He insisted on not waking her, regretting the disappointment evident on his mother’s face. “It’s better if you meet her when she’s rested,” he said by way of an excuse.
He laid her on the bed in the chamber prepared for her. Satisfied Margene would take care of his beloved, he left her reluctantly with the lady’s maid and went to see his parents awaiting him in the Map Room. As he approached the door, he overheard his mother’s excitement.
“She’s a prospective bride, Ram. I know it. Why else would he bring a Norman noblewoman here? Antoine intimated Robert was detained by matters of the heart. I can’t wait to meet her properly. I scarcely got to see her face. She must be ill.”
“Be calm, Mabelle,” his father replied. “Don’t get too excited. Let’s wait and see. He’s coming primarily to bring us news of the Grand Council.”
Robert cleared his throat loudly and entered.
Baudoin, Caedmon and Rhoni were with his parents. Ronan had insisted his wife remain in England while matters were so volatile in Normandie. His brothers greeted him, then he embraced his sister. “Rhoni, little Welsh woman, you grow more beautiful every time I see you.”
She smiled. “You’re a tease Robert, but I love you for it.”
“Robert, mon fils,” his father embraced him. “I’m always relieved to see you arrive safely. It’s not an easy journey. How fares your traveling companion?”
“She’s well, all things considered,” he replied vaguely. “Perhaps we can talk about her later. We must discuss the situation in Normandie. Antoine told you most of what occurred?”
For the next two hours, they discussed the arguments and counter arguments expressed at the Council. Robert confided he had not wanted to support Henry, but now thought better of it. “I’ve committed our resources and our men to Henry, in accordance with your wishes, Papa,” he said confidently.
Ram shrugged. “I wish I was as sure of Henry’s success as you apparently are.”
Mabelle huffed impatiently. “Now, Robert, what of this noblewoman who has accompanied you? What role is she to play? I sense nervousness. Why did Antoine come in your stead?”
Robert’s jaw clenched. “She’s to play the role of my wife, Maman.”
Mabelle clasped her hands to her mouth and a squealing sound emerged. “Robert! I’m overjoyed—but you don’t seem to be. I sense a difficulty.”
Robert kept silent for a few minutes. He stood, walked over to his mother and took both her hands in his. He went down on one knee in front of her and looked into her eyes. “Maman, you know I would never do anything to hurt you or Papa. You can trust what I’m going to tell you isn’t said with any hurtful intent, nor with malice.”
* * *
Mabelle’s heart thudded in her ears. Seeing the desperation in Robert’s eyes, she knew deep down that whatever response she gave would affect all their lives. She braced herself, but was completely taken aback when he said calmly, “My betrothed’s name is Dorianne de Giroux.”
She hoped Robert had not perceived the flicker of horror in her eyes.
“I have no right to ask this of you, I know it will hurt you, but don’t I have as much right as you to hate the Giroux family? I love Dorianne and want her to bear my children, your grandchildren.”
No one spoke.
Rhoni seemed to be studying the elaborately tiled floor.
Baudoin’s voice broke the silence. “Robert, you’ve always been a brother I’ve looked up to and respected. I’ve never known you to make a decision that wasn’t in the best interests of our family. We’ve endured many challenges together. This is another, as is the coming war. I haven’t met Dorianne, but I know you would not propose marriage to a woman who would harm us as a family. This must have been a hard choice to make.”
The relief on Robert’s face as he embraced his brother brought tears to Mabelle’s eyes. Once more the taciturn son had surprised everyone with his perception and forthrightness.
She struggled to keep her voice steady. “We’ll face this together, Robert. I would meet this extraordinary young woman who has overcome your feelings about the family that has done ours much harm in the past.”
“I’ll bring her to the gallery on the morrow,” Robert said, rising to his feet and letting go of his mother’s trembling hand.
As soon as Robert left, Ram moved to embrace Mabelle. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ve faced many challenges in my life with you, Ram, but this is one that might defeat me. When I look at the girl I’ll be reminded of the miserable years I spent with my father, and of the horror of Phillippe de Giroux.”
He cradled her in his arms and rocked her. “And yet, Mabelle, you can look at Caedmon and not be reminded of my infidelity.”
Rhoni spoke up. “What’s the alternative, Maman? Will we reject her? If we do, we alienate Robert. He’s my brother. I won’t deny him his happiness.”
* * *
Dorianne was still experiencing some lingering discomfort the next day. She hadn’t slept well, nervous about meeting her beloved’s parents. Nevertheless, she determined to present a good impression. They would see she was the well brought up daughter of a Norman baron.
Robert held her hand tightly and introduced her. “Papa, maman, Baudoin, Caedmon, Rhoni, please welcome to our home my betrothed, Dorianne de Giroux. Dorianne, I present to you my father and mother, the Earl and Countess of Ellesmere, Ram and Mabelle de Montbryce, and my brothers, Baudoin and Caedmon, and my dear sister, Hylda Rhonwen. We call her Rhoni.”
Dorianne was struck immediately by the resemblance the four men shared. This was where Robert had inherited his dark good looks. She sensed hostility, especially from Robert’s mother, the woman whose father had caused the terrible feud.
Hoping her pain and exhaustion were not apparent, she curtseyed deeply and bowed her head. “Milord Earl and Countess, I thank you for welcoming me to your home.”
The earl took her hand and said formally, “Welcome to Ellesmere, Lady Dorianne.”
When she attempted to rise, the blood rushed to her head. She swayed as the room swam around her.
Robert’s father took hold of her elbow and helped her to a chair.
She flinched as she sat down heavily.
The countess rushed over. “What is it, my dear?”
Robert moved quickly to help Dorianne stand, and she recovered her equilibrium, horrified at what had happened. “She was harmed,” he said grimly.
“Harmed?” the earl exclaimed. “By whom?”
Robert had no choice. The look in his eyes said he would have to explain. “Her brother, Pierre. She didn’t want me to tell you. He whipped her. It brought on a fever.”
Rhoni gasped audibly.
Dorianne couldn’t hold back the tears of humiliation. What must these people think of her family? “But he has repented. He has seen the error of what he did. Ask Robert.”
Everyone looked at Robert whose face betrayed his doubt. Somehow, someday she would make Robert see her brother had repented.
The countess shook her head, the shock evident her voice. “Dorianne, you’re obviously as much a victim of the bitter feud between our families as we have been. I assume you were punished for caring for my son. You’ve been willing to undertake this arduous journey for his sake, despite your illness.” There was no trace of hostility in her voice as she said, “Robert, take this lovely young woman back to her chamber. She needs rest. Has Carys seen her yet?”
“Non, maman, I was trying to take care of her myself,” he replied sheepishly.
“You’re not a healer. Ask Carys to come at once.”
To Dorianne, she said softly, “Many years ago I suffered the consequences of my father’s anger towards your grandfather and the unspeakable things he perpetrated. This family, including Robert, have endured much because of it. Your family is obviously still tormented by the long held hatreds. You and I must lay that hatred to rest once and for all. It will keep trying to raise its ugly head, but we will defeat it.”
Dizzying relief swept over Dorianne on hearing these words from the countess. It was the truth, and she grieved her father might not put hatred aside. She was at once filled with hope and despair that she expressed with a simple, but heartfelt, “Merci, Comtesse.”
Robert spoke to his father. “I’ll wed Dorianne as soon as possible, Papa. I would prefer to have the ceremony here with you and Maman present. I want your blessing on this union. It’s vital for the good of my soul, and it will be important when we return to face the challenges awaiting us in Normandie. To be frank, we would have difficulty marrying in Normandie without her father’s permission.”
Smiling, the earl reassured his son. “Take Dorianne to her chamber and we’ll discuss preparations when you return.”
Robert escorted his betrothed and delivered her into the capable hands of Carys, the healer, daughter of Rhodri and Rhonwen.
Stolen Thunder
Baudoin was conflicted. He was immensely relieved his brother had at last brought home a woman he wanted to marry, a woman he obviously loved. The succession of the Norman lands and titles through Robert was vital.
However, it was typical of his older brother to come along and steal the thunder yet again, just as Baudoin was on the point of revealing his love for Carys to his parents.
After Robert’s stunning revelation, he decided it was time to act. When Carys emerged from Dorianne’s chamber later that day, he escorted her to the gallery and explained the situation.
She smiled. “Robert said nothing, but anyone can see he loves the woman.”
“Carys, I long for you,” he whispered in her ear, nibbling her earlobe.
She molded her body to his. “Baudoin, I want to be yours. I love to feel your strong arms around me.”
He fingered the ends of her chestnut hair and breathed in the scent of herbs and wholesomeness that was pure Carys. “We’ll be together my love, despite the obstacles,” he swore.
She took hold of his hands and put them to her lips. “My mother knows about us.”
His heart lurched. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s a perceptive woman who knows us both well. What did she say about your father?”
She twined her fingers in Baudoin’s. “She said there would be difficulties. I reminded her she and my father had difficulties to face when they fell in love.”
He pressed his need against her as they kissed. He traced his fingers over the contours of her breasts and reveled in her moan of arousal. He was elated he had been gifted with love and passion in a woman who longed to join her body to his, to become one with him.
“Will your father consent?”
Her eyes flashed. “You’re my destiny, Baudoin. I have known it since the moment I met you. My father is a great believer in destiny.”
He leaned his forehead against hers. “I wish I’d resolved this problem earlier. My mother probably believes I’m over my infatuation with you. Now Robert has presented our parents with the dilemma of Dorianne de Giroux.”
“Why not talk to Robert? He might sympathize with our plight.”
He hugged her tightly. “I’ll do that, wise Welsh woman.”
* * *
Left alone to ponder recent developments, Carys feared the possibility of losing Baudoin might overwhelm her. She’d loved him since she was a child. But childhood innocence had developed into a woman’s needs and longings. As she’d grown to womanhood, her parents had introduced her to many eligible young Welshmen. There had only ever been Baudoin.
She knew it, Baudoin knew it. Her mother had eventually acquiesced to Carys becoming Ellesmere’s healer, which meant Rhonwen too accepted Baudoin was her daughter’s destiny.
She’d been gifted since birth with healing abilities she herself didn’t always understand; in the same inevitable way, Baudoin was in her blood. His soul belonged to her.
She’d missed him more than she thought possible in the months he’d spent away in Asia Minor helping the earl in the dangerous search for his crusading half-brother.
She was aware Rhoni de Montbryce in particular had deemed Carys’s constant preoccupation with her brother a passing fancy. But that was before Rhoni had fallen in love with Ronan MacLachlainn. Then the disdainful rolling of the eyes had ceased.
For the past year, their clandestine trysts had become more frequent, and Baudoin made no effort to hide his growing impatience and frustration with the need for discretion.
She too was tired of the guilt that secrecy spawned and was certain both sets of parents were aware of what was going on.
On the other hand, once their relationship was out in the open, she had little doubt their fathers would fight tooth and nail to prevent a marriage. She returned to Dorianne’s chamber, hoping Robert could be persuaded to support their wish to truly be together.
* * *
After Carys settled her patient in an upholstered chair, she assured Robert that Dorianne’s health would improve with rest and loving care.
“I can give her that,” he replied with a smile. He had always liked Rhodri’s daughter, and could understand his brother’s obvious attraction to her. “Poor Baudoin,” he thought, “as if my marrying a Giroux isn’t a big enough problem, imagine if my brother insists he wants to wed Carys.”
After Carys’s departure, Robert dismissed Dorianne’s maid. Margene had been with the Montbryce family since childhood. She was the granddaughter of Giselle, Mabelle’s faithful maidservant and chatelaine for many years. There was censure in Margene’s eyes, but she bowed and left.
He sat with Dorianne for a while and they talked over his parents’ suggestions for the ceremony. It was planned to take place in three sennights in the church his father had commissioned. He did not want to be away from Saint Germain de Montbryce for such a long period, but at least then Dorianne would be fully recovered. It would give his parents some time to plan the wedding his mother deemed suitable for an earl’s eldest son.
He became pleasantly aroused sitting beside the woman he loved. He itched to run his hands over her body, to ignite the passion he sensed within her. The potion Carys had given her was taking effect. The healer had left behind some of her medicinals. He sauntered over to the sideboard to take a look, intrigued to find a vial of almond oil. He took out the stopper and inhaled deeply, an arousing vision playing with his thoughts. He brought the vial to Dorianne’s chair and knelt at her feet.
“Let me soothe you,” he whispered, slipping off her shoes and hose.
She closed her eyes.
He poured oil into his palm and rubbed his hands together to warm them. He took hold of one foot and massaged it, kissing her toes as he kneaded. He repeated his ministrations with the other foot.
She sighed contentedly. “No man has ever touched my feet before.”
Her words aroused him further. He massaged up her skirts to her knees, kissing each in turn and stroking the backs. He slowly moved his fingers further up her thighs. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him through long brown lashes. He flared his nostrils. The intoxicating scent of female arousal mingled with the aroma of the almond oil.
“Let me look at you, Dorianne,” he murmured as he lifted her and carried her to sit on the edge of the mattress.
She smiled shyly when he carefully peeled down the bodice of her gown to reveal perfect breasts straining at the light fabric of her shift. He bent to kiss her shoulder then trailed his kisses down to the nipple, suckling her through the fabric. Her moans aroused him further.
“May I undress you, my love?” he whispered. “I’ll be gentle.”
She stood as he lifted the gown and chemise over her head. Should he continue? Could he pleasure her without meeting his own needs? He sincerely wanted to save that experience for their wedding night.
He motioned for her to lie down, then put one knee on the bed, soaking in the perfection of her nakedness for the first time, finding it difficult to believe he had stumbled upon this beautiful woman. He poured more oil into his palms
and massaged her breasts, feeling the dark nipples harden as he teasingly touched and licked them.
She arched her back and breathed his name, “Robert…Robert.”
Sensing her need building, he replenished the oil and resumed his massaging of her thighs. His thumbs came closer and closer to the dark triangle. She writhed and whispered his name more urgently.
He pulled his shirt over his head and placed his hands on her hips, then drew her legs up on to his shoulders, relishing the smoothness of her thighs on his skin. Her eyes flew open as his mouth claimed her. She tasted sweet and salty at the same time.
“Robert.” Her plea was more strident now.
“Hush, Dorianne, hush,” he whispered as his tongue flicked over her most intimate part.
She cried out her release, clutching the linens, never taking her eyes from his. He’d an urge to rip off the rest of his clothes and plunge his rock hard erection into her. It took every shred of control he had to lay her quivering body back down on the linens. He left her to find a cloth to wipe the excess oil from her body. She had the sated look of a woman experiencing her first orgasmic experience and his heart soared he had been the one to initiate her. “When we’re married, my love, we’ll experience paradise together.”
He rolled her over and smoothed his hands over the healing welts. “I hope I didn’t hurt your scars.”
“I didn’t give them a thought,” she admitted with a languid sigh.
He kissed her bottom, then brought her a nightgown, tugged it over her head, and covered her with the bed linens. She curled up and dozed off immediately, the potion having its desired effect. He retrieved his clothing, tiptoed out of the room, closed the door, and leaned his head against it. Now he had a problem. What to do with the raging ache at his groin?
He turned and bumped into his brother.
“How is Dorianne?” Baudoin asked with a smile, raising his eyebrows at Robert’s obvious discomfort.
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