“Trust no one but yourself,” her father had said, over and over.
“But I can trust you,” she had always argued with him.
“I will not always be with you, Elara.”
And he’d not been, for far too long. She wished to see him. To share all she’d done, and learned, with him. But first, Elara needed to ensure she, and her father, remained safe.
“I do not,” she lied. “But will devise a plan.” Wishing she’d not shared her thoughts aloud, Elara moved on, asking additional questions, listening to their theories.
When the meal ended, Elara left Ashford’s hall, watching Gareth and Evelina, which reminded her of Alden. He would not be coming to her that eve. She had told him about Ashford Manor at the end of the lesson, emphasizing, since he was with Darien, that she expected to be here much of the evening.
She’d gone many nights without speaking to him, without Alden’s touch. Despite it, the ride back to Castle Blackwood was a particularly dreary one. When they entered the castle gates and it began to rain, Elara was not surprised. Even the heavens agreed with her and responded in kind.
By the time she made her way to her chamber, Elara was soaking wet. But no sooner did she close her chamber door than Elara heard a knock in the antechamber, behind the tapestry.
He’d come to her after all.
Chapter
Fifteen
Darien thought him mad, and maybe he was. Having left the barracks when he did, well after most of the men returned for the evening, was not without risk of being questioned. On the other hand, Alden could not resist.
He had to see her.
“What are you—”
Shutting the door behind him, Alden reached for her. Elara had clearly been caught in the rain on the way back from Ashford Manor.
Pulling her into him, Alden brought his lips to hers. She immediately opened for him, and he took all that Elara gave him. Their mouths fused, tongues tangled. His shirt was already wet from how closely their bodies pressed against each other.
His need for her overwhelmed every other thought. Alden had said he would possess her, and that thought had driven him to this moment. All day he imagined breaking down the barriers she erected for everyone.
Unfastening the brooch at her throat, Alden tossed it, along with Elara’s cloak, aside. He loosened the ties at the front of her surcoat as their kisses deepened. The soft sounds she made encouraging him, Alden paused for a moment, kissing her deeply, and then broke away.
With a quick glance to be certain she wanted this, he reached down and pulled the wet surcoat over her head. From there, he moved quickly. Unlacing more ties, he allowed the bliaut to slide off her shoulders and down her body, with his assistance.
“You are undressing me,” she said, though the words were hardly necessary.
“You are wet,” he said, staring down at her linen chemise. It was the only thing keeping her from view. Knowing it would be difficult to stop once that happened, Alden knelt before her instead.
“After I remove these boots,” he said as he began to unlace the first one, “I plan to take off that chemise next. If I do . . .” He looked up at her. “You will be mine, Elara.”
“You mean to take my virginity?”
Dear lord, the very thought of it. “Nay. You will marry a nobleman, a man with title and land, things I cannot give you. I’d not take that away from you.”
“How, then, will I be yours?”
He tossed her first boot aside and went to work on the second one. “I will carry you into your bedchamber and worship your body in every other way imaginable. I will know you like none have ever done before me, and only the man you marry will know after I am long gone from here.”
Alden hated—hated—the fact that he could not be that man. If he were born a nobleman instead of a blacksmith’s son, he would have offered for this woman on that very first day. Drawn to her, consumed by her, Alden would give anything to be such a man.
Alas, wishing and hoping for something so out of reach was futile. But until then, while they were here together, she would be his. As completely as she could be.
“I’m yours.”
He tossed the second boot and stood.