A Family Affair

Jennypher Armintrout

The following is Fanfiction. For the unenlightened, Fanfiction steals characters and past situations to form new situations, sometimes aided by handwritten characters. Such is Grace. She’s mine, leave her alone, unless you ask my permission. Then you must give me credit for Grace. Anyhoo, no money was made, and only pure and utter love for Covington was my motive. God bless Gil Grant. Comments, Praise, the like, are welcome, as are bags of hot nickels.

Armus looked down, straightening his doublet for the fourth time in as many minutes.

Sir Thomas looked at his eldest son with an amused smile on his face. He remembered the nervous waiting that his son was enduring. He himself had been apprehensive in the moments before he first met the woman who was to be his bride. "Armus, stop fidgeting, you look fine." he said, feigning exasperation to cover the sadness he felt. His son was finally to be married, a duty that had been avoided by the crusades, but a time that had eventually come to hand. Yet Sir Thomas did not see his son as a grown man of twenty and five years; in his mind, Armus was still a little boy, cuddling up to his mother when he had scraped his knee.

Armus looked at his father, his large blue eyes, the same eyes that had seen the horror of the war in the Holy Lands, filled with uncertainty. "If she doesn’t like me...if she refuses me..." he managed to say, hoping for encouraging words from his father.

Sir Thomas longed to tell his son that these feelings were only natural, that he himself had gone through the same mental agony, but instead he only offered a pat on the back as he lead his son from the room. "It’s not for her to refuse you...it is for me to refuse her dowry."

Armus smiled weakly, and followed his father silently.

Armus and Sir Thomas stood at one end of the great hall, flanked by Lady Elizabeth and the rest of the family, all waiting anxiously for the herald to announce the visitors.

"Do you suppose she’ll be ugly?" Cedric whispered to Richard, who elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

Sir Thomas looked at his younger sons in a mixture of disbelief and anger. "Could we have some respect? She may be your new sister, all of you. Let’s make a consistent effort to be polite and," he lowered his voice even more, staring hard at Cedric, "tactful. I’m sure she’ll be quite lovely." he reassured Armus, who looked as if he would faint.

"The Lady Grace Winterbourne." the herald intoned, and the entire party straightened unconsciously.

Armus felt his breath catch at the sight of the woman entering the hall. Her thick blonde hair was twisted into a long braid that fell forward over her shoulder, partially hidden by her scarlet riding cloak. She bowed elegantly, her blue eyes downcast, but Armus could see that they matched the deep, dark blue hue of her gown. Her pale skin all but glowed in the sunlight streaming through the windows of the hall.

Sir Thomas noted his son’s reaction to the beautiful creature that bowed before them. It was clear that Armus himself wouldn’t be speaking any time soon. "Please, rise." he said jovially. As the girl straightened, two serving maids scurried forward to help her off with her cloak. She pulled the hood down carefully, revealing her long, slender neck.

"Welcome, to Covington Cross, Lady Winterbourne." Sir Thomas said, kissing the girl’s hand. "Your father will be along soon, I expect?"

The girl smiled shyly, a faint blush coming to her cheeks. "Thank you, my lord. Unfortunately, my father has not been able to make the trip. He has been a bit ill." she paused, not knowing what to say. "My brother, and one of my sisters, have accompanied me. My father left my brother in charge of...business affairs."

In a moment two more figures entered the hall. "Lord James Winterbourne and Lady Carmine Whiteby." the herald called as the pair bowed before the family. Both were fair of hair and skin, like their sister, but neither could compare to her delicate features.

Sir Thomas kissed Lady Whiteby’s hand, bowing low. "It is an honor."

"Indeed, my lord." Lady Whiteby said, smiling broadly. James stood by coldly. "Come now, James, this isn’t a funeral." Carmine said, nudging him playfully.

"I apologize. My sister does not understand the seriousness of this visit." James said, shaking Sir Thomas’s hand firmly. "I would wish to discuss the dowry arrangements as soon as possible."

Sir Thomas smiled politely, unswayed by the younger man’s directness. "Of course. But first I do believe the two must meet." he motioned for Armus to come forward.

Armus hesitated for a moment. The girl still had not looked up, but had remained staring humbly at the floor. At the sound of the footsteps approaching she raised her head.

"My lady, this is my son, Armus." Sir Thomas said, placing an assuring hand on his son’s back.

"My lord." Grace murmured, bowing. She stood again, and her deep blue eyes met Armus’s intent gaze.

"My lady, it is an honor." he said, bowing and kissing her hand. Her palm was clammy as he took her hand in his, and he was grateful that he was not the only one nervous.

"Well, while my lord Winterbourne and I talk over the business end of things, why don’t you show my lady Grace around the gardens?" Sir Thomas said, patting Armus on the back.

"My sister will chaperone, of course." James said, motioning to Carmine.

Carmine narrowed her eyes. "Oh brother, I do believe you belong in a convent." she said, covering her acid statement with a polite chuckle.

"Of course, it would only be proper." Sir Thomas said, looking to Lady Elizabeth, whose obvious dislike for James showed in her otherwise polite expression.

Carmine stepped forward, forcing Armus and Grace out of their contemplations of each other. "Come along. You two have much to discuss."

"Indeed." Armus said, offering his arm to Grace, who hesitatingly linked her arm through his. "My lady." he said in a low voice.

Richard, Eleanor and Cedric exchanged amused glances.

"I do believe they are off to a good start." Richard said quietly, causing his siblings to nod in emphatic agreement.

Grace tried to keep her heart from pounding as she walked beside Armus. He was politely explaining the rooms they passed on their way to the gardens, but Grace couldn’t hear him over the fearful rushing of blood in her ears and the thoughts swimming around in her head. She believed she may need to give confession very soon.

"And if we exit here," Armus said, smiling at her, "we will find ourselves in my mother’s gardens."

Grace caught the knowing expression on her sister’s face as they exited the door that Armus held for them. She was certain that Carmine could read her thoughts, and she blushed to the roots of her hair.

"And were is your mother, pray?" Carmine said, startling Armus. He had been far too busy admiring Grace to have expected any questions. His face turned suddenly grave.

"She passed away, some years ago. Just after I went on crusade." he said quietly. A look of sympathy crossed Grace’s face, and it did not go unnoticed by Carmine.

"I am sorry." Carmine said, wishing to change the subject. "You went on crusade?" she said, adding a cheerful note to her words to smooth over her careless mistake. "You must be a great warrior."

Armus flushed, looking down. "I was a cook."

Grace beamed, her eyes lighting up. "I think it is very brave to go to a foreign land."

Armus looked up at her, and smiled back. Carmine smiled at the exchange between the two.

"You two seem to be getting along well. I feel there is no longer a need for me to be here. I will wish you good day." Carmine said, bowing to Armus.

Grace paled. "What about James?"

Carmine smiled, amused by her sister’s panic. It wasn’t James she worried about; it was being left alone with this man who she obviously admired. "Tell him I fell ill. If he has any objections, I will deal with him."

"Carmine, wait!" Grace called, hurrying after her sister. "What will I do?" she whispered urgently.

Carmine looked at Armus, then back to her sister. "You can’t very well marry him and not yet have spoken ten words to him. Talk." she said, and left her sister standing in the garden.

Armus approached her cautiously, as if she were a bird that would fly if startled. "This is a bit awkward, isn’t it?" he laughed, unsure of himself.

Grace nodded, laughing nervously. "I’m sorry...my sister is...different."

Armus laughed in earnest this time. "I know the feeling."

Richard put his ear to the door, listened for a moment, then returned to his siblings at the end of the hall. "Father strikes a hard bargain, but as far as I hear, we may be gaining the forest outside Chelsea fields."

"We already own most of the forest outside of Chelsea fields, why would father settle for something so pathetic?" Eleanor asked, her hands on her hips.

"I’m sure it isn’t all he’s settling for." Cedric said, leaning against the wall. "I’ll wager we get another castle."

Richard nodded. "I believe that all father really cares about is getting Armus to sire an heir. He has put it off long enough."

Eleanor wrinkled her nose. "I don’t think any one of us wants to think of Armus doing...that."

Richard and Cedric laughed, but they ceased when the door to Sir Thomas’s study opened.

"Do you children have anything better to do than eavesdrop?" Sir Thomas asked sternly.

Richard elbowed Cedric, who apologized in a half mumble and hurried away.

"Sorry father." Eleanor said, bowing, and following Cedric.

"Sorry father." Richard said, nodding to Sir Thomas and following his sister.

Sir Thomas shook his head, closing the door to his study.

When the family gathered for dinner that evening, Sir Thomas seemed to be in high spirits. Armus sat at his father’s right, and James to Sir Thomas’s left. Grace and Carmine sat next to their brother, their hands folded demurely in their laps. Lady Elizabeth sat beside Armus, noting with an amused smile that he never took his eyes off of Grace, and she too snuck furtive glances at him.

After the blessing, Sir Thomas straightened his shirt front and announced jovially "Lord Winterbourne and I have reached an agreement. Armus and the lady Grace shall be wed tomorrow night, here at Covington Cross."

Lady Elizabeth hugged Armus, who looked as if he were relieved, overjoyed, and frightened at the same time.

Carmine exchanged a smile with her sister, who was positively beaming.

"I’m sure everyone will do what they can to help the wedding go smoothly." Sir Thomas said, raising an eyebrow at his three younger children, who looked down.

"A toast, to the bride and bridegroom." James said, taking up his cup.

"To the bride and bridegroom!" everyone said in joyous unison, before the sound of animated chatter filled the hall.

"Thinking of anyone in particular?"

Grace jumped at her sister’s voice. She had been sitting on her bed, absently brushing her hair, thinking of her impending nuptials, when Carmine had entered almost soundlessly. Grace blushed, dropping the comb into her lap. "How did you do it, Carmine?"

Carmine picked up the comb and went to work on her sister’s long hair, as she had done since they were children. "How did I do what?"

"Marry. How could you stand the constant nervousness. Ever since we left home I’ve wanted to laugh, and cry, and loose my dinner all at the same time. It’s only gotten worse since I’ve met him." Grace sighed, closing her eyes.

Carmine laughed. "You will survive. At least you are getting someone young. Your marriage will last considerably longer than mine. Your wedding night, too, I’ll wager."

Grace blushed, scandalized. "Good gracious, how you talk!" she gasped.

Carmine laughed, wondering if there had ever been a time that she had been that innocent. "Count yourself lucky. Few women get husbands so robust. If his stature is any indication of his manhood-"

"Carmine!" Grace gasped, turning redder, if that were possible. "I don’t know anything of what you speak of."

Carmine stopped brushing and sat beside her sister on the bed. "Did mother ever explain to you about married love?" she asked.

Grace shook her head, looking down. "I was still in convent school when mother died." she looked up at her sister with wide eyes. "Is it awful, as the nuns tell us?"

"And how would the nuns know?" Carmine asked with a smile. "It is not awful. For me it was not pleasant, something I did out of duty. But Oliver was old, and feeble...not as appealing as your Armus."

Grace blushed again. "I wouldn’t know."

"Come now, I’ve seen the way you look at him. All through dinner, when you kept sneaking glances at him. He’s not as handsome as his brothers, though there is something about him." Carmine said with a conspiratorial grin.

Grace smiled. "I think he is wonderful." she said, laughing.

A look of sadness crossed Carmine’s face. "You are lucky."

Grace took her sister’s hand. "There will be other marriages...other men. You have mourned for Oliver as required, nothing stops you from marrying again."

Carmine smiled at her sister, thinking only of the family’s depleted coffers, and the waning inheritance from her husband’s death. "Yes, I’m sure there will be."

A knock on the door startled them both.

"Who is it?" Grace called out timidly.

"It’s Armus. Have I come at a bad time?"

Grace was up in an instant, heedless of her unbound hair. She flung the door open hurriedly. "My lord, my sister was just leaving to ready herself for bed." she said smiling at her sister with pleading eyes.

Carmine nodded with a smile. "Yes, good night, my lord. Grace." she said, bowing before she left the room.

"I brought you something." Armus said, fumbling with the beautiful pearl necklace he held in his hands. "My mother wore these on her wedding day...I’d like you to wear them tomorrow."

Grace’s breath caught in her throat as he held the pearls out to her. She took them gently into her own hands, shuddering slightly as their fingertips touched. "Thank you. I will wear them, my lord."

"Please, you can call me Armus." he said smiling nervously.

Grace stared into his eyes as if mesmerized. "Thank you, Armus."

After what seemed like an eternity he leaned down, gently brushing her lips with his. Grace put one arm around his neck, and he linked his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, kissing her again. He stepped away looking down. "Until tomorrow, my lady."

"Grace." she whispered, still breathless from the kiss.

"Well then, until tomorrow, Grace." he said, bowing before he turned and hurried away down the hall.

Grace closed the door and leaned against it, her heart pounding, her hand still clutching the pearls.

"James, I will not go through with this!" Carmine whispered fiercely, pacing back and forth before the fire.

James sat staring lazily into the fire, his feet propped up on the a small ottoman. "I don’t understand this sudden objection. You were informed of the plan before we left Winterbourne, were you not?"

Carmine didn’t answer, only paced more determinedly.

"And did you not agree?" James asked again, plucking a grape from the tray in front of him.

"It was different, before we met these people. I can’t steal from them." Carmine said, stopping next to her brother’s chair. "She’s so innocent."

"We aren’t harming her. In fact, the man’s obvious affection for her works to our advantage. Once kidnapped, he’d no doubt persuade his father to give over anything to assure her safe return." James said, taking a long draught from his wine glass.

Carmine shook her head. "I don’t like it."

"Nor do I," James said, consuming another grape, "but we have very little choice. Rob the Greys or starve the Winterbourne. I choose the former."

"How do you propose it done?" Carmine asked finally.

James stood, obviously eager to share his scheme. "The morning after the wedding I suggest a ride...just Armus and I, but of course Grace will come along, and you, if you care to. You will not. You will plead a headache, or women’s troubles, something of the like.

"After we’ve entered the forest we are beset upon by thieves, who divest us of our purses, and take poor Grace hostage. Armus and I ride back to Covington Cross and send men out looking for the bandits, who will be no where to be found. A ransom note will arrive later, by masked rider, who leaves before he can be captured.

"Among the items named in the ransom, the deed to the Barbican. After acquiring this deed, we sell it to John Mulleins for a hefty price, through anonymous channels, of course. Hence, Mullens will get the trade route, we get the money-"

"And Mullens takes the blame!" Carmine finished for her brother, her eyes alight.

James nodded, "With no harm done to our sister, or her happiness."

Carmine looked down at her hands, then back to her brother. "Then we shall have no time to waste, in preparing for the wedding." she said finally, before leaving her brother to his plotting.

"Cedric, what are you doing?" Eleanor called to her brother, who was in the process climbing a precarious ladder.

Cedric ceased his climb. "You had this garland hung all wrong. It looks like it’s just been thrown up here."

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "Come down from there at once. I doubt Armus would like his wedding anniversary and the anniversary of your death to coincide."

Cedric climbed down, joining his sister back on the ground. "It seems strange, doesn’t it? I mean, one of us marrying?"

"Stranger things have happened." Eleanor said, surveying the garland, "But it will take getting used to."

"Imagine, not long from now, he’ll have a family. We’ll be aunts and uncles." Cedric mused.

"I think I will have that garland changed." Eleanor said finally, placing a hand to her mouth and running from the room before anyone could see she was crying.

Cedric watched her go and shrugged. "It doesn’t look that bad."

"Carmine, would you help me?" Grace asked with a nervous laugh, holding the pearls out to her sister.

Carmine nodded, and took the pearls from her, careful not to tangle them. She gently fastened them around Grace’s neck, then stepped back to admire her.

Grace looked beautiful, in a creme colored satin gown overlaid with gold brocade. Her hair was plaited carefully, hanging down her back in a thick rope that almost reached to the floor. A garland of pearls was woven into the plait, and her hair was covered by a sheer gossamer veil, held in place by a circlet of gold.

"You look beautiful." Camine said, embracing her sister.

"I’m terrified." Grace said, dissolving into tears. Carmine smoothed the veil down over her sister’s hair.

"Nonsense. There is nothing to be afraid of." she said, stepping back.

Grace smiled, wiping her eyes. "He kissed me." she whispered, giggling and wiping tears from her eyes.

"When?" Carmine asked, her eyes glittering.

Grace blushed, still giggling. "Last night. After you left."

Carmine smiled. "Did you like it?" she asked, and Grace looked down.

"I don’t think it is something that a decent woman would like." she said, remembering the words of the nuns at the convent school.

Carmine went to the window. "You’re only sixteen. Don’t worry about what makes you good, or decent." she sighed. "I do so wish mother could have explained it all to you. Instead of letting some frightful old nuns scare you. Mother would understand..." she trailed off, more to herself than to Grace. "It’s of no concern."

Grace looked up at her sister. "Would mother have liked how I turned out?"

Carmine looked into her sister’s innocent blue eyes, that knew nothing of the plotting or intrigues the family had resorted to. "She would most certainly like the way you turned out. You most of all."

Armus knelt beside his mother’s grave for the first time, the early morning sunlight filtering through the late autumn leaves above him. The effigy, he decided, looked nothing like Anne, it was too cold. His mother had been soft and comforting, not this stoic woman depicted on the tomb before him.

"Mother...I’m home." he said quietly, tears coming to his eyes. "If I had known...if I had any idea, I would have stayed behind. I would have...said all those things to you that I wanted to." he stopped, unsure of what to say next. "I’m going to marry, mother. Today, this morning. If you were here no doubt you would tell me that it is about time." he laughed at the image of his mother, hands on her hips, that kind smile on her face. He couldn’t recall a time when she was angry, or upset, save when his father rode into battle. All he could remember was a beautiful, shy, loving woman. A woman not unlike the one he was about to marry.

"I would have liked you to see my children." he said finally, breaking into tears as the autumn leaves swirled about him, stirred by the early morning breeze.

The great hall was packed with as many guests as could arrive on such short notice. Many of them had not slept, having traveled all night. The wedding of Sir Thomas’s eldest son was a great occasion, and not one to be missed.

The kitchen staff had prepared Armus’s usual breakfast, and were surprised when he couldn’t eat it, only picking feebly at a piece of bread.

Carmine and James escorted their sister to the hall, on either side of her, as she looked as though she might at any moment faint. The curious stares of the guests were almost more than Carmine could handle. She was sure that the whispers flooding the hall were about her family’s money troubles.

James, on the other hand, smiled charismatically, winking at the occasionally young girl in the throng as they led Grace to the great stone fireplace.

Armus was already waiting there, his expression grim. Upon catching sight of Grace, however, his face softened. The beautiful creature before him was to be his in just moments, this living, breathing, stunning woman, who was really no more than just a girl.

She looked up at him and gave a nervous smile. "Good day, my lord...Armus" she said quietly.

"You wore them." he said, gesturing to the pearls that draped the slender column of her throat.

Grace unconsciously put a hand to her throat, and Armus could see her pulse leap in the tiny hollow above the meeting of her collar bones. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms right then, damn the crowd watching.

Sir Thomas stepped forward from the crowd, next to the priest and the friar. "Welcome, welcome to my home on this joyous occasion." he called to the throng, who raised their cups and voices in approval. The priest stepped forward, calling for silence.

Armus couldn’t take his eyes off of Grace as she repeated the Latin vows the priest spoke to her. He was so intent on her that when it came his time to speak, he could only mumble through it. She must think me a complete idiot, he thought, looking at Grace, who only smiled back at him.

Before he knew it, they were being showered with seeds and shouts of "Plenty!" from the guests. He turned to Grace, who beamed back at him, her face full of the loving adoration Armus had never expected to receive from a wife by contract. He laughed, and swooped his tiny wife up in his arms, spinning her around before setting her on her feet for a kiss. "I do believe my appetite is back." he whispered to her, and they both laughed.

Grace flopped down onto the bed in a heap. "I’m so tired, I could just fall asleep right here." she giggled, crawling under the covers head first.

Carmine arched one eyebrow as she watched her sister’s form disappearing beneath the bed clothes. "How much wine did you have down there?" she asked, rubbing her chin.

Grace appeared again, her head poking out of the covers only a fraction of an inch. "I do believe I am in the wrong room."

Carmine shook her head. "Come here, take that veil off. I’ll brush your hair."

Grace obliged, suddenly very serious. "I am drunk, but not so drunk that I have forgotten what is expected of me. My wifely duty." she said quietly. "I am frightened."

Carmine carefully untangled the long braid, combing out tangles as she went. "Don’t be frightened. It’s nothing to be frightened of." she tried to think of a way to explain the act to her sister, without making her more scared than she already was. "You liked kissing Armus, did you not?"

Grace didn’t blush this time, only nodded earnestly. "It was wonderful."

"Then you have nothing to worry about." Carmine said, combing the seeds flung by the guests out of the thick blonde hair.

"The nuns said it hurt." Grace said quietly, and Carmine sighed.

"Curse the damned nuns!" she said, and Grace laughed, not believing the profanity that had just come from her sister’s mouth. "They know nothing of it, and yet they insist on scaring the daylights out of young girls who have no way of knowing otherwise." she stopped brushing for a moment, to look her sister in the eye. "It will hurt, a little. It’s not unbearable. And it’s necessary."

"Necessary?" Grace asked, a puzzled expression on her face.

Carmine nodded. "So that your husband knows that you still have your virtue...you haven’t been spoiled."

"It makes sense." Grace agreed. "But what is the purpose?" she asked timidly.

Carmine hugged her sister by the shoulders. "So that it may plant a son in your womb." she sat back, still grasping her sister’s shoulders. "You will make a fine mother, and Armus a fine father to your children." she looked away, unable to bear the thought of what was to occur the next day.

"There is so much I still don’t know." Grace said, her eyes wide.

"Your husband must explain some of it...that is how it is. Don’t worry, though. This is nothing to get upset about." Carmine finished brushing her sister’s hair, and planted a kiss on her forehead. "I will send your maids to ready you for bed."

Carmine encountered Armus on the stairs, just moments after she had seen that her sister was safely tucked into bed.

"My lord, she is young, and innocent." she said suddenly, catching him off guard.

Armus nodded, his expression reassuring. "I understand."

Carmine nodded and turned away quickly. Armus watched her go, then turned back towards the top of the stairs. He approached his chambers slowly, and watched as a serving maid left the room and closed the door quietly. She bowed quickly to Armus, then hurried back to her original post.

Outside the door, Armus hesitated. He never would have opened the door had another servant not come bustling along, giving him a strange look. He pushed the door open slowly, only as far as was necessary to enter, and closed it behind him.

At the sound of the door, Grace sat up, clutching the bedclothes to her chest. Firelight illuminated her form, giving her skin a warm, golden glow. Her eyes were large, but she was trying to cover her nervousness.

Armus crossed to the bed, and sat down next to her. "Well, I do believe that I should like this marriage arrangement. How about you?" he asked nervously, kicking off his boots.

Grace stared back at him, unsure of herself. "I’m drunk."

Armus laughed, and Grace giggled as well. "That’s a good start." he laughed, and she laughed more. Soon they were both laughing, infected by each other’s mirth. Armus leaned back on the bed, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

Grace looked at him, laying so close to her, completely at ease now. She leaned down and kissed him, thrilling at the sensation that she was becoming used to.

Armus opened his eyes in surprise, then closed them again as he sat up, wrapping one arm around her waist.

No long mindful of the bed clothes that she had been holding so modestly in front of herself, Grace flung her arms around Armus’s neck, letting him crush her to his chest with one strong arm. With the other arm he gently cradled her head as he leaned her back against the pillows, settling atop her. The fabric of the bedclothes, along with his own clothes, seemed to separate them by miles, and Armus groaned.

"Wait, just one moment." he said between kisses.

Grace watched him, unflinching, as he removed his doublet and soft leather breeches. He climbed underneath the blankets with her, clad only in his thin linen hose. Grace had never seen any man undressed like this, even her brother when they were children. She moved away a bit as he climbed in next to her, and he smiled a nervous smile.

"Come here, Grace, it’s all right." he said, putting one arm around her waist.

Grace blushed and let him pull her to him, gasping at the feeling of his bare flesh against hers. He leaned down and kissed her again, more urgently this time, slipping his tongue into her yielding mouth.

Her head reeling, Grace pressed her palms to Armus’s chest, pulling away. "I don’t know what is happening...I think it might be the wine, but I feel very...strange." she said, flopping onto her back, one arm flung across her eyes.

Armus laughed and rolled over on top of her, pinning her beneath him. She squirmed playfully, and Armus thought it might be his undoing. He kissed her again, and she responded eagerly, throwing her arms around his neck and parting her legs ever so slightly, allowing Armus to lay above her without crushing her.

Grace gasped as his kisses trailed to her neck, leaving warm, throbbing spots down her shoulder, to her elbow, then finally to her wrist. She sighed as he kissed her pulse point there, and clutched at his shoulder with her other hand.

Armus leaned back down, kissing again on the mouth, harder this time, and Grace broke away, her lips finding the way to his earlobe. She flicked her tongue out quickly at first, experimenting, and was delighted with the sharp gasp it illicit from Armus. She gently nibbled on his ear, moving down his neck. He ground his hips into hers and she gasped at the evidence of his need for her.

"Is that how you will put a child in me?" she asked timidly, reaching down to touch him shyly through the linen breeches.

Armus groaned and moved her hand away, kissing her forehead gently. "Yes...you know nothing about this?" he asked, smoothing her hair back from her face.

"Nothing." Grace admitted, looking away. "How?"

Armus gently trailed his fingertips from one of her shoulders to the other, making her shudder. He laid down beside her, trailing his fingertips into the valley between her breasts, then back up, cupping one delicate globe in his hand. He ran his thumb over the rosy peak of her breast, making her breath catch. He slid his hand lower, over her gently rounded stomach, down her leg to the knee and back again, to cup the mound of flesh at the juncture of her thighs. She surveyed his face intently, her eyes no longer wide and scared, but knowing and hungry. "How?" she asked again, and he slid one finger into her, making her gasp.

"There." Armus said, breathing heavily, his eyes never leaving her face as he withdrew his finger, only to plunge it into her again. She was warm and ready, and completely yielding. It was all Armus could do to keep from taking her then, relieving his own need. He remembered Carmine’s words on the stairs, and took a deep breath.

"Armus..." Grace whispered, unsure of herself, and the feelings coursing through her body.

In a moment Armus was above her again, kicking his linen hose aside, losing them somewhere in the tangle of bedclothes. "Grace...it will hurt...but it will pass. Do you trust me?" he asked, kissing her forehead again.

"Yes." she said, her voice sounding shy and unsure. "Yes, I trust you, Armus." she said again, more confident the second time. She wrapped her arms around his massive back, pressing her face into the hollow of his shoulder.

She gasped when he entered her, but the slight burning pain was replaced by a warm, full, complete feeling. Armus held still inside her, allowing her to get used to the feeling of him. After a moment, she kissed him on the cheek.

"And to think I was afraid of that this whole time." she whispered, and Armus laughed inspire of himself. "It’s actually quite nice."

"It gets better." he said, kissing her and moving inside of her.

She gasped, bringing her legs up around his waist. "To think I was afraid of this." she breathed again, laying back against the pillows.

Carmine fastened her cloak around her shoulders, her mouth set in a grim line. "Must we go through with this?" she asked James, who was donning his gloves. "They were so happy this morning. We have other sisters."

James laughed. "And which one of them would bring so adoring a husband? The dull wit, or the one with the lazy eye?"

The way her brother was speaking of their sisters at home at Winterbourne sickened her. "I don’t like this, James."

James grabbed his sister by the shoulders. "Do you think I want to inherit nothing but a decade’s worth of debts? Just come downstairs, trip on the stair on the way out, and feign a foot injury. It’s not too much to ask, is it?"

Carmine glared at him. "Certainly not. I wouldn’t want you to have to face up to your financial mistakes like an honest man."

James pushed her away from him and watched her stride from the room.

"Armus, must we really go?" Grace asked, snuggling up to him in the empty hall.

Armus clucked his tongue. "What if your brother came along, or my father? You wouldn’t look very ladylike, would you?"

Grace feigned a pout, stepping back. Armus pulled her back to him and kissed her until she felt she couldn’t breathe.

"Good morning." Carmine said, an amused smile on her face at finding her innocent little sister in such a passionate embrace. "I trust you...slept well." she arched an eyebrow at Armus, and laughed. Grace blushed, hiding behind Armus.

James came down the hallway a moment later, his black cloak fastened securely around his shoulders. "Shall we then?" he asked with a smile. Carmine glared at him, but it went unnoticed by Grace and Armus.

"Yes, I believe we shall." Carmine said, starting down the stairs. Halfway down James nudged her in the back, and she cried out.

"Carmine, are you all right?" Grace called, and Carmine nodded. "I seem to have hurt my foot. I don’t imagine I will be able to ride today."

James took his sister by the hand. "Oh, dear, I’m sure you’ll be all right. You are sure you won’t join us."

"No brother, I won’t be joining you." she said coldly. She limped up the stairs, past Armus and Grace. "Please accept my apologies." she said earnestly, before continuing to hobble up the stairs.

"That is a shame." Grace said quietly, sensing something was not right between her brother and sister. "James, did you and Carmine have a falling out? Should I go talk to her?"

James laughed, shaking his head. "No, dear Grace, we are right as rain, I assure you."

Armus looked from James to Grace, wondering something was indeed amiss. When Grace smiled, swayed by her brother’s reassurances, he banished the thought. It was natural suspicion, he decided. He only wanted to protect her.

Soon after, the three sat astride their mounts, the warm afternoon sun filtering through the red gold leaves. Grace road next to her husband, but slightly behind him, so that he might talk to James. She looked at the canopy of thick leaves above her, a collage of red and yellow and brown and orange. Mostly she looked at her husband, who looked even more handsome carrying on a friendly conversation with her brother.

Suddenly, two enormous hands were around her waist, dragging her from her mount. She screamed for Armus, who turned immediately.

"Grace!" he shouted, riding up to the man who held his wife. He unsheathed the dagger that James had not noticed and bashed the man in the head with the heavy metal handle.

"Damnit, the arrangement was that no harm was to come to me!" the man shouted at James, dropping Grace. She scrambled back to Armus, who scooped her up into the saddle in front of him.

"You should have run." he whispered, but she only shook her head, throwing her arms around his neck.

"What is the meaning of this?" James asked, barely controlling his rage.

The man scratched his head gingerly. "You told me that I had to grab the girl, take her off, and no harm would come to me."

James looked quickly from the man to Armus, who looked at him grimly. "This man is quite obviously insane....he’s a raving lunatic..." he trailed off, then looked to the man. "Take them both. Kill him if you must, but don’t harm her."

Grace clutched Armus’s tunic, crying. "It will be all right." Armus whispered into her ear as six more men, this time armed, stepped from the bushes.

"Why are you doing this?" cried Grace. Armus put a hand on the back of her head, pulling her to his chest.

"Hostages require a ransom. As the Grey’s coffers are full, and the Winterbourne’s empty, there is naught for me to do now but go back to Covington Cross, distraught by my loss and thankful for my miraculous escape, for which my dear, new brother gave his life for." James chuckled.

Armus glared at him in pure rage. "And what about Grace? You can’t kill her as well, your own sister."
James laughed. "Naturally, after your valiant laying down of your life for mine, she will blame me for your death. Stricken with grief, people will believe she has gone mad," he smiled, then clapped his hands, "I forgot the part where your father, hoping for Grace’s safe return, hands over the deed to the Barbican! It is then delivered anonymously to John Mullens. This of course indicates him in this heinous crime. You understand, with the plan becoming so, well, tangled up in the span of a few short minutes, I had to adjust some of the details."

"Of course," Armus said coldly.

"If it is of any comfort, you were to be spared in the original plan." James said, knocking his horse forward a few steps. "Kill him." he shouted to the men standing along the roadside. "Spare my sister." he urged his horse into a gallop, leaving them behind

"James!" Grace cried after him, tears rolling down her cheeks. "James, come back!"

One of the armed men stepped forward, placing the tip of his sword at Armus’s throat. "Climb down." the man growled.

Armus took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He leaned down, kissing Grace on the forehead before dismounting.

"Armus!" Grace cried, watching helplessly as his hands were tied.

Armus looked up at her, his expression calm but his eyes frightened. "I love you."

Grace closed her eyes, pressing a hand to her forehead in despair. "I love you, I’m so sorry." she sobbed. A strong arm pulled her from her horse, and she didn’t fight back.

"Grace!" Armus called to her as she was lead away from the roadside. She turned back, her eyes locking with his. He said nothing more, only managed a feeble smile. She closed her eyes and turned away, allowing the men to lead her into the woods.

"What’s happened, where’s Armus?" Sir Thomas shouted upon seeing James enter the hall.

"We were attacked on the road! They...they took Grace...Armus is...." James broke down, burying his face in his hands.

Carmine looked down from the staircase, her eyes wide. Her brother’s plan had obviously not worked out. "James, what happened?" she demanded, running to him.

"Sister, I can’t...right now." he said, shooting her a warning glance that was unnoticed by Sir Thomas.

"Sir Thomas, I must speak with you!" Carmine said, ignoring her brother.

Sir Thomas stared at her as if she were speaking Greek. "I think the issue at hand is finding my son, and your sister."

Carmine grabbed Sir Thomas’s arm as he turned away from her. "If you do not listen to me, then you may never see your son alive again."

Something in her pleading face convinced Sir Thomas. "You have news."

Carmine looked at her brother’s steely cold gaze. "My brother was planning to rob you...to have Grace held for ransom. Obviously something has gone amiss."

Sir Thomas turned to James. "Is this true?"

"She’s lying. She’s quite mad, I regret bringing her." he said, glaring at his sister.

Carmine held her breath. It was all in Sir Thomas’s hands now. He motioned two guards over. "Take them both to the dungeon." he ordered.

Armus leaned down, hands on his knees. The moment’s respite would soon have to be abandoned, as the sound of footsteps thundering through the underbrush grew closer.

He had no idea how it had happened. They had stopped for a rest, as they had been walking for half the day, and before Armus knew it he had worked his hands free and broken into a run through the forest. He was back tracking now, trying to make it back to the road and hopefully follow the two men who had taken Grace. If she had been harmed in any way.... He pushed the thought aside, trying to ignore the feeling of despair that gnawed at his stomach. He began to run again, grateful to finally see a break in the thick foliage, where a huge oak tree trunk had fallen.

Armus stooped to inspect the trunk. The inside was hollow, eroded by rain and pests. He looked back over his shoulder, the sounds of the men getting closer and closer. He quickly laid down and squirmed into the trunk, until none of him could be seen. The footsteps thundered past him, then silenced altogether. He lay in the trunk for a moment or two more, not wanting to emerge too soon.

Crawling from his hiding spot, he first ran towards the road. His every instinct was to run to Grace, make sure she was safe, and rescue her from her captors before the ransom could be delivered into James’s eager hands.

Common sense told Armus that he should first go to Covington Cross and see that James was safely locked in the dungeon. He looked toward the road, his heart torn between the woman he loved and his loyalty to his family. He turned back to the forest and began to run towards Covington Cross.

Grace leaned her forehead against the trunk of the tree she knelt next to and cried softly. The two men who had brought her here had effectively tied her hands behind her and bound her mouth with a gag. Her mind reeled, filled with memories of the last few days that she couldn’t block from her consciousness. She thought of walking with Armus in the garden, of when he had given her the pearls the night before the wedding, his muddled vows at the ceremony. She felt a single tear roll down her face. The unfairness of it all made her angry. She had fallen in love at first sight with the man she had married, and for that she counted herself lucky. To have her brother use her to deceive the man she loved, and now to have him killed, made her blood run cold in her veins.

"The little lady seems distressed." One of the men said with a laugh. He approached her slowly, and she flinched as he reached out to stroke her cheek with one dirty hand. "Don’t worry...we won’t hurt you. We may have a bit of fun with you, but we won’t hurt you." he said, and the two men laughed crudely.

Grace tried to scoot away from him, only succeeding in tipping herself over. She closed her eyes, ignoring the men’s laughter. The pain she felt in her heart far outweighed her anger toward these men. She no longer cared about escaping, not wanting to return to Covington Cross.

If she returned, she would certainly hear of Armus’s death.

Armus ran towards the horses thundering down the road. "Richard, Cedric! It’s me!" he shouted at his brothers, who came to a sudden stop.

Richard dismounted, running to his brother. "James said you were dead!" he cried, enveloping Armus in a tight hug. "I didn’t think we’d find you!"

"Father has Lord Winterbourne and Lady Whiteby in the dungeon. They plotted all of this." Cedric said, tethering the horses to the trees nearby.

Armus shook his head. "It doesn’t matter now. Two of the men took Grace that way, into the forest. If we could come up on them, surprise them, we could grab Grace and escape."

Richard nodded. "Cedric, you go into the forest, find where they are."

"Follow those tracks there!" Armus shouted after Cedric. "There’s no time to loose."

Armus ran a hand through his hair, frustrated at having to wait. "The sun will be setting soon. The night will provide us the cover we need." he said, pacing in the road.

Richard put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. "She will be all right." he said, and Armus nodded, his expression grim.

"If she has been harmed, her brother will not live to see his own hanging." he said, clenching his fists. "I will see to that myself."

After what seemed like hours Cedric returned, out of breath. "I wasn’t spotted. There are still only two, though they talked about more joining them in the morning." he gasped.

"Lead the way, Cedric." Richard said, and the group quickly and quietly made their way through the forest.

Grace looked up at the stars through a clearing in the leaves above her. The men had made a fire, but she was too far from it to benefit from it’s warmth. A shiver racked her body, but she remained as still as possible, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

"Cold, are we my lady?" one of the men asked with a chuckle. "I know how to warm you right up." he stood and advanced on her, as she tried in vain to scramble away.

In a moment, he was pressing her back into the hard ground, the broken twigs digging mercilessly into her flesh. She strained against her bonds, struggling to get her hands free to claw at him, to punch him, anything to get him away from her. He forced his knee between her legs, effectively pinning her.

"She has spirit, I’ll tell you that." called the other man with a laugh.

The man on top of her slapped her, grabbing her shoulders and pushing them harder against the ground. "Hold still!" he shouted at her, and she gagged at the smell of his breath, all rotting teeth and mead.

In a flash the man was gone, his hard weight replaced by a cool rush of air. Sitting up she struggled to comprehend. If it hadn’t been for the gag she would have shouted for joy at the sight before her. Richard and Cedric held the second man on the ground, binding his hands. Her attacker lay unconscious from a vicious blow to the head.

Armus helped her to her feet, pulling the gag from her mouth. He grabbed her up in his arms and kissed her, taking her breath away.

"I thought I’d never see you again!" she cried as he cut the ropes that bound her sore wrists.

"Nor I you." he admitted weakly, embracing her again.

Cedric stepped forward, kicking the unconscious man as he did so. "I hate to interrupt, but there is the small manner of the other bandits. They are somewhere in the forest."

Richard nodded. "He’s right. Armus, you take Grace on my horse, he’s stronger than Cedric’s." he turned to Cedric. "I guess that means you and I are going to get rather cozy on the ride back."

They laughed, and Armus swooped Grace up over his shoulder. "Sorry, love, but we are in a bit of a hurry." he said, hurrying from the clearing.

"When we get out of here, be assured that you will have no place at Winterbourne!" James thundered at his sister, who sat huddled in the corner of their cell.

Carmine gingerly felt her eye, where James had struck her. She had nothing to say to her brother. The sun was coming up, and Carmine swore that night had lasted twice as long as it ever did. She hoped that somehow Armus had escaped unscathed, regardless of what her brother had told her had transpired.

"James?"

Carmine looked up. Her brother was frozen in shock.

"Grace?" he asked hesitantly, moving to the bars.

Carmine rose. Grace stood before the bars, her face dirty and bruised, her clothes torn. "James, did you plan all this?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.

"I did." James said, his tone cold and formal.

Grace nodded. "And you, Carmine. You knew of this."

Carmine smiled sadly. "I wish I could have stopped it."

Grace looked from her brother to her sister. "It’s hard to imagine, that you both came from my mother, my father." she moved closer to the bars. "I love you, sister, more than you can imagine." she said, her eyes filling with tears. "But I cannot pardon you from these crimes."

Carmine nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I wish you every happiness." she said, and Grace managed a small smile.

"Thank you. I love you." she said, before turning and running from the room.

Armus rested his head against the back of the wash tub, content to soak his weary muscles until the dropping water temperature forced him out.

The door creaked open, but he ignored it, closing his eyes. It was only when he felt a small hand on his shoulder that he opened his eyes.

"Grace, you should be asleep." he said, sitting up.

She shook her head. The bruise on her face was more prominent now, but the dirt had been scrubbed from her face, and the dry leaves untangled from her hair. Standing in her linen nightgown she looked peaceful, as if the days events had been erased. "I couldn’t sleep....I didn’t want to be alone." she said, kneeling beside the bathtub. "Will my brother and sister hang?"

Armus sighed, stroking her hair absently. "I don’t know. It’s in the hands of king Edward now." he said softly. "There is nothing to be done about that now."

Grace closed her eyes. "It seems so unfair."

Armus nodded. "I am here, as are my brothers and sister. You are a Grey now. You will never be without a family." he rolled his eyes, laughing, "No matter how you may wish to be rid of them."

Grace laughed, standing. "Well, my lord husband, I believe I will go to bed. Will you join me?"

Armus reached his arm out, snagging her around the waist. "How about joining me?" he laughed, pulling Grace into the tub with him, nightgown and all.

She shrieked, and tried to scramble free, finally relenting and kissing him. "I think I shall like you, Armus." she chided.

"I should most certainly hope so." he said, kissing her forehead. "I should most certainly hope so."