Ink and Steel

“Tis empty, though without a man.” A

His mouth on her neck, tracing the line of her hair, the dints along her spine. “I should not attempt such cruelty.” He strung something about her throat, the soft, lingering touch of his fingers, a stroke as of satin. “I have confessions, A

“Confessions?”

“Aye.” He was knotting a silken ribbon, a braid of red and black and green. Something that weighed like an acorn hung upon it; she slipped her hand beneath. A silken pouch no bigger than her thumb. “A

She held her breath. “And now do not?”

He turned her in his arms and looked into her eyes. Curious, she reached up to touch the golden earring that adorned him. He smiled at the touch. “And love thee more than ever I could have told thee. I, Will, love thee to wordlessness.”

“Never hast thou been wordless,” she answered, and kissed his nose to make him smile like that again.

“A

“No,” Will said, and pulled her close. And kissed her on the mouth. “A man.”

She wanted to jerk away, retreat to the corner between the clothespress and the bed. But his hands were on her wrists, and he held her tight, with a strength she didn’t remember in him. “A man.”

“Aye,” he said. “I won’t, won’t lie to thee. I loved him, and I love him still. And more.”

She steeled herself to stand motionless in his embrace, wondering if he could feel the thunder of her heart. So there’s a reason for his fevered kisses. “Will, I’d not have thought thee so capably cruel….”

“The man I love is no mortal, but an Elf-knight, a warlock. A creature of the Fae. And under a geas, that I may never touch him. No, nor any other, until his curse be lifted.” A

“No,” Will said. He stepped back and touched the silk hung at the hollow of her throat. “No, I tell thee so thou wilt understand what he has given me. This man. This knight.”

She reached up and caught his wrist. “What? He’s bought thee from me for a bit of silk?”

“No, A

“Judith is nearly fourteen,” she said softly. “What canst thy meaning be?”

He pushed her nightgown down over her shoulders as he kissed her again, without restraint this time. Despite her confusion, she gave herself up to the kiss, buried her fingers in his hair, tasted mutton and onions on his tongue. “Witches have spells for causing barre

Author’s Note (brief version)This is the first of two tightly linked novels, a duology collectively knownas The Stratford Man. The second book, Hell and Earth, will be published in August 2008. A complete Author’s Note and Acknowledgements enumerating this narrative sextensive historical and linguistic malfeasances and encompassing asemi-exhaustive list of who may be assessed for the same may be found at theend of the second book.

About the Author

Originally from Vermont and Co