AUTHOR'S NOTE: The moment I looked at the calendar again, I was completely mortified! I had been running SO late on schedule that it truly scared me! Then again, that is silver_firefly when she is intent on finishing something she wants to do... :) I apologize for my tardiness, but I revised the original chapter completely! Nothing but two whole paragraphs of it remained in this version. :P Not sure if this one is better than the other one (although I, of course, think that it is), but I hope you still enjoy it. Thank you very, very much for reading 'Courting Daphne', and as before, all comments are welcome!
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The back of his head was throbbing in pain. Leander tried to move his hand to touch the tender spot, but his movements were restrained by shackles around his wrists. Grunting, he tried to open his eyes, not sure what had happened to him.
The first thing that he noticed was the canopy. Tried as he might, he could not remember ever seeing it before. A splitting headache hit him again. He closed his eyes, but not before he saw an insignia with two snakes and two swords. As his consciousness faded, Leander realized what it was: Northcove's coat of arms.
*****
"What the hell did you do to him?"
Leander heard the woman's urgent whisper the next time he woke up. He recognized the voice immediately, so he tried to pry his eyes open even though the pain on his head was still bothering him.
"It was necessary," replied another familiar voice. Anthony's.
The general groaned, still uncertain of past events. What happened? The last thing he remembered was waking up and seeing Northcove's insignia. If only not for
her
voice, he would dismiss it as part of a dream. Yet, he just heard her, and he had to know --
"Stay put, Leander," she commanded when he tried to move again.
He was not listening, though. Much to his dismay, however, he could not get off the shackles that bound him to the bed. Still, he opened his eyes if only to check on her.
Her eyes were filled with worry as they appraised him. He longed to make them twinkle with laughter again, yet Leander knew that he could not. Not yet. Still, just the sight of them, green with flecks of gold, seemed to uncoil the knot of apprehension in his guts. She was all right, and that was one worry less.
She sat on the bed and hesitantly smiled at him. He tried to smile back but the pain in his head made him flinch instead. Then, reality kicked in. If he was in Northcove's palace, as he might be, then it would be because of Daphne --
And Anthony, who was awkwardly standing at the foot of the bed, watching Daphne and him. What was he doing there? Leander's head throbbed, evoking a hiss of pain from him. A groan sounded from Daphne, before Leander felt her head on his shoulder, her hands on his naked body.
He groaned. Her scent was so inviting. Hair washed in lavender, he was sure. And her body, so soft, so close to his. Her hands, so warm on his flesh. Her voice, so silky as she whispered words of apology. Only a stone would not be aroused. Gods, how could he still want her when it was she who put him in this situation?
Leander swallowed hard and closed his eyes again when he felt Daphne's lips on his shoulder. There was no denying that she could set his blood on fire; he just wished she would not do it right now, when he needed to ask her so many questions.
But Providence was not on his side lately; Daphne did nothing but torture him more. Her lips moved to his neck, his jaws, his cheeks. Another groan issued forth from her lips, this time full of longing, not of worry. Leander fought the urge to respond to her, but he knew even before he heard the sound of his groan that it was a futile battle. He wanted her too much.
Her fingers traced their way upwards to caress Leander's face. Every touch was so careful, so gentle, that Leander immediately opened his eyes even though the action caused him pain. Those touches reminded him of the first time he made love to Daphne, when, in her innocence, she was tentatively touching his body to explore.
Daphne's face was inches away from his, and with her eyes, she was following the movement of her fingers on his cheek. When she felt him looking at her, however, she looked at him. The fire reflected in her eyes made Leander wonder if she had missed him as much as he did, after all.
The kiss that she planted on his kiss was answer enough. It was full of hunger, of anticipation. Her tongue demanded passage into his mouth, passage that he readily gave as he kissed her back. Whatever she had done, she was still the woman he wanted with everything in him. He would be twice a fool -- maybe even more than that -- if it meant having her.
Leander tugged at the shackles again, more frustrated with it than ever as his cock started to come alive. He wanted to hold her, touch her, see if she was as aroused as he was at the moment.
"I refuse to be the audience of this," Anthony drawled. "He has to rest, Daphne."
Leander had quite forgotten his friend. If Anthony did not want to see, he better leave. Yet, Daphne groaned in frustration as she pulled away from him.
He would have objected had there not been a knock on the door. Both Anthony and Daphne turned as a guard entered. The man announced that the duke needed to talk to Daphne, and she left the room after hastily giving Leander a kiss on the forehead.
"You look good in shackles, I must say," Anthony taunted him, grinning from ear to ear.
"Damn you," Leander hissed, narrowing his eyes as his most recent memories before he woke up in this room slowly dawned on him. "You have a lot to explain to me."
Anthony raised his hands as if in surrender. "Not me, General. Your woman does." After saying that, he grinned again. "She likes you. A lot. If I were not here to remind you that you were not alone and that you need to rest, she would have devoured you."
"Then perhaps you should have kept your peace and let her do so as you watch," Leander said in annoyance. "Explain everything to me. Now."
His friend made for the door. "Ah. No. I will leave the explaining part to Daphne. I will tell her to talk to you when she is done talking with the duke." He was just about to open the door when he looked at Leander again. "By the way. The old duke has died while Elgeshore is at war. His eldest son, the former Earl of Chantercy, now rules over Northcove, and he plans to go to war."
When he was alone, Leander frowned. Chantercy? How could he have missed that? Daphne was supposed to have been Chantercy's wife had she not run away. Which meant that Northcove would choose to ally with Thersale rather than Elgeshore. But his son...?
Gabriel Northcove. Was he an ally or a foe? Or was he looking at this the wrong way? Shouldn't he be wondering if Daphne was working against or for her kingdom? If the duke lets Daphne roam around while Leander was tied down, it only meant that Northcove and Daphne were in the same side. But were they in the same side as him? And Anthony? Was his best friend betraying him?
His head was starting to throb painfully again. He cursed whoever it was who hit his head. What did the man use to do that, anyway?
As he closed his eyes, he let his mind wander off to his last memories before waking up shackled to the bed. It started with the letter from Anthony. The damn man gave him advice to march the Black Wolves north in order to fight the Duke of Northcove's mercenaries. Anthony even advised Leander to send a letter to General Norcross, asking for reinforcements. Even though Leander doubted the wisdom of the plan, he agreed, especially after learning that the new duke was holding Daphne hostage so that the Duke of Wildercross would be loathe to moving a finger to aid Thersalians.
He knew for a fact that their plans might be a suicide mission, but it was worth the try, since the lack of Wildercross' backing would mean defeat for the whole Thersalian ranks. Besides, Leander trusted his friend to do the right thing. For four days the army moved from their camp to the edge of Northcove's territory, all warriors ready to fight and die fighting. Yet, as soon as he was alone with Anthony whom he wanted to ask for answers, all Leander got was a devilish grin and a club to the head.
Gods, if Anthony refused to talk, then Leander could only pray that Daphne would. He knew that there was a web of betrayal hanging over him, but he wanted to know who was weaving it and how large it had become.
"Damn..." he hissed, picturing Daphne's image in his mind. "Come to me soon."
*****
Gabriel watched Daphne's reaction as the lady read the letter he handed her. Her hands were slightly shaking, and when the duke realized that, he looked away.
"He wants me home," she whispered after clearing her throat.
