by Sakwa, Kim
“How nice you took the trouble to instruct me on what I should wear,” she’d continued, his thoughts now returning from those of her imminent defeat, a triumph he could all but taste. “I just wanted to be sure,” she’d said, standing beside the table now, her hands running down her body for emphasis, “this wouldn’t be your first choice?”
He’d stood so fast the chair fell. He’d grabbed her, his hand a vise around her arm as he pulled her from the room. The laughter behind them had been so out of control by that point, they’d beat out their enjoyment upon the tabletop.
By the time they’d entered their chamber, he had been so furious he could barely speak.
“How dare you, wife!”
“How dare I? How dare I?”
He backed her to the door, his look causing her retreat with every step he took. “I thought to be helpful,” he shouted, blocking her escape.
“You—did—not!”
“Apologize—now.”
“Never.”
“You’ll pay for your insolence,” he warned, an inch from her face.
“Oh God, Greylen!” She’d grabbed his shirt. “Make it quick, I’m almost there.”
He hadn’t made her wait at all.
He’d ripped the clothes from her body, then threw her to the floor. Kissing her savagely as he’d pressed himself against her, and in such a state that he was beyond thought, he had ground his hips roughly between her thighs, barely unfastening his breeches enough to free himself before plunging inside.
He’d loved to hear her beg and beg she had done—again and again. He’d released with a shout, hearing his name escape his wife’s lips.
The next incident happened two days later. He’d been unable to run with her that morning, and when she had approached Hugh, who had her guard, he’d informed her ’twas forbidden. Greylen couldn’t say why he chose that particular word, but he insisted Hugh use it knowing his wife would be furious.
She had still been in her robe when she’d stormed the study. “I was about to change for my run,” she hissed, steam nearly coming from her ears. “But was told you forbid it.”
Greylen had looked to Gavin and his men at the table. “Leave us,” he’d ordered in an ominous tone, eyes narrowed on his wife. He could taste victory again, body and mind reeling with anticipation.
Gwen had waited till the doors closed. “Listen, caveman, I need to run and you can’t stop me,” she shouted, approaching his desk, her strides determined, her look furious.
“I did stop you, wife,” he’d corrected.
“I’ll go in my goddamned robe if I have to, Greylen! Where are my clothes?”
“Don’t jump ahead, sweet. Repeat the term you used to describe me—now!”
“It was caveman,” she’d yelled, leaning over the desk.
“Caveman?” he’d bellowed as he stood. “As in prehistoric beast?”
“Aye. You seem to be a direct descendant,” she’d spit in his face.
She’d jumped back as he swept everything atop his desk to the floor. Then she had run for the door as he’d vaulted and gave chase. He’d caught her as she reached the latch, grabbing her wrists and pulling her back.
“Sit down, love,” he’d commanded, pushing her, though she complied. She’d trembled beneath his touch, as desperate as he. His hand behind her head, fingers clutching her skull, he’d laid her atop the empty desk, untying the belt of her robe with his teeth.
“You provoke me on purpose, wife,” he’d growled.
“Maybe,” she’d said in a breathy voice. “Do you?”
“Aye,” he’d whispered, covering her mouth, his hands rough upon her body. Tasting and biting every inch of her, he’d sat in the chair again. Grabbing her legs, he’d dragged her closer and kissed the insides of her thighs. Then he’d spread her with his thumbs and feasted on her with his mouth.
“Let go, wife,” he’d whispered, moving his finger inside. She had, but still he had continued to make her surrender once again. He’d stood, slicking his hand with her wetness before covering himself. Then he’d watched as she did the same, moving her hand on her body before wrapping her fingers around his erection. He’d growled and pushed her back, entering her with such force they both cried out.
It took less than a minute—they’d released together and lay panting. “Brassy wench,” he’d grumbled. “You do provoke me on purpose.”
“Aye, Greylen,” she’d admitted with a grin. “I do.”
“Greylen. Greylen.” Gwen rubbed his cheek, pulling him out of his reverie.
He shook his head and grinned. “Sorry.”
“You were a million miles away.” Gwen smiled.
“Nay.” He leaned in and kissed her. “Come,” he said, circling her waist and helping her from the chest.
She sat on the trunk at the end of their bed, sipping the coffee that Anna had brought up earlier. Their servant knew when they left in the morning, and on each occasion a hot bath and coffee awaited their arrival.
“So, what’s on your schedule today?” she asked as he dressed.
“We ride the southern border. MacFale’s been tampering with the posts again, though he’s not desecrated anything.”
“Desecrate is a strong word, Greylen. Is he that bad?”
“Aye, he enjoys inflicting pain—on people and animals.”
“In that case, I don’t want you playing with him, understand?”
“Aye.” He laughed. “I’ll only play with my men—and you.” He laughed as he left the room, hearing her call out “good answer.”
Gwen poured another cup of coffee and went to the landing. Wrapped in her robe, she sat on the berth waiting for Greylen and his men. They met in the study every morning, discussing whatever it was they talked about, and then together they’d head to the front doors.
Watching them was her favorite part of the day, and she smiled as she heard them coming down the hallway. Then they appeared. Seven of the most wonderful men in the entire world.
They were all huge, with dark hair of varying lengths and incredible bodies. Today they wore ebony-colored breeches and light-colored shirts. Their swords were angled across their backs and cylinders filled with quivers were thrown over their shoulders. But what appealed to her most were their eyes. No matter what trouble they thought she caused, it was only respect and concern that they looked to her with. And no matter how many times they lied straight to her face, she knew they did so only to protect her.
“Boys,” she called playfully, rewarded with seven smiles as they turned. “Don’t forget, we’re having pizza tonight for dinner. Pick it up on your way home, okay?” They all nodded, clapping her husband on the back before heading out the door. Greylen, however, remained, holding her gaze the longest. Then he turned to join his men.
His wife dressed for dinner.
She looked resplendent in pale blue. Her hair was secured with a jeweled clip he’d gifted her with just that morn and her legs were crossed as she sat before the fire in the great hall, her foot rotating provocatively. The cordwainer must’ve had a fit fashioning her sandals. More to the point, she must’ve had the fit bending him to her will. The sandals were delicate and similar to those she wore the night he wed her. The heel on these, however, had to be three inches longer, and no more than a spike. His appetite increased…for her.
She turned and smiled, as if she was pleased by his appearance. He and Gavin were both dressed impeccably in white linen shirts and black trousers tucked into tall, polished boots. Their hair was still wet, having bathed in the lake before entering the keep, a habit after their long days.
Greylen walked to Gwen and brought her hand to his lips. “You look beautiful,” he said.
Gavin poured wine and handed a goblet to each of them before placing the last atop the harpsichord for Isabelle.
“Greylen, come play with
me,” Isabelle called.
“Aye, Sprite, something lively,” he dared.
“You play, Greylen?” Gwen asked, surprised.
“One of my many talents,” he teased.
Gwen snorted. “My God your ego knows no bounds.” Then she turned to his first-in-command. “Gavin, come dance with me,” she called. “We’ll teach my monger husband and his saucy sister how to move to such music.”
Gavin drained the contents of his goblet and then bowed ceremoniously before taking her hand. He led her to the center of the room and Gwen smiled. “Follow my lead, kind sir,” she said. She proceeded to teach him what she called a “two-step.” It wasn’t long before Gavin was twirling her around the room, and when the music ended, he kissed her hand.
“My turn,” Isabelle called, standing.
“Perfect.” Gwen smiled. “I’ll play while Gavin teaches you the steps.”
’Twas rather odd that when Gwen sat next to him, she just stared at the keys with a look upon her face that belied her seconds earlier enthusiasm to play. ’Twas another long moment before she whispered an explanation, “You know, it’s really rather stupid, but somehow playing the piano in the past always made me sad, more alone than I actually was.” She turned to him. And when she bit her lip, he ran his finger down the side of her face.
“A stroke for courage, love.” When his wife’s eyes filled with tears, he asked, “What’s this?”
She reached up, cupping his face with her delicate hands to bring him closer. “Everything I ever wanted is right here in this room, Greylen,” she whispered for his ears only.
Good God, he loved this woman. “I’d not find the words to say it better.” He kissed her, then motioned with his head to the keys. “Play, sweet.”
It took but a moment for her to find the right placement, and then she laughed finding her stride, shocking them all as she played beautifully.
Greylen studied Gwen’s hands, adding to her delight when he followed beside her. She gave him an incredible smile, which he returned. And now he was the one who was laughing, having more fun than he could ever remember.
Anna came in and announced dinner, and as he glanced up, he couldn’t help but notice the warm look she exchanged with his mother. When he and Gwen finished their piece, Gavin escorted Isabelle and their mother to the table. He and Gwen remained where they were.
He shook his head as he stared at her. “You never cease to amaze me, Gwen.” He laughed as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “One day, love, I’m going to bite it for you,” he warned.
“You already have,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Don’t remind me,” he growled.
“I like it when you bite me.” She grinned.
They laughed their way to the table and Greylen held her chair. He remained standing, raising his glass ceremoniously. “To the first of many joyous nights together. May the warmth that fills this chamber last throughout our lifetimes.” They touched their goblets together before drinking to his toast.
“Greylen, how did you learn to play the harpsichord?” Gwen asked as they began to eat.
“My father and I sailed to Italy years ago,” he explained. “We happened to be at court when we saw the instrument. My father was so taken with the invention, he commissioned its construction for our home.”
“What became of him?” Gwen asked.
“He died five years past, peacefully in his sleep.”
“I’m sorry,” Gwen said, taking his hand. She repeated the sentiment to his mother and Isabelle.
“We had a good life together, Gwendolyn,” his mother said quickly. “He loved his children more than anything and saw that they had all the world could offer.”
“Tell me more,” Gwen prompted softly.
“When the children were young, he doted on them constantly. Greylen could always be found beneath his desk in the study, the same that’s there today. Even when he was a babe just crawling, Greylen sought his father’s presence. And though Isabelle came much later, he showed her the same affection. She loved to be bounced on his lap and dance for him before supper.”
As Greylen recalled the memories, he took note of his wife’s look of longing. ’Twas the same look which Gavin wore, a look he’d not taken note of before. He did so now, realizing he must get to the bottom of the puzzle.
“As Greylen became older,” his mother continued, “Allister took him everywhere. They sailed the seas together and traveled to council meetings. He wanted his son to be aware of the world around him, human nature as well. And though it pained him to send Greylen abroad to continue his studies, Allister knew the importance of learning and expanding one’s mind.”
“He must have been a great father,” Gwen said wistfully.
“He was,” Greylen said, squeezing her hand. “What of your parents, Gwen?”
“My parents were nothing like yours,” she answered. “You were lucky to grow up in a loving home. It was all I ever wanted. My world is so different, people are so different.”
“Circumstance may change, Gwen, but people and their motivations remain.”
“Do you always have to be right? It’s sooo annoying.”
“Annoying you happens to be my favorite pastime.”
“Really, I could have sworn it was something else.” She let the innuendo hang and turned to Gavin. “Gavin, what of your family?” she asked.
Greylen knew if Gavin could take Gwen outside and beat her, the time would be now. She’d voiced the question no one had the nerve to ask. Greylen was shocked to hear Gavin answering. “I, too, dream of family, Gwen, but only in the years since I’ve held your husband’s guard. I was lucky to know a mother’s love, and, at one time, mayhap a father’s.”
“What became of them?” Gwen prodded.
Greylen knew that he wasn’t alone in holding his breath. His sister and mother had to be as well, for they’d never heard Gavin speak so freely.
“My father still lives, but he’s a weak man and I chose to leave. I studied abroad until I joined my king’s ranks in service, and ’twas there I was lucky enough to find a man of honor.”
“Do you have any other family?”
“None I would speak of. I turned my back years ago—and the devil himself couldn’t make me look upon them again.” He spat the words, his anger barely contained.
“I’m sorry, Gavin.”
“Nay, Gwen.” He shook his head. “’Tis I who am sorry, for I left much behind. Though I’d not take for granted what I’ve gained in the years since.”
The conversation lightened as servants cleared the dishes. And after another hour or so by the fire, Lady Madelyn excused herself, kissing each of them before leaving. Greylen stood a short while later and held out his hand to Gwen. They left Gavin and Isabelle sitting across from each other in the chairs before the fireplace.
Gavin finally looked to Isabelle. She leaned against the side of the chair, her feet tucked beneath her. “What I wouldn’t do for things to be different, Bella,” he said, staring into her eyes.
“Imagine they are, Gavin, just for a moment,” she whispered. “What would you do then?”
“You’d be mine already, Bella. My babe would grow fat in your belly, and I’d care for you as I’ve only dreamed.”
Isabelle left the comforts of the chair, taking those few steps until she stood before him. “Dance with me again, Gavin?” she asked, reaching out. “Please.”
He stood and pulled her in his arms. Then he moved her about the room, imagining the music they listened to earlier. Imagining the life he feared could never be his. Gwen had opened a myriad of emotions tonight, and he was surprised he answered her questions. But somehow, spoken aloud, the memories seemed to lessen those that forever haunted his mind.
“Come, I’ll walk you to the stairs,” he whispered, brushing the hair from her fa
ce.
“Will you kiss me, Gavin?”
He couldn’t seem to stop himself tonight. He reached out and held her face and then he slowly leaned forward and covered her lips. He remained perfectly still, feeling as close to heaven as he’d ever been.
He held her hand as they walked to the stairs. Then with his foot atop the step and his hand on the banister, he watched as she made her way. She turned at the landing, but just before she reached her door, she leaned against the railing.
She mouthed the words I love you.
And he was lost.
His hand covered his heart as he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked at her. He looked at her until he was sure that she understood, first, that he accepted her words, but more importantly, that he would love her until his dying breath.
Moments later, he left the keep. Damning himself with each step he took. Knowing that his freedom to have her would destroy the life he now knew.
But what once was enough…
His hands reached for the sky as his roar echoed through the night.
“For God’s sake, Gwen, what are you doing?” Greylen asked, shaking his head. He was dressing and she was lying on the floor.
“Sit-ups, Greylen.”
“Ah…your simple exercises, wife. To run you simply run, and to do sit-ups you sit up. Is that the way of it?” he teased.
“Aye, it is, and these sit-ups keep my stomach flat and tight. Something that I can honestly say pleases you,” she said, continuing her crunches.
He straddled her body. Grinning, he pushed her to the floor. “What would please me more is your belly filled with my babe, and an end to your thusly named exertions.”
“Really?”
“Aye, really,” he answered. “Don’t you want children?” “Of course, I just… We just never talked about it,” she stammered.
“Nay, we only rut like animals two or more times a day.” He laughed, then kissed her.
“Oh my God, Greylen, I could be pregnant.” “Aye, love, we should know in a matter of days.”