The Thief's Countess (Border Series Book 1) Read online

  Hot, ready, willing.

  Reluctantly, he raised his head. How far should he let this go? He would have ripped her gown in two, thrown her on the bed, and ravished her luxurious body if she’d wanted it. If he hadn’t known it would ruin them both. Instead he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss, thrusting his tongue inside, showing Sara—

  There was a loud crash in the hall.

  They risked being exposed. Acting immediately, he ran to the door, only looking back once as Sara lifted her gown to cover her breast.

  Sara was stunned, immobile. Adjusting her gown as much as possible with loose laces, she finally found her legs and walked toward the door. Although she should care more about the source of the noise, Sara was more concerned with whether Geoffrey’s presence in her chamber would be discovered.

  The implications hit her as surely as a bucket of ice-cold water. She had been prepared to give herself to a man she’d known mere days. Her cheeks flushed with mortification as she made her way to the door, inched it open, and peered down the hall.

  Nothing.

  She didn’t dare enter the hall in her current state of disarray. Moments after she peeked her head into the hall, Geoffrey turned the corner with one of her men-at-arms on his heels.

  “Did the noise wake you, Lady Sara?” he inquired.

  “Nay, Sir Geoffrey,” she said, catching on quickly, “I was just preparing for bed. What has happened?”

  Waving away the guard, Geoffrey leaned toward the door and whispered, his face so close she could feel his breath on her ear, “The guard was being relieved and lost his sword to the stairs below.”

  “He saw nothing?”

  She could tell he wanted to touch her, and though it was wrong, she desperately wanted him to enter her bedchamber and continue where he’d left off.

  But the spell had been broken, and Sara saw the intrusion for what it was … a blessing in disguise.

  “Nay.”

  They stood for a moment longer, neither willing to be the first to relent, both understanding the enormity of the mistake they had very nearly made.

  “Sara…”

  “Geoffrey…”

  Geoffrey looked over his shoulder, then turned to touch her, a brief stroke of her cheek before he walked away.

  It was for the best.

  Closing the heavy wooden door and leaning against it, Sara looked down at the state of her gown and tried unsuccessfully to slow her racing heartbeat. Could she learn to control herself around Geoffrey? She would need to if he was to continue guarding her.

  She’d do well to take Geoffrey’s own advice and remember the kind of man she was dealing with. He was used to taking what wasn’t his, and she certainly fell into that category. She was a leader now, and it was about time to start acting like one.

  9

  The day after Geoffrey nearly took Sara’s innocence—surely it wouldn’t have gone that far—he gladly bid farewell to Lord Thornhurst. William saw fit to wholeheartedly return Sara’s embrace after accepting a basket of food for his journey.

  “‘Tis unnecessary, little lass. I’m used to traveling with much less.”

  Rolling his eyes, Geoffrey would have walked away had he trusted the overly familiar lord with Sara’s person.

  Inclining his head for Geoffrey to follow, William finally mounted his destrier. Geoffrey stared at the magnificent creature. He could buy much needed support with the coin from such an animal, even without its armor. An unwanted image of his own war horse, a gift from his father after he was knighted, invaded his thoughts.

  He would get it, and Bristol Manor, back.

  “Ride with me, Sir Geoffrey.”

  Already irritated, he didn’t bother being polite. “I don’t take orders, Thornhurst.”

  Geoffrey only relented when nudged by his uncle, who had remained silent during the exchange. He’d regret his sharp tongue when Hugh got ahold of him later.

  “I will look after Lady Sara, my son,” Hugh said.

  The endearment softened him slightly. Likely his uncle’s intention. Geoffrey gave William a sharp nod and made for the stables. At least it would give him a brief reprieve from his beautiful tormentor.

  “It seems a reminder of our discussion is in order?” William said, his tone firm, a few moments later as they rode side by side away from the castle. There was no sign of the smiling, amicable knight he was with Sara.

  “I’ve never had a lady’s maid, Thornhurst, and don’t have a need for one now.”

  William grimaced. “You’ve been at Kenshire just a few days,” he said. “I was raised here and have a vested interest in its people.”

  “Point taken. But I’ll thank you to remember I’m not here by choice.”

  “Maybe so, but here you are. And you’ll never meet a more honorable woman than Lady Sara. I ask you, one knight to another, to leave her as such.”

  He’d prefer not to hear his own thoughts uttered aloud to him by the gallant knight.

  “Call me a reiver, a thief. I won’t dispute it,” he said. “But I’ve never taken a lady against her will in my life. Nor have I ever deflowered a virgin.”

  “How honorable.”

  “Did you ask me to ride with you so you could chastise me like you would a child? If so, I bid you a good day.”

  William switched topics, his point apparently made. “I spoke with your uncle at length last eve after you escorted the lady to the village.”

  He was becoming impatient with the censure he heard in Thornhurst’s voice.

  “And?”

  “He told me a bit more about you.”

  “Is that so?” He didn’t bother to hide his impatience. “Get to the point, and quickly.”

  “Are you always so prickly?”

  Not usually. Although not quite as carefree as his youngest brother, he was usually less uptight than this, even in the middle of battle. It was his trademark, an ability to lighten the mood despite the intensity of a situation. He usually left the sullenness to Bryce.

  Instead of admitting as much, he answered, “When being interrogated, yes.”

  “As I told your uncle last eve, if there’s any way I can help reclaim your lands, you have only to ask.”

  It was the last thing Geoffrey had expected to hear.

  “Why?” He no longer considered Lord Thornhurst a potential adversary, mostly because he was leaving—and because the lady did not seem to return his affections—but he was certainly no ally. Why would he offer to help a reiver reclaim his birthright along the tumultuous border?

  “As repayment of your services to Kenshire.”

  There was a long pause as Geoffrey stared at Thornhurst, unable to understand what he was hearing.

  “Sir Geoffrey, help Lady Sara secure her claim, and I’ll do everything in my power to help you take back what the Kerrs stole from you.”

  With that, Thornhurst spurred his horse forward, leaving Geoffrey to stare after him. What he hadn’t said was that Sara’s claim would only be secured by her marriage to Lyonsford. As if Geoffrey needed another reason to stay away from the Lady of Kenshire.

  For the next two days, he fell into a routine, trailing Sara while she visited tenants and settled disputes, keeping his distance as much as possible. Other ladies in her position might idle their time away with court gossip, but Sara was obviously accustomed to the duties required to manage an estate.

  Despite his determination to stay away from Lady Sara, his interest in her only grew.

  Sara could not concentrate.

  Although her father had prepared her to run an estate, she’d had no mother to teach her about such things as desire. She thought back to the first kiss she had shared with Geoffrey and nearly laughed aloud at her naiveté. That was nothing compared with the way his mouth had felt along her neck, and—she was embarrassed to even remember it—her breast. For three days, she had thought of little else.

  She wondered what might have happened if they weren’t interrupted. Picturing every car
ess, she could almost feel his tongue claim hers. The memories assaulted her everywhere she went, and she found herself thinking about him again—his touch, his taste—when she met with Peter in the solar to sift through reports on taxes and rents.

  Perhaps sensing her distraction, Peter leaned across the massive desk, taking a list of villagers’ rents from the pile of parchments in front of them. “Lady Sara, ‘tis my job to see to these. There’s no need for you to be here.”

  Shaking her head, Sara repeated a phrase she’d often heard from her father. “If it’s a part of Kenshire, it’s a part of me.”

  She took the list from him, trying but failing to concentrate on its contents.

  Sara was eager for a break from the tedious task by the time Sir Hugh appeared at the door.

  “‘Tis easy to find you, Lady Sara,” he said, “I just have to look for the hulking form of my nephew. You’re never far behind.”

  Sara stood and glanced to where Geoffrey waited for her outside. No one was more keenly aware of his presence than she.

  “I’d like to speak with you, milady.”

  Peter indicated for Hugh to sit in the rich yet sparsely furnished room and then excused himself.

  “I apologize for my absence these last few days,” Hugh said. “We’ve been working hard to strengthen fortifications on the gatehouse.”

  Sir Hugh worked closely with Gerald de Winters, the castle constable, since he’d arrived.

  “I know, Sir Hugh. I inspected the progress myself yesterday. Gerald told me you took a garrison to Dumridge for supplies.”

  “I hope you don’t think my father remiss for failing to do so himself,” she said, feeling the need to defend her father. “He knew it was necessary work, but his concentration was elsewhere.”

  She looked down at her simple but elegant surcoat, a blue so deep it appeared almost black. Too much like the mourning clothes she despised.

  “That is what I’d like to speak with you about, milady. My relationship with your father.” He paused. “I planned to speak with you the night of the birthing, and since then, I’ve been preoccupied by our preparations for Randolf.”

  “Please, no apologies. The men respect your knowledge, and I’m grateful for your help.”

  Sara wasn’t too stubborn to acknowledge how much her opinion had changed in one short week. While she was anxious to hear what Sir Hugh had to say, she spoke the truth. The men with whom he worked spoke highly of his experience, which only deepened the mystery. How did a man without a home know so much about castle fortifications?

  He nodded in acknowledgement, then said, “When I was a young lad, your father and I met at the first Day of Truce. I’d recently received my spurs from my elder brother, Geoffrey’s father.”

  She felt a flutter deep inside her belly. It wasn’t at all what she had expected to hear. Geoffrey’s father had been a lord?

  She couldn’t hide her shock.

  “Aye, my brother was a baron. He inherited Bristol Manor from our father.” Frowning, he continued, “But that’s a different story for another time.”

  Her head started spinning. A baron? But why were they reivers?

  “Your grandfather negotiated the first Day of Truce in an attempt to find peace with the Scottish border clans. It was as tense then as it is now, and there was a murder attempt on your father.”

  “You saved his life.”

  A grin spread across his face.

  “I did.”

  She had so many questions, but she held her tongue, deciding to let him speak first.

  “Afterwards, we became very close friends.” Hugh paused as Sara stared at him. Her father’s savior. A noble family! It explained their grooming. And manners. Or Sir Hugh’s manners, at least.

  “Two and a half years after that day, Richard visited Bristol on an extended visit. While he was there, we were raided by Clan Kerr. Living so close to the border, raids weren’t uncommon, but this particular time they were bolder than usual, driven by desperation to replenish their stores before the coming winter. It was during that raid your father saved my life. I’ll spare you the gruesome details, but without his assistance, there’s no doubt that raid would have been my last.”

  It made sense that such a thing would create a strong bond between two men, but she still had so many questions.

  “Why did no one tell me earlier? Surely Peter must have known.”

  “Aye, I’ve visited Kenshire many times before duties kept me closer to the border. When we arrived, Peter instructed us to remain quiet.”

  “Why would he do such a thing?”

  “It was at your father’s request.”

  Of course. She should have guessed it immediately. A final lesson about acceptance, and one she would not soon forget.

  “And the raid. Is that when you lost Bristol Manor?” She didn’t want to pry, but she needed to understand.

  Hugh sighed, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

  “Nay. That happened years later, after Geoffrey and his siblings were born. I saw Richard less after he married. As the steward of Bristol, my duties kept me closer to home.”

  Sara’s eyes shot to the doorway, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Geoffrey could hear his uncle’s tale.

  “Life on the border was difficult, but Bristol Manor was our ancestral home. Though it was firmly English territory at that time, our land has been disputed by the Scots for as long as I can remember.”

  Perhaps the extreme measures her father had taken for her safety were warranted. She had assumed her father was just overprotective, that he didn’t completely trust her to make the right decisions. Maybe he had simply recognized the very real danger of the border.

  “Out of desperation, Clan Kerr’s raids became more frequent and violent. One day, with the support of another lowland clan…”

  His eyes were filled with pain, and while she wondered if she should stop him from continuing, he did not give her the chance.

  “Bristol was devastated. I had taken Geoffrey and his siblings to a nearby village to visit a traveling market. My wife and I were never able to have children, so my niece and nephews are like my own. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them.”

  Hugh stopped again. As much as she wanted to hear the rest of his story, she was almost afraid for him to continue. She wanted to comfort the man who had been a friend to her father. A second father to Geoffrey. She had started to stand when another voice cut in, finishing Sir Hugh’s story.

  “My parents were killed. This time it was no raid but a battle for Bristol, and the Scottish bastards won.”

  Both she and Hugh looked up at Geoffrey, who walked into the room and settled a hand on his uncle’s shoulder. Emotion welled inside of her as she looked into Geoffrey’s eyes. She knew what it was like to live without a parent, the overwhelming despair of having a loved one taken too early, but to have one’s parents and one’s home taken in the same afternoon? Words seemed inadequate.

  Feeling like she had intruded on a private family matter, she forced her gaze down to her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said. It was all she could say. Why hadn’t Geoffrey told her all this sooner? Why had he let her think the worst of him?

  Hugh stood, clapping Geoffrey on the back and turning to Sara.

  “Thank you,” he said. As if he heard her silent question, he continued. “As you can imagine, it’s a tale I’m reluctant to relive. But you deserve to know who you invited into your home.”

  With that, he winked and walked away, leaving her alone with Geoffrey.

  Everything had changed.

  Geoffrey had taken his uncle’s chair, as if realizing Sara would not let him go without asking any questions. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You’re the son of a lord?”

  “Aye. Or was the son of a lord. My father’s barony wasn’t quite Kenshire. We lost two manors along with the lordship and a very small village.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  Of cou
rse he was of noble descent. Everything about him told her as much, from his proud bearing to his ability with a sword. And yet he stole from others for a living. He sat across from her with no hint of embarrassment, only pride and his usual hint of arrogance.

  “I didn’t know you were curious.”

  “Of course I’m curious. That day on the beach, you refused to even discuss it. But I did ask.”

  Geoffrey shot back, “The murder of my parents is a topic I’d rather avoid.”

  Immediately contrite, she tried to explain. “I didn’t mean it in that way. It’s just … well … I can’t help but wonder how you came to your profession. A baron? Didn’t you have family to turn to?”

  “My brothers and sister live with family now.” At her questioning glance, he clarified, “Two brothers and one sister, all younger. But my aunt and uncle were barely surviving themselves before we arrived with extra mouths to feed.”

  “Aunt and uncle?”

  “My mother’s sister. The daughter of a physician, Lettie was too proud to accept charity from my parents. She and her husband lived humbly but comfortably. But they took us in without question. Hugh’s intention was to eventually take us south on a campaign to find additional men to support our claim.”

  Sara could guess at the outcome, having already worked out the timing in her head. The tic in his cheek hinted of impatience. But she pressed anyway. She needed to understand.

  “But civil war was brewing.”

  “Aye, the undercurrent of the baron’s war changed his plans, and instead we landed further east. We were still close to the border with extended family, but far enough away from the clan who took everything from us.”

  Geoffrey looked remarkably like his uncle. Elbows propped on his knees, he leaned forward as he told his story. His carriage reminded her of the time he’d appeared at the stable entrance and insisted on accompanying her for a ride—relaxed but very much in command. Her heartbeat quickened.

  “With four children at his heels, my aunt and uncle’s family couldn’t possibly support us. A displaced knight has few options, as you can imagine, so Hugh joined a local reiving family across the border.”