Catherine Archer - Velvet Touch

If Grandmother had taken note of her sinful preoccupation with Stephen Clayburn then mayhap he had, too. So ashamed was Fellis that she could not even bring herself to glance in his direction for fear he might be watching her. At best, pitying her, at worst, contemptuous of her.

Hurriedly she reached to pull the bed covers up over her grandmother’s slight frame. Grandmother was often cold now and Fellis did not want her to catch a chill. She took her usual tender care in making the elderly lady settled.

Once Grandmother was settled on her pillows comfortably, Fellis reached forward to smooth her hand over the skin of her forehead, which was fine as onion skin. Myrian closed her eyes and gave a tired sigh. Gently Fellis asked, “Are you well, Grandmother?”

“Just a little tired, dear.”

Fellis felt Stephen move from her side. Her emotions were a mix of relief and, unbelievably, regret, but she did not glance up.

Only when Grandmother opened her eyes and observed Stephen, where he now stood beside Mary Grayson near the doorway, did she allow herself to look at him. “You have my thanks, sir,” the old woman said.

Fellis was surprised to see him give what appeared to be a start.

But if the reaction had been what she thought, he recovered quickly and nodded his head politely. “And you are most welcome, dear lady. I can only say that you have my thanks for allowing me to occupy your own chamber. ’Tis a most gracious sacrifice. I beg you excuse me now until I see you again.”

With that, he turned and left the chamber before more could be said. Lady Mary hurried after him and Fellis could only assume that her mother meant to see the knight settled in his room. Though she did not want him here, Mother would not offer insult in the hospitality she extended to the messenger of King Edward.

Busily, Fellis moved to the end of the bed so as not to think any further on Stephen Clayburn and how he had affected her. She reached for the extra cover that lay there. “Are you warm enough, Grandmother?”

“Oh, yes, indeed. You have shown great care for my comfort, dearling, as you always do. I think I will just have a bit of rest now.”

Fellis could hear the weariness in her tone. Her grandmother had suffered with a bout of lung fever during the winter and was still weak and frail from the illness. She tired easily and needed a great deal of rest. They were all grateful to the good Lord for her recovery, though Fellis knew they must still have fear for her.

Saying no more, she took up her book of prayer to read while her grandmother drifted off to sleep.

But the familiar words on the page could not hold her this day. It was a pair of deep green eyes that lingered in her mind, making her very aware of the fact that for some time Stephen Clayburn would be a guest in this very keep.

How was she ever to bear it? Not only had he come here thinking he could arrange a marriage between her and her father’s enemy, he had offered insult by saying Wynn had no right to repudiate such as she even if she was not a worthy bride.

There was no reason for anyone to remind her of her shortcomings. Fellis was not like to forget them even for a moment.

Her traitorous thoughts tangled on. Why then, if he felt that way about her had he looked at her that way when they first met—so…as if, oh heaven, as if he were hungry. Looked at her as he had only minutes ago in this very same room.

For those instants when his eyes had met hers something strange had seemed to pass between them, a feeling that made her belly tighten, a yearning to touch and be touched.

It made no sense. And even if the man had not made cruel reference to her defect, he would have no personal interest in her.

The knight had come here with the preposterous notion of seeing her wed to none other than Wynn ap Dafydd. Fellis had not so much as laid eyes upon the man. And he was their sworn enemy. She knew her father would not approve of such a match. Even if Richard Grayson could be convinced, there was no chance of such a thing taking place.

Her mother would not allow a marriage, was Wynn the most acceptable of suitors. Her plans for Fellis did not in any way include marriage and—it was hard for Fellis to even think the word without regret—children.

Resolutely she shook her head on her pain. Such was not for her. She knew her duty and would do it.

Stephen Clayburn and his schemes could mean nothing to her.

Stephen allowed Lady Mary to lead him to the chamber from whence he had just taken the grandmother, without really hearing most of what she said. So preoccupied was he with thoughts of her daughter and his own guilt at having hurt her, that he was not affected by her disregard of him or even aware if she continued to display it.

Inside the chamber, Lady Mary halted, turning to face him.

Focusing his attention on his hostess, the knight learned that he would be expected to attend meals in the hall with the other castle folk, unless he gave instructions to the contrary.

Muttering that he would be happy to share his meals with them and that he would require no special care, Stephen watched the door close behind her with relief.

He could not stop thinking that, though he had not meant to offend Fellis Grayson, it was his responsibility to set the matter aright.

The naked sadness in her eyes had near done him in. But there had been no opportunity to explain himself in her room. And if truth be told, he’d been too overcome by his own reactions to her beauty to think of trying.

He threw himself down upon the bed, his hand across his eyes as he remembered it was what had come afterward that really unnerved him.

As he had watched her tenderly caring for her elderly grandmother, Stephen had been assaulted by images of Fellis nude, the clear vision of her burned in his mind for all time. He’d thought of her soft slender hands smoothing over his flesh as he lay gasping beneath her.

The image had been so real and vivid that he was unable to stop the immediate rush of heat in his loins. Only the fact that his pourpoint covered his arousal kept him from completely embarrassing himself.

Dear Lord, he groaned. What was he to do with himself? He was a man full grown, well past the time when he had gained authority over his body. And never, he had to admit, however reluctantly, had he known such a reaction, even as an unschooled lad.

But somehow he must wrest control of this madness. He knew why he had come here, and it had naught to do with becoming obsessed with the baron’s daughter.

For the good of himself and his mission, Stephen knew he would need attain enough mastery over this situation to carry on with his duties. It was imperative that he at least make contact with the girl and so obtain her acceptance of the way things must be. ’Twould help him immensely in gaining his ends.

Firstly he must certainly explain about what he had said in the hall There was little hope of convincing her of anything if he did not try to ease that expression of pain in her eyes.

Stephen sat up, a scowl of determination on his face. How he would persuade her he had no notion, but do it he would.

He refused to acknowledge the voice inside him that told him he had more private reasons for wanting to see the hurt disappear.

It was that very afternoon that his opportunity arose. He had taken the noon meal without seeing even one member of the family. This was a sure indication of their continued discomfort with the idea he had presented them.

He was not concerned about this though. Given time, Lord Grayson would see what must happen. He simply needed an opportunity to adjust.

After the meal, Stephen decided to take a walk about the grounds as he was loath to spend one more moment in his chamber. Never one to enjoy too much leisure, Stephen had paced the chamber’s every inch in the hours he’d spent there during the morning.