Autumn's Touch (Seasons of Fortitude Series Book 3) Read online

  “They’re gone,” said Nairnie.

  “Gone?” Autumn looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “The ship left when they received yer missive.”

  Autumn’s smile faded. “What do you mean they left? And what missive? I never sent a missive.”

  “Mmmm hmmm,” said Nairnie, her eyes flashing over to Benedict. “I kent it was naught but a trick, but only Lester believed me. And because of it, he now sits in the dungeons of Ravenscar.”

  “The dungeon?” Anger flashed in Autumn’s eyes as she turned to glare at Benedict. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  “He was a threat,” said Benedict. “I don’t let anyone walk free who tells me they’re going to have my head.”

  “Oh. He said that?” Now her attention went back to Nairnie. “What did the fake missive say?”

  “It said the plague was within the castle’s walls and that we shouldna risk comin’ here but rather leave for Mablethorpe immediately.”

  “There is no plague here.” She glanced at Benedict suspiciously.

  “I’ve had enough of the chattering,” Benedict told them, wanting to change the subject. “You can both heal me now that you’re here.”

  “You threw my guard in the dungeon and lied so the crew would leave me stranded here,” spat Autumn. “I won’t heal you now no matter how much you beg me.”

  “Hmph,” said Nairnie, crossing her arms over her ample bosom. She had her bag of herbs and healing potions over her shoulder. “I willna heal ye either, after what ye did.”

  “I’ll have them whipped and brought to the dungeon for speaking to you that way, Lord Ravenscar.” Oxley grabbed Autumn and Nairnie’s arms and started to drag them to the door.

  “Wait!” Benedict stopped the man. He couldn’t have either of the women put in the dungeon or harmed in any way. Yet, if he didn’t take some course of action, he was sure Oxley would cause a scene. He would roil up the rest of Benedict’s knights and soldiers, telling them he should have inherited the position of Lord of Ravenscar, instead. There had always been a battle of Ravenscar’s attention between Benedict and Oxley. Oxley had been given the role of captain of the guard until Benedict was properly trained and old enough. Then the position was given to Benedict two years ago – the position that, at one time, had been his father’s. Benedict thought since Ravenscar was dead, things would change. He made Oxley captain of the guard again, but that didn’t seem to be enough. He knew the man wanted the position of lord ever since he’d been dubbed a knight. “Leave the girl here but take the old woman to the north tower and lock her inside,” Benedict told his men.

  “Aye, my lord,” answered Oxley.

  “Benedict, ye’re goin’ to lock me up like a prisoner after all I’ve done for ye?” asked Nairnie, shaking her head.

  “Benedict?” repeated Autumn, confused. “So that is Ravenscar’s first name? I heard he’s never told anyone. How do you know him? And what have you done for him?”

  “Mayhap Ravenscar hasna told a soul his real name but, then again, this isna the infamous man of the tales ye’ve heard, lassie,” Nairnie announced. “He’s an imposter assumin’ the true Ravenscar’s identity. His name is Benedict Grenfell.”

  “That’s enough!” shouted Benedict, not liking the way the conversation was going, especially with Oxley in the room. If the man saw any weakness in him at all, he would be sure to stir up trouble. “Oxley, take the old woman to the tower anon.”

  “It is Sir Oxley,” the man corrected him, stressing his title. This told Benedict that the man was already becoming rebellious since he had never corrected him about this before.

  “That’s enough,” snapped Benedict, refusing to call him, Sir. “Now go!”

  “I’ll go, too,” said Autumn.

  “Nay, you’ll stay and finish healing me,” he commanded.

  “I will not.”

  “You will.” He took a deep breath and said the words that pained him to even think of this consequence, but he had to put fear in the girl or she would never help him now. “You will heal me or . . . or Nairnie will be . . . killed.”

  “What did you say?” gasped Autumn.

  Benedict felt like the devil for even saying this when he didn’t want it to happen nor would he ever carry out the threat. He’d just put Autumn in a horrible position but only so she’d have no choice but to obey. He was sure she would never want any harm to come to Nairnie.

  “You heard me,” he said. “Her life depends on you.”

  “All right, I’ll heal you,” said Autumn to keep Nairnie from being killed. His ploy had worked beautifully. “But in return, I want you to set Nairnie free.”

  “Nay. I can’t do that.” He didn’t want Nairnie to be spilling all his secrets about his past outside the castle walls. She was the one person who knew more about him than anyone else did. It could be detrimental to his position.

  “So, you plan on keeping us here as your prisoners forever?” asked Autumn.

  He didn’t answer that because he didn’t know what to do with either of them now that they were here. Why hadn’t they just stayed on the ship? He dragged a hand through his hair in frustration, feeling the throbbing pain in his head becoming worse.

  “A life for a life,” said Oxley.

  “What did you say?” Benedict looked over to his guard.

  “If she saves your life, then one of them goes free. The other dies. That seems fair.”

  “Nay!” shouted Autumn. “How can you even say that?”

  Benedict paced the floor, scratching his hives, finding it difficult to think. He needed relief and he needed it now. He would tell the girl what she wanted to hear so she would help him. Then he’d decide what to do about everything else later when it was easier to think clearly.

  “Lady Autumn, when I am healed I will set Nairnie free,” he announced.

  Nairnie glared at him but didn’t say a word.

  “And will I die, instead?” Autumn asked in a calm voice.

  Benedict looked at Oxley who was staring him down, waiting for his answer. To kill at least one of them would have been what the old Ravenscar would do. That’s most likely why Oxley had suggested it. Now Benedict cursed himself silently for ever starting this game by threatening to take Nairnie’s life in the first place. What a mess he’d made of this situation.

  “Nay,” he said, seeing the guard frown from the corner of his eye. “One of you will be set free, but the other must stay with me at Ravenscar. Forever.”

  “Forever?” Autumn sounded so forlorn that Benedict wanted to change his decision, but couldn’t. He was trying to find a way out of this horrible situation that wouldn’t have his men accusing him of being a weak ruler. This was all he could come up with at the moment.

  “I’ll stay, Benedict,” said Nairnie. “Set Lady Autumn free instead.”

  “Nay, Nairnie,” cried Autumn. “I can’t leave you here with this beast. He might decide to kill you after all.”

  “He willna kill me,” she said, looking up with her wrinkled face. “Remember, I have visions of death, my dear. I have seen my death, but this is no’ the time, nor will I die by Benedict’s hand, so ye needna worry.”

  “Take her out of here,” said Benedict, not wanting to hear Nairnie speak of her visions. It had unsettled him when he was a boy and it did the same thing to him now.

  “Right away, my lord,” Oxley answered. Before they left, Nairnie put her healing bag on the ground.

  “Use my healin’ potions, Lady Autumn,” she told her. “It doesna look as if ye’ve got enough herbs to heal what’s ailin’ him!” She scowled at Benedict and left the room with the guard.

  “How does that old healer know you?” asked Nelek.

  Benedict didn’t want to answer his squire’s questions. He wasn’t ready to confront his past. The best thing he could do would be to give his squire a task to keep him busy.

  “Nelek, I want you to go to the kennelgroom and make sure he’s been feeding
my hounds since I’ve been ill.”

  “He has, my lord.”

  “All of them? I’ve been locked away for so long I’m sure my dogs are looking for me. Take them out to the field for exercise.”

  “All of them?” Now it was Nelek’s turn to act surprised.

  “Yes, all of them. Now go.”

  “But – my lord. I don’t think I can handle them all at the same time.”

  “How many hounds are there?” asked Autumn. “Three? Four?”

  “Twelve,” said Nelek with a groan.

  Autumn couldn’t hold back her grin. She was sure the squire was jesting, but when no one else seemed amused, she realized he was speaking the truth.

  “Twelve?” She raised a brow. “Why so many?”

  “My lady, Lord Ravenscar is a man of extremes,” said the squire.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “He does nothing in moderation. You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Enough with the small talk,” snapped Benedict, itching his back, but not quite able to reach it. “Get going, Nelek. I won’t tell you again.”

  Nelek left, leaving Autumn alone with the beast. She decided to cure him as fast as possible, to ensure Nairnie wouldn’t have to stay in this awful place any longer than needed.

  “Take off your clothes and get in bed,” she commanded, walking over to her herb basket and the items she’d placed on the table.

  “My clothes?” he asked, sounding timid all of a sudden.

  “I can’t heal your illness if it is hidden under your clothing. I’ve found some dried herbs in your kitchen that I used to make a tincture for you to drink. But now that Nairnie has brought the healing bag, I’ll use some of those balms on your skin to stop the itching and cure your hives.”

  She opened a flagon of wine and crumbled up some herbs and dropped them inside the decanter. Then she leaned over and sniffed it. Then she poured what looked like a cup of hot water with herbs floating in it right into the wine. She mixed it with the wooden handle of a spoon from the kitchen, proceeding to pour some into a cup. Walking over, she handed it to him.

  “What is this? What are you doing?” he asked.

  “It is a tincture that will help heal that cough I heard earlier. It’ll also help dispel any infection from your body. Drink it.”

  “Drink it?” He looked at the vile concoction in the cup and made a face.

  “You wanted me to heal you, so do as I say. Drink it down.”

  He sniffed it and made a face. When he looked back up to her to make an excuse, she had her hands on her hips and was glaring at him. He sighed and brought the cup to his mouth, sampling the liquid. It was bitter and awful and he almost gagged.

  “I’ll not drink this poison!”

  “It’s not poison.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “It is red wine infused with a mixture of licorice root, horehound, sage, and wormwood. It’ll cure just about anything.”

  “If it doesn’t kill me first,” he mumbled. “I don’t like the names of the herbs. It sounds like something I should give my hounds instead.”

  “Do you want my help or not?”

  He looked down into the cup and then back up at her angry, green eyes, not at all sure she wasn’t trying to poison him so she could escape. However, if he refused to drink the potion, she might also refuse to help heal him. He would rather be dead than to live with the itching and raised red welts. It was driving him out of his mind. He finally decided it was the lesser of two evils. Closing his eyes, he swallowed down the bitter, vile liquid and held out the cup, shaking it in her face.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “More,” he said in a raspy voice, figuring the more he drank, the faster he’d be healed.

  “Nay, that’s enough for now. Sometimes too much of an herb can kill a person.”

  “I said more.” He moved the empty cup back and forth under her nose. “I want to be healed quickly. I don’t have time to wait. Since you refused to use your healing touch on me again, I’ve decided I’ll double the dosage and be healed twice as fast.”

  “That’s not how it works.”

  “It does for me. Now bring more of that healing potion.”

  “Now I see what your squire meant when he said you were a man of extremes,” Autumn mumbled, turning back for the decanter. Ravenscar was obviously a man who believed in all or nothing and had no idea what moderation meant. With the decanter in her hands, she turned back toward the bed, stopping in her tracks. She almost dropped the potion when she saw Benedict lying naked on the bed on his stomach. His body was toned and sculpted, and his legs were thick and strong. His back held muscles as well as his buttocks. If it weren’t for the hives, he would be the perfect embodiment of the most desirable man she’d ever seen.

  “Is there a problem, Lady Autumn?” He pushed up to his elbows, his long hair falling around his shoulders as his dark eyes drank her in. The stream of sunlight shining through the open window danced upon his skin.

  She released the breath she wasn’t even aware she was holding and headed to the bed. With a shaky hand, she gave him the potion. In three gulps, he drank it down.

  “You get used to it after the first cup,” he commented, tossing the empty vessel to the ground. “What’s next?”

  She dug into Nairnie’s healing bag and pulled out the jar she’d been looking for. Uncorking the lid, she stuck two fingers into the balm.

  “What’s in there?”

  “Does it really matter?” she asked.

  “It does to me. I want to know what it is before you put it on my body.”

  “It’s a healing balm that will stop the itching and help the hives to subside. It’s made with comfrey, oil, a little lavender, and mixed into beeswax.”

  “Beeswax?” His brows raised in surprise. “Do you know how expensive that is?”

  “Aye. That’s why we’ll only use a little.”

  “Nay, use it all,” he said, causing her to sigh and shake her head.

  “This might feel a little cold,” she warned him. “So, just beware.”

  Using two fingers, she scooped out the healing balm and slathered it onto the irritated skin on his back. He jerked and then relaxed as she smoothed the ointment into his skin.

  It was, perhaps, selfish of her, but she wanted to know what the man looked like without the rash. While she planned on using herbs to heal him only, she found herself using her newfound gift of her healing touch as well. He wasn’t the only one eager to speed up the healing process.

  He moaned into the pillow, sounding like he was enjoying all this. Then she took another scoop and trailed it down his back, lower and lower, until her hands were caressing his buttocks. She squeezed his toned cheeks between her fingers, letting her hands slip freely over his body. With his legs slightly spread, she couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering lower. She could see his manly parts peeking out, though his front was covered. She felt as if she were on fire! Never had she been so close to a naked man, and rubbing her hands over him, like this before. It excited her and only made her daydream, once again, of what it would be like to couple with Lord Ravenscar.

  Benedict jerked slightly when Autumn’s soft hands smoothed over his bare buttocks. A moan lodged at the back of his throat. Heat now engulfed him that had naught to do with a fever and everything to do with lust. He craved the intimate touch of a lover. She was exciting him with the way she rubbed the balm in small, sensuous circles over his backside.

  “Mmmmm,” he moaned aloud, not able to hold back his expression of pleasure.

  “Does that sting?” she asked, her voice sounding low and sultry to his ears. “I’ll try to be gentler.”

  “Nay. It feels . . . good.”

  Her hands stilled, and she remained quiet for a moment. He wondered if, perhaps, he shouldn’t have expressed aloud how much he was enjoying her touch. Then she did something that shocked him.

  “All right, turn over,” she said, slapping
her hand against his butt. The sting of her flesh against his and the sound of their bodies joining only made him want to turn over and pull her to him in a tight embrace. His head shot up off the pillow and his eyes opened wide. Had she really just spanked him? He felt his manhood grow in excitement at the thought of it. “I said, turn over so I can finish my ministrations.”

  “I don’t think I’d better,” he said, trying to save her from feeling embarrassed by what she was about to see.

  “Don’t be silly. If you want me to heal you, I have to do the other side as well.”

  “If you insist.” He flipped over on his back, about to expose his naked groin to her. Her head whipped around and she faced the other way, holding her hand up to her eyes to block her view.

  “I didn’t mean for you to expose yourself! Cover your manhood with the sheet, Lord Ravenscar, or have you no shame?”

  He grabbed the sheet and laid it over his waist. It didn’t help much since the sheet stuck up in the air like a tent. “I only did what you told me to do.”

  “I am a healer, not one of your strumpets,” she scolded him, slowly turning back to him. “You’d be best to remember that from now on.” He expected her to run from the room, but she didn’t. She continued to rub the balm in sensuous circles over his chest. He swore she played with him, as she rubbed his nipples with her fingertips until they rose to hardened peaks. It was no longer his illness that was driving him mad – it was the fact he was so excited by Autumn’s touch that he felt as if he were going to burst if he didn’t find his release soon.

  He grabbed her wrist to stop her. She turned her head. Bright green eyes interlocked with his. He found himself lost in the swirling depths of hooded, sultry eyes that said take me and leave me alone all at the same time. Damn it! It would be so easy to take her right now. She was not only a fae but a temptress whether she realized it or not. “Yes, you are a healer. And I am a man lying here naked letting a beautiful woman rub her hands over my aroused body. I am only a man, Lady Autumn, not a bloody saint! You’d be best to remember that from now on as well.”