"Aye. A great deal of sense."

"It hit me like a cudgel. 'Twas as if I suddenly realized what I'd been doing. The next few days were a nightmare for me. I dreaded having to go into battle again. I didn't think I'd have the stomach to aim my crossbow at someone. I didn't know if I should." His back expanded as he took a deep breath. "I confided in a friend of mine, an archer. He told me that sort of thing happens from time to time, but that there was a cure for it. He gave me..." Luke shook his head and swore softly under his breath.

"What did he give you?"

Luke sat in silence for several long moments. "Herbs," he said tonelessly. "A mixture of them, to chew before battle. Catnip, mostly."

"Catnip. 'Tis a vile plant. 'Twill make you-"

"A monster. Or rather, more of a monster than I already was." He shook his head. "'Twas most effective. It roused the blood-thirst within me, and to a degree I'd never imagined before. Now, not only did I not care about the killing, I couldn't even remember it afterward. But the men would tell me what I'd done, how wild I'd been, how ferocious. To hear them tell it, I was the ultimate soldier-a hero. But I never felt much like a hero in my b.l.o.o.d.y chain mail, shaking from the aftereffects of a battle I couldn't even recall."

She made a sound of disgust. "A loathsome plant, catnip. And dangerous. It incites madness."

"In me, it merely reawakened the madness lurking deep inside. I've always harbored a beast in my breast. The herbs simply unlocked it from its cage."

"Nonsense."

He turned and stared at her incredulously. "I beg your-"

"Complete nonsense. Catnip's notorious for taking sane men and turning them into murderous animals. Other herbs do much the same, and no doubt they were all in that mixture. What you became was the product of the herbs you chewed. It came from outside of you, not from within."

"Nay, I'd always been without scruples on the battlefield."

"Until that day in the castle courtyard," she pointed out. "You'd matured. You'd developed a conscience, an awareness of yourself and your actions. You'd changed."

Luke looked in her direction, but not at her. His gaze was preoccupied, as if he were spinning her words around in his mind, examining them from every angle.

"You didn't want to go on," she said, "but then you started chewing the catnip and you had no choice. It imposed the blood-thirst on you after you'd grown out of it."

He met her gaze. "'Twould be comforting to accept what you say, but 'twould be false consolation, I fear. My soul is as black as pitch."

"Truly? How is it, then, that I've managed to fall in love with such a demon?"

He blinked at her.

"I've never been much drawn to black-hearted beasts before," she added, caressing his scratchy jaw.

"Aye, well, I've managed to keep my darker nature in check since coming to Hauekleah."

"Your darker nature has not emerged," she said, "because it's long gone. And you no longer chew those despicable herbs, so your own good nature-your true nature-has finally had the opportunity to a.s.sert itself."

He closed his eyes and tilted his head, rubbing his face against her palm. "I'd love to believe you."

"Believe me," she whispered. "And ease your mind. You are a good man, else I wouldn't care for you as I do. I wouldn't want to give myself to you. I wouldn't want to have your children, and grow old with you."

"Ah, Faithe." Luke slid a hand around her neck and drew her close, kissing her until she grew lightheaded. He lowered her into the straw and they kissed endlessly, caressing each other with slow, dreamy hands.

When at last they drew apart, breathless, she said, "You see? All is well. All is wonderful. 'Tis just as I said before. Naught is amiss. The past is gone. There is no more Black Dragon. There's just us."

"Just us," he whispered, lightly stroking her face. "Nothing matters but us."

"Whatever you were in the past, whatever the herbs turned you into, whatever they made you do, no longer exists."

He closed his eyes, his forehead creased, his jaw tight.

"Anything you did under their influence," she said, "cannot blacken your soul. G.o.d is merciful. He understands all."

Luke sighed heavily and wrapped his arms around her, tucking her up against him. "That's why I like Ma.s.s. I can immerse myself in the ritual and feel almost worthy of redemption. I can feel at one with G.o.d."

She nodded. "That's how I feel when I look out over Hauekleah's pastures and meadows in the late afternoon, when the sun is low and the shadows are long. I'm afraid I find Ma.s.s an utter waste of time."

"Aye, I can tell from the way you squirm about on your bench, forever turning to look out the door, as if the day is pa.s.sing you by."

"That's precisely how I feel in church."

"I know. I know everything about you."

"What do you know about me?"

"I know that you like it when I do this." He plucked her nipple, sparking a current of arousal between her legs.

"Luke!" she gasped, pushing his hand away. "Don't do that. I won't be able to talk to you, and I like talking to you."

"I like it, too. But I like other things, as well." His hands roamed over her, through her unkempt kirtle and beneath it. "You're very... pa.s.sionate. I hadn't expected... that is, I've never been with a woman who... well, who..."

She laid her palm on his cheek, hot as an oven. "Are you blushing?"

He turned his head, smiling in an engagingly grudging way.

"You are," she exclaimed with delight, rising on her elbows to look down upon him. "How perfectly splendid! I've made Luke de Perigueux blush!"

His broad chest shook with laughter; he encircled her with his arms. "It's just that I've never known a lady to speak so openly of such matters."

"Does it displease you?" she asked, honestly wanting to know.

He shook his head slightly, never losing eye contact. "It intrigues me," he said softly. "Everything about you intrigues me."

She smiled. "Everything?"

"Everything. What's in here..." Luke lightly tapped a finger against her forehead. "And here." He pressed his hand over the inner curve of her left breast, where her heart was, and then grinned. "And under here." Snaking his hand up under her skirt, he burrowed his fingers through the hair at the juncture of her thighs.

"Mmm." Faithe stretched with delight as he stroked the moist seam with a whisper-light touch. She was instantly breathless. "I like your fingers. They're a little rough. When you touch me there, I want to jump out of my skin."

He smiled slowly as he continued his wispy caress. "You're so responsive. It's very exciting. I thought I was going to scream, at the end, when you... well..."

She glided a fingertip down his nose. "When I came?"

"G.o.d's bones, woman." He laughed in evident astonishment.

"You did scream."

"Did I?" His fingers stilled, and then continued brushing her cleft with patient fingertips; she felt her sensitized flesh swell and open.

"'Twas more of a sort of very loud groan. I loved it. I wished it could go on and on and on. I wished I could come forever and ever, with you inside me."

"I can't think I'd object to the situation," he said wryly, "if you could think of some way to arrange it."

She chuckled, trying to keep her mind on their banter even as she reveled in his touch. "I shall put my mind to the matter."

"I've never been with a woman when... that happened to her."

"Never? Alex said you'd been with many women."

He grimaced, but she sensed amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes. "I must have a talk with Alex. Yes, I've been with many women. Most soldiers have."

"Prost.i.tutes," she said.

He nodded. "They like to get things over with and get their coins. There's little pleasure in it for them, from what I've been able to gather. Nor do they seek it. 'Twould only slow things down."

"How sad."

He seemed to ponder that. "Yes, I suppose it is sad. I never thought about it much at the time. I mean, I knew they were missing something by not... finishing. But it never occurred to me that I was missing something as well. I reckoned 'twas enough that I took my pleasure. I never knew how it could feel to be inside a woman when she..." His eyes grew dark, his blush deepened.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking I'd like to feel it again."

"Would you?"

"Oh, yes." Luke nudged her slightly. She felt an insistent stirring against her thigh, and her heart sped up.

She'd never known anyone so thoroughly masculine. His body thrilled and intrigued her-especially now that he'd been inside her. He was sizable everywhere, she now knew, including that part of him steadily hardening against her.

"Tell me how to touch you," he said, rolling her onto her back, "to make it happen."

Faithe covered his big hand with hers and guided a fingertip to the half-hidden little knot of flesh where her desire was concentrated. She sucked in a breath when he stroked it.

"Here?" he breathed raggedly. "Like this?"

"Mmm... but perhaps a little softer, and to the side a bit. You need barely... yes..."

He caressed her until she writhed, handfuls of straw clutched in her trembling fists. "Like that. Yes."

"And this?" he asked, circling the little nub with quickening fingers. "Is this-"

"Yes!" A tempest of sensation gathered inside her, like a storm ready to explode from the heavens. Insensible with pleasure, she moaned unself-consciously.

"Oh, Faithe." He kicked off his braies. "Not yet. I want to feel it when it happens." She thought he was going to mount her, but instead, he lay on his side next to her. Draping her outside leg over his, he pushed into her, just enough to stretch her open, all the while pleasuring her with his hand.

Her body expanded around him as he entered her by maddening degrees, enhancing the stimulation. Her breath came in harsh gasps; her head rolled back and forth in the straw. "Luke... Luke..."

"Now," he gasped, sliding in to the hilt. "Come for me now." Luke touched the little knot directly, and her body convulsed around him, rioting with pleasure. "Oh, G.o.d." He grabbed her hips, pounding into her, his head thrown back. With every stabbing thrust, he groaned harshly, until the groans merged into a single strangled cry of fulfillment. His body tightened as he rammed himself deep inside her, his seed pumping against her womb.

Gasping for air, Faithe collapsed in the straw. Dull thunder filled her ears, overpowering all her other senses. Presently, she became aware of trembling fingertips on her face. "Are you all right?"

She growled contentedly. "Oh, yes."

He sighed in evident relief and drew himself out of her, gathering her up in his arms. "I was too... rough at the end. 'Twas wonderful." He dragged a shaky hand through her hair and kissed her forehead. "Too wonderful. I was afraid I'd hurt you, or... upset you." Shaking his head, he added, "I shouldn't have lost control like that."

"Foolish man." She curled into his embrace. "You're supposed to lose control. That's the point. We're supposed to lose control together."

He chuckled breathily. "You do have a way of putting things."

"You could never hurt me-or upset me."

He stiffened slightly. "I've spent a lifetime hurting and upsetting people. 'Tis a difficult habit to break."

"That wasn't you," she said resolutely. "'Twas the Black Dragon, and he doesn't exist anymore. He vanished when you ceased chewing those herbs of yours."

He lay quietly for a moment, lightly rubbing her arm. "Perhaps. Still, I dread what might happen if I don't keep myself reined in."

She pulled back to look at him. "Even when you're inside me?"

"Especially then. You're not like... the women I'm used to. I'm not quite sure how to make love to someone like you."

"You seem to have managed fairly well so far," she said dryly.

He snorted. "Merely because you're so forgiving of my lack of delicacy."

She laughed outright. "There are many things I might want from you in bed, Luke de Perigueux, but delicacy isn't one of them!"

"Exasperating wench!" He chuckled. "You know what I mean."

"Unfortunately, yes. And I want none of it. Lovemaking should be joyous and without restraint."

"I've trained myself to exercise restraint," he said. "I'm afraid to abandon it now. You mean too much to me."

"Foolish, foolish, foolish man." Rising onto an elbow, she ran a light fingertip down his forehead and nose; when it reached his lips, he kissed it. "One of these days," she threatened softly, "I shall have to seize those reins you've got such a tight grip on, and show you what it's like to let go of them."

His gaze darkened. "Are you sure that would be a good idea?"

Smiling, she lowered her mouth to his, whispering against his lips, "Quite sure."

Chapter 15.