasure…and he had no intention of giving her up.

  He heard her make a soft sound. It seemed to be a murmur of contentment, and he lazily ran his hands over her shoulders. His fingers roamed her beautifully tapered back and her sides, stroking her soft, warm skin. She lifted her head, looking at him with those beautiful, shining dark eyes…eyesv hld a power over him that he willingly succumbed to. He leaned in to claim her mouth, threading her soft hair through his fingers. As the kiss grew deeper, his entire being sprang to life with anticipation. His breath quickened…his blood pulsed madly.

  But then she tried to break away. Bereft at the notion of losing contact with her, he tried to pull her back, but he felt her hands pushing him away.

  They had hardly said a word until now, talking being the least of their mutual desires. But as she removed herself from his arms, slipping away from him to reach for her clothing, he could not be silent. He reached out his hand, intent on bringing her back, but her movements were too swift. The silken texture of her leg was all that he managed to touch before she slipped completely out of his reach.

  “Why are you going so soon?”

  He watched, disillusioned as she slipped into her linen shift. She eased the mood slightly by coming back for a moment to kiss him, and from the joyful little sound she made, it was clear to him that she wasn’t so willing to part from him yet. It thrilled him to know that she had no regrets…that she was just as needy as he was. Eagerly his hands moved over her soft body, feeling her warmth through the thin garment. He clenched the material in his fists, wishing to tear it away so there would be no impediments between them. When she tried to stay his hands he resisted, groaning his protest.

  “You cannot leave me now.”

  He kissed her neck, tenderly nibbling the soft skin. Her arms went around him in response, and he chuckled triumphantly, certain that he’d won…until she pushed at his shoulders, telling him that he must cease. He tried not to hear her, but she pushed even more strongly against him.

  “I must return,” she insisted. “If my father wakes and finds us both gone, he will surely know what has transpired.”

  His first thought was a curse. Who gives a damn about your father?

  But even in the madness of wanting her, he managed enough of his sense to keep himself silent, at least where the subject of her father was concerned. He also knew she was right…that if they stayed here much longer, their risk of discovery would be great, and that was a dangerous game to play.

  He pressed his lips to the base of her throat, trying to draw out one last moment of pleasure. When she tried again to withdraw from his arms, he let her go, though he could not help scowling at the loss of her sweet flesh.

  Reluctantly he reached for his own clothes. Pulling them on, he looked at her as she tied the laces of her dress and bound her sash around her waist. He was transfixed as he watched her running her fingers through her hair, picking out the stray pieces of straw. There was something intoxicating about the sight. Perhaps it was the thought of how glorious that soft mane of hair felt in his hands, or the remembrance of how her touch could so easily ignite the fire in him. As she stepped towards the doorway he reached out for her, pulling her back into his arms, bringing his mouth down to hers to kiss her fiercely. She clung tigt to him and kissed him back, her mouth as demanding as his, and in moments they were breathless, struggling to remain upright. He didn’t know how she had the strength to do so, but she managed to pull away. They were both breathing hectically, and his words were heavy with lust.

  “When will I have you again?”

  She shook her head, and her own voice was thick.

  “Soon, I pray. But not here.”

  There was a certain sadness in her tone that made him almost fearful. He dreaded now to hear what she would say.

  “You cannot remain here. Not after this.”

  He shook his head in denial. “Why must I go?” The thought of leaving her now, after what had just occurred, was too much to comprehend. He held fast to her, his nose buried against the softness of her neck. But she was insistent.

  “I cannot risk discovery. And if you were to stay, we would surely be found out. To remain so close, yet knowing we cannot be together…it is a chance I cannot take.”

  She suddenly rose on the tips of her toes so she might reach him better, her fingers rough against his scalp as she kissed him feverishly. Then she parted from him, her voice soft and breathless.

  “You must go. Before my father wakes.”

  He leaned his head against hers, wondering how he would ever manage to depart. Now that he’d had a taste of her, he hungered for so much more. She felt so warm, so inviting. His body tensed in frustration when she said, almost in a sad way…

  “I will bring your things to you now. Tis’ wiser if you do not go in.”

  He saw how she lowered her eyes as she spoke…as if the notion of his leaving was deeply painful to her. Then she was gone from his arms, headed back into the house to fetch his things…to send him away.

  He found his horse in the stall and brought him out. As he saddled the stallion, he paused several times…rage and frustration taking over him. To be denied, especially in this way, was something he was not accustomed to. For as long as he could remember, he’d demanded things and had his wishes met. With the exception of Marian, he’d never had to bide his time when it came to having what he wanted.

  And he wanted Cassia.

  The notion of going felt like a noose tightening around his neck. For some time now, as he’d gradually improved in health, the notion of his departure had been a growing thought in his mind. But he’d kept pushing the thought aside, thinking that behind the end of each day was another day. He’d convinced himself that he would have sufficient time to adjust, and when the moment came to return to his old life, he would be ready.

  But how could he have known it would be this way? So abrupt…and so unwelcome.

  He suddenly thought of the great transition he would now have ake, be
ing thrust back into his former existence. And the thought of it was punctuated by one great burning question…

  What was there to return to?

  As Cassia had once reminded him…the Sheriff saw no real value in him. Briwere would likely use the return of his Master at Arms to his own advantage. There would be no warm welcome…not from Briwere, not from soldiers or servants, and certainly not from anyone else in the village. There was but one person in the world who gave a damn about him.

  And here he was, being forced to walk away from her. It was painfully unjust…and it made him angry.

  He wanted to refuse. What was there to keep him from having his way? The answer came fast upon him.

  Cassia.

  She had succumbed to him this once. But she was so strong of mind and spirit that if she chose to, she could make herself be ice and rock to him. When it came to her father, she was fiercely loyal…so much so that in order to protect him, she would deny herself what she wanted. And she would not give herself willingly again…not unless she had her sense of security about her.

  They had made a bargain, and she would not let him renege on it. And to keep his vow, he would have to return to Nottingham right away. He would have to reclaim his place with the Sheriff…take back his own wealth and power. Only then could he give Cassia what she desired…and only then could he have her completely for his own.

  Leading his horse from the barn, he looked up to see her coming, carrying all of his possessions. She came to him in silence, and neither of them spoke as he was prepared for his departure. She fastened the cloak around his shoulders, and adjusted his sword belt around his waist. She helped to ease his feet into his boots, being careful with his ankle that was still in need of attention. He saw how she avoided looking at him, and he knew what she was feeling…what she was thinking. She did not want him to go. She was pained by the thought of his leaving. And the idea that someone would long for him…that he would be missed…was a powerful and overwhelming realization. He reached out and pulled her close, taking her face in his hands. He placed a hot kiss on her lips, speaking in a deep, ragged breath.

  “I will come back for you, Cassia. You are mine now, and I will have you again.”

  He turned away, unable to remain a moment more without giving in to the temptation of her. With some trouble he mounted his horse, the pain in his ankle now throbbing with the pressure from his boot. But no longer would there be someone to tend to it…at least, not anyone he wanted. He was certain there would be some servant he could command, but there would not be the special touch of gentleness that Cassia possessed. He would have to endure without her…and he knew it was just one of many troubles he would have to face in the days ahead.

  He rode towards Nottingham. Several times he brought his horse to a pause, turning to look back over his shoulder…only to force himself to turn around and go on. And as he went, he could not help but long for everything he had let behind.

  *****

  Her father still slept. It was her one consolation as she stood within the silent house...the silent, empty house. Tears filled her eyes as she wandered into Guy’s room. Even on the bad days…days when he had been the worst of devils…she had always come into this room with the anticipation of seeing him. His presence, however dark, had given her a purpose in life. In all the times she had wished him away, she had not meant it truly. And now that he was really gone, it felt as if a part of her was missing.

  Going to the empty bed, she brushed her fingers over the pillow that had cradled his head…the blanket that had covered him. Both were still warm, if only slightly. Soon they would grow cold. His scent would fade away as well, leaving her with only her memories of him…of what they had shared, and of what he had promised her. And she could only hope that he would be a man of his word.

  Chapter 11

  “Well, well. Tis’ not yuletide, and yet it seems we have a miracle before us. Welcome back, Gisborne.”

  Guy was silent, his head bowed in obedience as he stood before the Sheriff. Briwere, still in his night robe, walked back and forth in front on the fire in his chamber hearth.

  “So,” he said. “You did not perish with your men, after all? You have taken leave these last two months, have you?”

  Guy shok his head. “No, my lord. I was incapacitated. But due to the efforts of Samaritans, I am able to return now to my duty.”

  The Sheriff looked at him with great interest. “So, that drunken fool of a guard was not mistaken, then. He did see his former master in the flesh. I suppose I dispatched him a bit too quickly.”

  Despite his words, there was no hint of regret was in his tone. He stopped suddenly, looking at Guy with a curious expression.

  “Samaritans, Gisborne? Who were they?”

  There was a long moment as Guy thought of how to respond. And knowing Briwere as he did, he chose his answer carefully.

  “No one of consequence.”

  There would be no further explanation…at least none that he would give willingly. Cassia and Robert might have been lowly peasants, but they had given him his life. And he would not endanger theirs now by revealing their existence. It was his hope that Briwere would ask no further questions of how he came to be here…and that, as it turned out, was just what happened.

  “Well then, Sir Guy,” he said with a bit of glee, tapping his fingers together as the wheels turned in his head. “It seems you may finally be of real use to me. I have just had the most brilliant of thoughts. When the brainless peasants of this village see you have returned, they will no doubt believe that the devil has risen to haunt them. We must make the most of their superstitious ignorance.”

  Guy gave him a curious look. “My lord?”

  Briwere chuckled. “When you were believed dead, your home was in my hands of course, to do with as I wished. I fully intended to install a new tenant there. But it remains unoccupied…and the reason for that? There was a great belief that your ghost roamed the corridors.”

  Guy shook his head slightly, not seeing the point. “I am afraid I do not understand, my lord.”

  Briwere waved a hand, rambling on and continuing to speak as if Guy were not even there. It seemed he was quite enjoying the vocalization of his strange train of thought…and while the Sheriff’s back was turned for a moment, Guy gave an irritated shift of his eyes.

  “Oh you shall have your home back, Gisborne. You will need new servants, but that is for you to see to. What I am interested in is the fear your presence shall bring. Because you see, fear keeps the ignorant in their place. And that is what these people need…to always be reminded of their lowliness, and of who their masters are.”

  As if they are not well aware of it, Guy thought. But feeling that it was not his place to question why, he said nothing. In truth, whatever ridiculous plotting Briwere had in mind, Guy knew his own opinion of it did not matter. He was back in the hands of his lord and master.

  A pawn in a mad game.

  He recalled those words so clearly. She had been so apt in her description, one that spelled out in bold letters just what he was to his betters.

  And there was nothing he could do to change it.

  *****

  Guy of Gisborne was back from the dead.

  That was the news that swept like wildfire through Nottingham, and many villagers truly believed he was a walking demon. According to whispers, he had appeared like a phantom in the night, demanding to see the Sheriff and terrifying all those who came across him.

  Guy found himself the leader of nocturnal raids upon the village residents. Barging in with torches in their hands, the guards pulled people from their beds in the dead of night and forced them to kneel before Gisborne, whom they looked upon with absolute terror. Many had taken to wearing small makeshift crosses around their necks in the hopes of warding off his evil presence. Their cries of mercy, pleading for their immortal souls, fell on deaf ears. It was his feeling that if they were ignorant enough to believe in such nonsense, they deserved what
they got.

  Briwere was quite pleased with his strange game of intimidation. He had his favorite henchman back to do his dirty work, and he reveled in it…although he could not help but notice Guy’s lack of interest.

  One afternoon, only a few days after his return, they stood watching an execution, and Briwere saw how Guy turned his head away. At the gallows, a dark-haired young woman and her family were being put to death. Looking from them to Gisborne, Briwere snorted in disgust at Guy’s obvious discomfort.

  “What is the matter with you, Gisborne? Does the wench remind you of your deceitful former fiancé? Will you weep like a fool for her for the remainder of your useless life?”

  There was no reply. And Briwere had no way of knowing…it wasn’t Marian that Guy was thinking of.

  *****

  He was home at last.

  After several weeks residing in a room at the castle, waiting for the manor to be made ready, he was finally back on his own grounds…back to his own life. Chenivier had been his residence for many years, and he had feared the loss of it as a result of his absence. But for once, his reputation seemed to have been an aide rather than a hinderance.

  Dismounting from his horse, handing it off to the groom, he made his way inside. All of the servants…some of them familiar, some of them not…had assembled in greeting. They bowed in obedient submission. But he had no desire to speak to them, except to make an inquiry to his housekeeper.