Cullen’s jaw ticked. “He did.”
“Then practice on my wife for your own marriage.”
Preston’s words were crass, his orders bizarre, but that wasn’t what bothered Cullen. There was something grossly unscrupulous about the entire situation, something that suggested he was being reduced to a stud service, and the lady to nothing more than a whore. It was improper to say the least, and he intended to tell Preston so.
“My lord,” he said steadily. “The lady is your wife in the eyes of God and England. If I do this ‘duty’, as you call it, then I will be committing adultery.”
“You will not,” the earl snapped. “You are my champion, de Nerra, an extension of me. It is your sworn duty to do what you are told, without question, in any arena I so choose. If I tell you to kill, you will kill. If I tell you to consummate my marriage, then you will do so.”
“I will be laying with another man’s wife.”
“Since when are you so damned religious?”
“Since the lady could tell her father, and her father could tell the church. Did you think of the possibilities if the church becomes involved in this, my lord?”
Preston’s hazel eyes glittered. De Nerra was matching him wit for wit, argument for argument, and he was perturbed. He didn’t like it when Cullen showed any measure of intelligence, at least not when it went against his wishes, and he certainly didn’t like it when the knight’s contradictory reasoning was sound. Therefore, Preston cooled, and rethought his strategy.
After a moment, an odd glimmer came to his eye.
“It is physically impossible for me to consummate this marriage,” he said. “I am impotent.”
Cullen couldn’t help it; a blonde eyebrow lifted in disbelief. “That is my lord’s reasoning behind all of this? That you are physically incapable of performing your husbandly duties?”
“Indeed.” Preston’s lips creased with a smile. He was very pleased with his cleverness. “Why do you think I’ve never married all of these years? I cannot perform as a husband should.”
“Is that what you will tell the church?”
“If they happen to become involved.”
“Is it the truth, my lord?”
“It is if I tell you it is.”
“What if they put you to a test?”
Preston smiled. “If they attempt to test me with a woman, then it most certainly will be the truth.”
Cullen’s oath of fealty prevented him from disputing Preston’s claim. But he knew it was a lie, so strongly that he would have bet his life on the fact. It was the plain truth that Preston didn’t like women. Cullen had always known this. His tastes ran to young men; the younger, the better. But it simply hadn’t occurred to him that the earl would try to escape the very basic foundation of marriage. The purpose foremost behind creating an alliance was to produce heirs.
“Any children you might have with her, of course, will be regarded as my heirs.” Preston was wise to his thoughts, as if he knew exactly what the man was thinking. “I consider myself quite fortunate to have your children for my own, de Nerra. They will be intelligent and strong and, in my opinion, quite worthy. Doesn’t it please you that your son might someday become the fourth Earl of Barklestone?”
Cullen wasn’t pleased with anything at the moment. In fact, as he stood gazing into Preston’s eyes, he realized he was closer to insubordination than he had ever been in all of his years of service. When he’d taken this mission from William Marshal, never could he have imagined what depths it would cover. And right now, they were wading into something very dark and very deep. He recalled William telling him that Preston was deviant but wouldn’t say more than that.
Now, he knew.
As Cullen struggled with the command, Preston sensed his turmoil. It was written all over his face. He took a step forward, moving so close to Cullen that their noses nearly touched.
“You will listen to me and listen well,” he growled. “I know your opinion on this. I can see it in your eyes. But if you go against me, if you so much as consider refusing my orders, I shall see to it that your honor is so badly disgraced that no righteous man in all of England will have you for a vassal. The only men that will have you will be mercenaries and murderers, and you’ll spend the rest of your days living the life of a beaten man. Do you understand me?”
He meant every word of it, Cullen knew. Although it was not in his nature to back down from a threat, he could do nothing more than nod his head. “Aye, my lord.”
“Clearly?”
“Without question.”
Preston smiled thinly. “Good. Now get the hell in there and produce a son for me.”
Cullen turned and was gone. Preston watched him go, feeling rather confident with the situation. He had made good on his nephew’s marriage and, without ever touching the woman, would no doubt have an heir in the near future. Money and power had come to him quite easily and he congratulated himself on his good fortune. Aye, things had worked out well.
And it would only get better.
Preston went in search of his cloak. He wasn’t going to spend the night at the monastery, but back at the inn a few miles to the north. He was becoming rather fond of the place. But he soon changed his mind when the young priest at the door gave him a warm smile and a plea not to venture into the foul weather.
Preston had seen that smile before, and the glitter in the eyes that accompanied it. He instinctively felt for his purse, knowing he had a few coins to spare this impoverish young monk. If the vow of abstinence was about to be broken, then he knew the vow of poverty would be overlooked, too.
And that was how he preferred to spend his wedding night.
The room was so dim that Teodora could hardly see to the door, a mere few feet away. In the corners, she could hear rats scurrying about. Rather than lift her feet to avoid them, she tried to anticipate their movements and step on them.
It was a game she played to distract her from her anxiety but in truth, there was nothing that could distract her. The same man who had struck her and pulled her hair was about to know her in the husbandly sense. For the first time in her life, Teodora could admit to herself that she was genuinely, wholeheartedly afraid. Knowing she had no right to fight him off terrified her.
The cot was smelly, old, and her once-beautiful wedding dress was still damp, giving off a musty smell. Tired and anxious, Teodora drew her legs up and tried to stay warm. Hugging her knees, she rocked back and forth on the straw mattress, thinking of the days when she was young when she and her mother would go to Bath and visit the ancient Roman buildings. Her mother had had a sister in Bath who had married a powerful knight. They had no children and Teodora remembered her uncle, a large man with foul breath, telling her story after story of his own valor. But he had been a very kind man and she always felt safe with him. At this moment, she longed for those peaceful, safe days more than anything.
She closed her eyes, trying to squeeze out thoughts of what this night would bring. Fear and pain as opposed to the gentle days of her youth. Beneath her, the rats raced around beneath her cot, stirring up dust. Her eyes opened and she stared off into the darkness, feeling self-pity along with the trepidation.
It didn’t take long for her imagination and emotions to run wildly. By the time the chamber door finally opened, she was as jumpy as a cat. Heart pounding in her ears, she could make out a massive form in the doorway.
Cullen’s dark eyes glittered in the weak light and Teodora swore that he was appraising her. After a brief pause, he stepped into the room and closed the door. She watched curiously as he removed his helm, his gauntlets, and finally the blue and silver Barklestone tunic covering his mail coat. The silver dragon of the House of de Lacy glittered on the chair where he threw it. When the hauberk and mail coat came off, with some effort, Teodora could no longer remain silent.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Cullen didn’t look at her. He was clad in a damp linen tunic and mail breeches. In on
e swift movement, the damp tunic was whisked off and tossed aside. His naked chest, broad and magnificent, glistened in the weak light.
Teodora leapt up from the bed, suspicious. “What are you doing?”
He looked at her, then. “My duty.”
She eyed the pile of clothes in the corner. “What do you mean?”
“Precisely that.”
Cullen realized he was being brusque. His normal demeanor was controlled, even in the most harried of circumstances. But these circumstances were like nothing he had ever faced before and he realized his temper had the better of him. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he motioned for Teodora to sit back down.
“I suppose you should consider yourself fortunate,” he said, his tone softened.
Teodora slowly regained her seat on the bed. “For what?”
Cullen scratched his head and sat down beside her. Teodora scooted over several inches and he fought the urge to laugh. So she was trying to put distance between them, was she? He didn’t crack a smile, however. Instead, he gazed into beautiful blue eyes.
“Lord de Lacy does not intend to consummate this marriage,” he said flatly. “And even if he did, it would not have been… pleasant.”
Teodora stared at him. A brief moment of disbelief was followed by relief so great that she nearly collapsed. “I… I do not understand,” she said. “I am his wife, am I not?”
Cullen nodded. “Indeed. But Lord de Lacy…” He knew he could not tell her the truth. Splendide mendax, he thought, nobly untruthful. “He is impotent, Lady de Lacy. It is impossible for him to complete his husbandly duty.”
He swore he saw her smile. Were he in her position, he might have danced and shouted, also.
“I see,” she said. “Did he send you here to tell me this?”
Cullen was silent a moment, still gazing into those miraculous eyes. “Aye,” he said slowly. “And also to tell you that he intends that I should fulfill the duty.”
Teodora’s faint smile vanished. “You?” She swallowed hard. “You intend to consummate the marriage in the earl’s stead?”
Cullen felt a strange disappointment by her reaction. No woman had ever looked fearfully at him in that respect. In fact, he’d always had far more women than he could handle. He was handsome, wasn’t he? Blonde hair, a winning smile, and big dimples in each cheek. Women loved his broad shoulders and quick wit. Was it actually possible that he had found the one woman on this Earth who didn’t want him?
He couldn’t help himself; an eyebrow lifted sarcastically. “Christ, don’t look so happy. I suppose I could round up several men and give you a choice of stallions. It doesn’t matter who does it, so long as it is done.”
Teodora bolted up from the mattress. “What a horrible thing to say!”
“Why? Obviously, I repulse you. And it is my duty, as your husband’s champion, to see to your happiness. If you want to personally select the man who will rob you of your virtue, then I shall oblige you.”
“You are being cruel.”
“I do not think so. How about your father’s knight? What’s his name? Anthony? ’Tis obvious that he is very fond of you. Mayhap the feeling is mutual.”
Teodora’s calm demeanor was in danger of shattering, a very rare event. Several retorts came to mind but they all tumbled over themselves and she found she could not spit one of them out. Furious, not to mention embarrassed, she simply turned her back on him as the surprise of hot tears came to her eyes. It was a struggle to calm herself when she wanted nothing more than to throttle him.
Cullen’s ridicule cooled. He was ashamed that he had been unable to control his disappointment as well as Teodora had been able to control her anger. He had insulted her to make the sting of her rejection hurt less. But instead of engaging him in verbal battle, she had backed off to regroup. The woman showed remarkable control, and that impressed him. Most women he knew would have flown at him, slapping and scratching, but Teodora did nothing but turn her back on him.
“I have a task to perform, my lady,” he said. He realized he didn’t want her to be angry with him, and his manner gentled. More than that, he was aware of his desire to ease the tension between them. “I apologize if the thought of my attention offends or repulses you, but…”
“It does not.” Teodora’s voice was muffled as she faced the wall. She wiped at her eyes before turning to face him. In the darkness, her cheeks were mottled red. “What I mean is… is that I would rather… rather you do it than Lord Preston. I have a feeling that you will show a bit more consideration.”
His ego wasn’t so damaged after all. Cullen felt himself softening, rather looking forward to the duty he had been ordered to perform, yet knowing all the same he must keep himself emotionally distanced. He could not permit himself to feel anything for this woman, no matter how beautiful she was or how much her strong character impressed him. He wasn’t about to jeopardize two years of very hard work and the properties promised him at the end of this mission. But even as he looked at Teodora, he realized at that moment, as he had known from the start, that Preston de Lacy didn’t deserve her in the least.
She was far too good for him.
“I will most certainly try to,” he said softly. Rising from the bed, he faced her in the dark room. There was a moment of awkward silence as they studied each other, knowing that there was no use putting off the inevitable. The time had finally come. “With your permission, my lady, I shall go about this in my normal fashion.”
“Normal fashion?”
“As I would any other woman.”
Teodora had no idea what he meant, but she was suddenly apprehensive again. Her stomach began to quiver with a strange, tremulous feeling when she thought of the man touching her. It wasn’t a feeling of fear in the least, but she was so naïve when it came to the laws of attraction that she didn’t realize it was quite possibly anticipation.
Nothing less than attraction and pure, unadulterated anticipation.
It occurred to Teodora as she looked at Cullen that she’d felt some attraction to the man from the moment they met. He was big, muscular, and far more handsome than any man she’d ever seen. He was patient, kind when he needed to be, and firm when the situation called for it. He’d been greatly tolerant of her and her foolishness from the moment they’d met.
His behavior had been nothing short of endearing.
What had happened over the last two days of her life had happened very quickly. Her betrothed had arrived, she’d tried to run from him, and now she found herself on her wedding night. Only the groom was unable to consummate the marriage. Deep down, she was glad – extremely glad, the more she thought on it.
If there was a silver lining to all of this, it was that Cullen would take the duty for his lord. Teodora had never heard of such a thing but given that she was a bride and she understood her duties as a bride, she was coming to think that God was taking pity on her in this situation by sending Cullen instead of her brutish husband.
Unconventional? Absolutely. But she wasn’t nearly as frightened or upset as she should have been.
She was coming to think she might be rather fortunate.
“Very well,” she said after a moment. “What… what would you have me do?”
“Nothing but relax. Can you do this?”
Teodora nodded nervously. “I shall try.”
“Then we may as well do this wholeheartedly if we are to do it at all.”
“Agreed.”
“And I have your permission, do I not?”
“You do. For what needs to be done, you do.”
He took a deep breath and reached out for her. The moment he touched her, however, her knees gave way to the anticipation and nervousness that had taken over her entire body. Cullen caught her against him, holding her damp body against his broad, naked chest in an embrace that Teodora had never experienced before. His soft, warm skin was against her, and Teodora suddenly couldn’t breathe. She felt lightheaded as she gazed up at him, because ther
e was something in his expression that relaxed her completely, and she found she was no longer afraid.
“Be calm, my lady,” he murmured. His lips, with infinite tenderness, brushed across her nose. “Similis simili gaudet.”
Through her haze of anticipation, Teodora understood his words. “Like takes pleasure in like? What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that I think you might enjoy this. I know I will.”
He could have cursed himself for his loose words. That wasn’t anything to say when he was supposed to be doing a duty and nothing more. But the moment his lips claimed hers, he was glad he had spoken the truth. Already, she tasted like nothing he had ever experienced and her flesh beneath his hands was soft and warm and wonderful. Suckling softly, he coaxed her own timid response to his kisses. When her confidence grew, he slid the gown from her shoulders.
The room was dark, minimizing Teodora’s embarrassment that she was suddenly standing naked, her dress puddled around her feet. Cullen’s massive arms enclosed her, covering her naked body and giving her a sensation of utter safety and warmth. Before she realized it, she was lying atop the musty cot and his muscular heat was covering her. His chest was covered with a fine matting of dark hair, making him soft and comforting in spite of his intimidating size. Purely from curiosity, Teodora ran her hands over the fuzzy warmth. Cullen, sensing her willingness to explore, gently grasped a breast.
His hand was searing. Teodora could feel a great heat over her firm breast, unmoving at first, but gradually he began to squeeze. It was a pleasant pressure and she quickly came to enjoy it, at the same time noticing a wicked tingling sensation beginning between her legs. It grew more heated as he massaged her breast, transforming into an ache that she could hardly understand. Cullen’s hand moved from breast to breast, touching and kneading, as his mouth continued to suckle her lips. When his mouth finally left hers, it was to savor a peaked nipple.
Noble Line of de Nerra Complete Set: A Medieval Romance Bundle Page 6