This could not be normal. Other people could not feel this.
At this moment, everything she was, everything she wanted was here with him. She forgot the queen and Owen. Forgot her enemies. When she was in Jamie’s arms like this, all else faded to nothing. It frightened her that something so fleeting could make her forget everything else she wanted, everything she had worked so hard to achieve.
If she forgot them, what would she have when Jamie left her?
Linnet trailed her fingers down Jamie’s chest and sighed. Sometimes after they made love, she could almost believe things were as they once had been between them. Almost.
But they were both wiser and more jaded now. In sooth, she had always been jaded. Perhaps it was growing up knowing she had a father who didn’t care what happened to her. And from the time she was thirteen, men had told her lies and attempted to seduce her.
Jamie had thought himself worldly back then, being three years older and a warrior. And he was, in some ways. But at his core, he had been such an innocent.
Fighting had not taken that from him. She had.
She had been too young herself at the time to appreciate the purity—and, aye, the rarity—of his love for her. ’Twas a wondrous thing he had given her; she knew that now.
He desired her now as much as ever. If possible, the bedding was even better than before. He liked her, enjoyed spending time with her. But once, he had given her the kind of love that held nothing back, and she knew the difference. Jamie might feel some affection for her, but he would not give her his heart again. He would save it for the woman he wed.
She laid her head back down on his chest, needing to feel his warmth radiate through her.
How long before he decided he needed a wife? She knew him. Jamie would want a woman he could openly share his life with. How long would she have him before he left her for the quiet, staid life he wanted?
She swallowed and blinked against the sting in her eyes. He’d left her once. He would do it again. Everyone did, save for Francois.
It hurt her pride that she cared so much more for him than he for her. She was used to men trailing her, begging for her favors. But Jamie just had to give her that look and crook his finger, and she would follow him into a soggy field to make love against a tree in a downpour.
His breathing was the steady rhythm of sleep, so she got up on her hands and knees to look at him. Her heart hurt as her gaze drifted over the strong planes of his face in repose.
When he opened his eyes, the corners of his mouth curved up.
“You are a lovely sight to wake up to,” he said and brushed his knuckles lightly against her cheek. Then he drew his brows together. “But why are you sad?”
She shook her head.
He pulled her down against him and gave her a melting kiss that eased the ache in her heart. Nay, she would not be sad. No matter how much it hurt her later, she would make the most of the time she had with him.
Chapter Seventeen
Jamie took a long ride along the river to get away from the chaos in the castle. After the quiet weeks of November and early December, Windsor had become abuzz with activity overnight. Servants scurried to and fro, hanging greenery and preparing chambers for the many guests expected to arrive for Christmas Court.
Jamie preferred the castle when it was quiet and nearly empty.
As he cantered past, a flock of ducks rose from the mist of the river and formed a V above him. He drew in deep breaths, filling his lungs with the cold, damp air, and felt better. A man was not meant to spend so much time indoors. What he wanted was an estate far from London—a place where he would know all his tenants and their families, as his parents did. He and Linnet could make a good life there.
The Duke of Bedford was bound to reward him for his services. Bedford had hinted at an estate in Normandy, but Jamie was holding out for lands in England. They were harder to come by, but England was home. He wanted his children to be born and bred on English soil.
“You needed this, too, didn’t you, boy?” He patted Thunder’s neck. A great warhorse was not made to be cooped up any more than he was.
Reluctantly, he turned Thunder around and rode back up the path. Windsor’s huge, distinctive Round Tower loomed ahead as a constant reminder of what lay ahead of him: a month of endless talk, silly entertainment, and political maneuvering. He hated it. Give him a good horse and a sword in his hand, any day.
Everyone of importance was expected to make an appearance at Christmas Court. That meant Jamie would have to keep his eyes open for danger to the queen. Many of the wealthy merchants, and some of the nobles as well, suspected the queen of secretly supporting her brother’s claim to the French throne.
As Jamie neared the castle, his squire came out the gate and ran up the path to meet him. Thunder’s breath came out in white puffs as he reined in.
“Good boy,” Jamie said and swung down.
“A message came for you, Sir James,” Martin said, holding out a rolled parchment.
Jamie handed Martin the reins and took the parchment. “Thunder will need a good rubbing-down.”