He took her in his arms. “With us so near to the village, I do not think it wise that we disrobe.”
She understood the wisdom of his words, but she wanted so badly to feel the length of him against her.
“I know it disappoints you,” he said, his hand stroking her face. “But your safety comes first.”
“Your mask, at least?”
“Then I must—”
“Blindfold me.” She nodded. “I trust you, Michael, I always have and I always will.”
He gently covered her eyes with his cloth belt and tied it securely around the back of her head. She waited as he removed his mask and when his warm cheek pressed to her cool one, she sighed and draped her arms around his neck.
“You feel so very good.”
He was clean-shaven, not a stubble on his smooth face, and she did not want him to stop rubbing his cheek with hers. She did not however complain when his lips followed the path his cheek had begun. He kissed every inch of her face and her legs trembled from the anticipation of their joining.
He eased her to the ground and when she reached to slip her hand beneath his shroud, he grabbed her arm.
“Nay, you must not. Let me love you.”
“But I wish to touch you, feel you, know your flesh once again.”
“Not this time, Mary,” he said with regret. “Our time together is short and I wish to love you in a manner you will never forget.”
“I wish to love you in return,” she argued.
“Another time.”
“There will be another time? You promise me this?”
He nibbled at her lips. “I promise there will be many more times.”
She acquiesced and let him love her.
He removed not a stitch of clothing. He released the ties of her blouse as he kissed her lips, softly and slowly, then fast and urgently. His fingers slipped inside her blouse to tease her nipples until they turned hard. He then trailed down her neck with his lips sending gooseflesh racing over her with each lick, nibble, and kiss.
He finally made his way to her nipples and when his mouth claimed the solid orb, his hand inched his way beneath her skirt to stroke her inner thighs.
Mary bit her lower lip, knowing she must not make a sound but aching to scream with the fiery passion he had awakened within her. His fingertips crawled slowly along her thighs, inching between her legs and she instantly grew wet with anticipation.
He captured her lips and they kissed deeply, quenching their thirst and love for each other.
“I wish there was more time,” he whispered. “I want to love you all day.”
“I do not want this to end,” she cried, her tears contained by her blindfold.
“I wish, oh how I wish, Mary,” he murmured and slipped over her, entering her slowly until he rested full-length inside her.
She sighed. “I love you, Michael.”
His groan was barely audible. “I love you more than you will ever know.”
With that he moved inside her and she joined his rhythm, so familiar to her and so very satisfying. They took their time, though knowing they had little left. And they climbed together in their passion, holding on to each other, urging each other, and loving each other, until as one, they exploded together.
The clung to each other, neither one willing to let the other go.
They both became alert when they heard a scurry of footfalls, then realized it was a small animal passing by.
Michael took the blindfold off her after securing his hood, and Mary quickly adjusted her clothing.
“I cannot say when I will see you again,” Michael said, pulling a twig from Mary’s long blond braid.
“As long as you will see me again,” she said with concern.
“I made you a promise. I will not break it.”
“Unless,” she was quick to say, “you feel yourself in danger, then you must promise me you will stay away.”
“I promise,” he said without hesitation.
She sighed relieved, for Michael was a man of his word.
He took her hand in his, slipped it under his mask, and kissed her palm. “Know that my heart and soul will be with you on the day you wed Decimus.”
She rested her hand to his cheek. “I will be thinking of you.”
“I am glad to hear that, for then you know you are loved.” He took her hand. “It is time to go.”
“Wait,” she said remembering the question she wished to ask of him as he spread the branches and stepped outside. She quickly followed him. “There is something I must know.”
“We do not have much time, can it not wait?”
She shook her head and asked her question. “I need to know who requested your help in finding me.”
“Magnus asked for my help.”
“Nay, the man who first asked you to find me. Reena explained it all to me and I am curious as to this man’s identity.”
“Why?”
“Because something does not feel right, though I cannot say what it is that troubles me, a missing piece of sorts.”
“And what purpose will this missing piece serve?” he asked.
“It will make the puzzle more clear, more logical.”
A sudden sharp sound like that of a branch cracking caused Mary to turn and see if anyone was near. Seeing no one and hoping it only an animal, she turned to Michael.
He was gone.
She looked around hoping to spot him, but he was nowhere.
She brushed her clothes clean and made certain her hair contained no twigs or leaves, then she began walking back to the keep.
She never got the answer to her question, but what disturbed her even more was that Michael had questioned her need for an answer.
Was he trying to protect her, or did he feel she would not like what she heard?
Chapter 27
Mary stood by the window in her bedchamber in her wedding dress, waiting to be summoned to the great hall for the ceremony. Reena and Brigid had just left her, letting her know that it would be only a short time before Magnus came for her. He would escort her to the great hall and give her hand to Decimus in marriage.
The dress Brigid had stitched for her was simply beautiful. It was a combination of blues, from deep blue velvet to soft blue silk. The bodice neckline was square and billowed out from beneath her breasts to fall to a flurry of dark blue velvet at her feet. Pale blue silk ribbon threaded along the bodice and around the upper arm. The sleeves fell to her wrists, the ribbon running around the edge like a cuff. And sapphires adorned the square neckline, beneath the bodice, and also trimmed the cuffs.
Her honey-blond hair was piled on her head, ivory combs keeping it secure. Blue and white wildflowers and bits of greenery were nestled in the curls. Old Margaret had fashioned a lovely bouquet of dried lavender and mint. It smelled heavenly.
Everything was set; she would soon wed Decimus, their destiny forever joined. The only hope she had to hold on to was the seer’s words.
You will be the demise of Decimus.
She prayed the woman’s prophecy would be true and that one day she would be free to love Michael.
A cloud drifted over the bright sun and dimmed an otherwise sunny day. Was it an omen of what was to come? Would her life with Decimus always be dim?
A knock on the door drew her away from the window and her troubled thoughts. She opened it and Magnus walked in.