by Jody Hedlund
The king held my gaze, as though testing me. Then he finally relaxed in his chair, a small smile curving his lips. “Well said, son. From what Father Patrick has told me, she is already softening under your influence.”
“If you are half as loving as your father,” Mother interjected with a smile directed at the king, “you shall have no trouble winning her heart.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
Before I could say more, cheers erupted outside the chapel, and I knew Emmeline had arrived. Had she come willingly, or were my guards even now dragging her forward?
My heart picked up pace, tapping a strange, almost painful beat. Why did I care so much if she wanted me? Essentially, this was no different from our first wedding ceremony in the forest. She was still my captive, still being held against her will, still being forced to wed a man she hadn’t chosen.
The nobility filling the churchyard began to move aside, their cheering growing until at last I caught a glimpse of Emmeline gliding up the stone path flanked by my guards, and my chest seized. She was almost too beautiful to look at. With her dark hair down, it flowed to her waist in gentle waves that had been brushed until they shimmered. A circlet made of gold and pearls adorned her head, making her appear regal. Her creamy gown molded to her body, showing off her womanliness along with her well-toned muscles.
If I’d been attracted before, I was more so now, especially after getting to know her and realizing she was not only beautiful but smart and kindhearted and easy to talk with.
Was she coming to me of her own will?
My pulse thudded harder, and when she stepped through the doors and into the chapel, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but watch her.
With her chin angled up, she held herself with the bearing of a princess and of a future queen—my queen. She continued at a measured pace, her pretty lips set with determination, her shoulders braced in clear resolve.
I riveted my attention to her face, willing her to look into my eyes and see my encouragement and my appreciation. Her gaze moved first to the king, then to my mother, and finally to me. From the rounding of her eyes, I could tell she was surprised to see me in something other than my black chain mail.
Though I’d been left with scant time, I’d taken a quick bath, had my menservants wash my hair, and also managed a shave before donning my courtly garments. My appearance was vastly improved, and I hoped I was as attractive to her as she was to me—although I didn’t think that possible.
Her gaze held mine fast for the duration of her walk down the aisle, filling my chest with inexplicable warmth. Something in her expression told me she’d come to the church willingly, although perhaps not necessarily because of her feelings for me. But she hadn’t been coerced, and that was progress.
As she reached the altar and ascended the few steps, I held out my hand to her. When she placed her fingers in mine, I felt her trembling and wished I could draw her against my chest and reassure her all was well. While traveling, I’d grown to like having her close, so that having her near but not within my arms was a form of torture.
As she took her place next to me, the king rose. In a show of respect and subservience, the nobility lowered themselves to one knee before the king. I, too, lowered myself and tugged Emmeline down beside me.
The king offered an introductory prayer and then returned to his royal spot next to Mother. When he was finally sitting again, attention shifted back to Emmeline and me. She shot me a sideways glance, and I nodded at her, hoping she could see my sincerity.
Father Patrick led us through the same wedding ceremony he had previously officiated. But this time, he spoke every word and prayer, without leaving out anything, ending with the Holy Eucharist and then the pronunciation that we were man and wife.
At his final signing of the cross, the chapel bells began to peal. The crowds that had swelled the churchyard and nearby streets shouted, clapped, and whistled. Father Patrick closed his prayer book. “There’s only one thing left to do,” he said. “And that is to seal your union with a kiss.”
I was still holding Emmeline’s hand, and at the mention of a kiss, she started to pull her hand from mine. Before she could get away, I intertwined our fingers and then lifted my other hand to her cheek. I settled my attention upon her lips—those pretty, oft sassy, and yet innocent lips. I wasn’t about to let an opportunity to kiss her pass by.
I’d wanted to kiss her earlier today and had almost succeeded. I wouldn’t fail now.
Caressing her high cheekbone with my thumb, I leaned in and let my mouth hover above hers. She drew in a quick breath, caught her lower lip between her teeth, then dropped her eyes to my lips. Curiosity and interest mingled there, igniting my own desire even more.
Before anything could stop me, I closed the distance and covered her mouth with mine. For a heartbeat, uncertainty hung between us. Then I moved my lips, relishing the sweet fullness and the taste of her. A moment later, her lips responded tentatively, testing, trying. I opened more fully to her, giving her room for exploring. But she was timid and began to pull away altogether.
I let my lips cling to hers an instant longer, willing her to feel my devotion, desire, and determination to be a good husband. When I released her, I became aware of more clapping and cheering from within the chapel, the nods of approval, the smiles of relief.
At the joyous atmosphere both from within the church and outside, Emmeline finally smiled—the first real smile I’d seen from her. It lit her eyes and made the curves of her mouth all the more appealing, so that I could think of nothing else but kissing her again.
As a man accustomed to getting what I wanted and doing whatever I pleased, I bent in and touched my lips to hers again. Her eyes widened with surprise. She, in turn, surprised me by lifting on her toes and pressing back, almost as if she’d wanted another kiss as much as I had. This time her mouth meshed with mine, her lips fitting perfectly, eagerly.
The cheering and whistling increased until it was deafening.
Emmeline pulled back, again nibbling on her lip, her cheeks pink, her eyes bright. She avoided my gaze, suddenly shy in a way that made my pulse quicken. I could only pray her willingness to kiss me meant she was beginning to like me as much as I liked her.
Chapter
11
Emmeline
I was overwhelmed by the lavishness of the wedding banquet awaiting us at Delsworth Castle. The kitchen servants brought out a continual procession of delicacies. In addition to capons, pigeons, rabbits, veal, venison, and lamb there were sugar plums, strawberry tarts, pears in red wine, sweetmeats, and more I couldn’t name.
Between the courses, pages and squires helped to serve the ale and wine while minstrels played music on their lutes. The king and queen sat side by side at the center of the high table. I was positioned between the queen and one of her important ladies-in-waiting. Rex was seated on the opposite side of his father with his brother, Magnus, next to him.
In some ways, I was relieved I wasn’t beside Rex. Something had most definitely changed between us as a result of his kisses, something new and exciting and yet frightening. During the meal, whenever I dared to peek at him and allow our gazes to collide, the desire and possessiveness in his eyes only tilted my world, making me dizzy and breathless with emotions I couldn’t begin to name.
I was still uncertain what to make of the pale cream gown I wore, with its rows upon rows of seed pearls embroidered in intricate patterns with golden threads that shimmered in the light. When I’d been ushered to my chambers earlier, a dozen maidservants had crowded around to beautify me for the wedding, some working on my hair while others cleaned and styled my fingernails. Still others lathered my body, particularly my sundew bruises, in creams.
Although Mother had done her best to prepare me for such a moment, drilling me on the proper court etiquette, I’d never imagined so much attention and pampering all at once. Even now, as I ate, several servants waited only a few feet away, ready t
o jump at my every need. After fending for myself all my life, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get used to depending on others.
What would I have been like if I’d grown up in the royal residence, if King Francis and Queen Dierdal had reigned instead of King Ethelwulf? As I’d walked the halls of the castle, I tried to picture them, tried to picture my sisters. But my thoughts had turned to Lance and Felicia. They were the only family I’d ever known, and I couldn’t—didn’t want to—imagine my life without them.
“You have captured his heart,” the queen said, looking first at Rex and then at me.
“He’s an admirable man.” I picked off a piece of the tart crust and took a small bite.
“I did not love the king right away, either,” the queen admitted softly. “But he was persistent and loved me until I could not help but love him in return.”
I nodded. For all of King Ethelwulf’s mistakes, I certainly couldn’t fault him for the love and tenderness he bestowed upon his wife. It was obvious with his every interaction with her that he cherished and revered her.
Perhaps he was a good husband, but I wasn’t convinced he was a good king. My parents had told me of his cruelty during those early days of his reign, the stories of how he’d sent whole families to the gallows for the slightest infractions. He’d tortured and killed so many that the streets of Delsworth had run red with blood.
From what I’d witnessed of the people and conditions during my ride through Mercia, I suspected he could still be just as cruel and harsh. And the times I’d caught him looking at me, I’d sensed a cool detachment and sharp calculation, as though he were trying to figure out how he could use me to his advantage.
“Rex will love you as well as the king has loved me,” the queen continued. “And he will give you little choice but to love him back, even if you are reluctant to do so.”
“He has many good qualities.” Even so, had I done the right thing in making our marriage public and attempting to win the support of the people? During the short ride back from the chapel, I’d waved and smiled at all who gathered along the roads and hung out open windows. I prayed they’d see me with Rex and opt for peace rather than revolt. If my marriage to Rex could help prevent a war, then that’s what we needed, wasn’t it?
Self-doubts crowded in again as they had since I’d made up my mind to go through with the ceremony. Deep inside, I knew Father wouldn’t have wanted me to give in to the enemy and undermine Adelaide’s rebellion. Instead, he would have instructed me to think about my duty to the country, the people who needed freedom, and the true peace that could happen only after it was earned through hard-fought toil and tribulation.
Though I wanted to let my attention drift to Rex again, to reassure myself of his goodness and kindness, I broke off another piece of my tart. Had I allowed him to charm me too easily?
After all, I’d never had the solicitude of a handsome man—or any man—before. Had he wooed me into doing exactly as he’d planned? To use our wedding to distract the people from their discontentment with the king? That had to be it. With our countries on the brink of war, it was too far-fetched to believe he’d be interested in me as anything more than a means to an end.
What have I done?
My insides quivered, and I searched the perimeter of the room, mentally calculating my best route of escape, before focusing on the table in front of me. I couldn’t leave. The damage was already done. Would any of the people of Mercia fight with Adelaide against King Ethelwulf now?
At a short blast of a trumpet, the guests grew silent and turned their attention to our table. Only then did I notice that Rex had risen and moved to the front of the raised dais.
When all eyes were on him, he spoke in his usual clipped and commanding tone. “Upon this, my wedding day, I should like the chance to bestow upon my bride three wedding gifts.”
I sat up straighter and exchanged a glance with the queen. Her eyes reaffirmed what she’d said moments ago about her son loving his wife well. At her nod, I stood and skirted the table to stand next to Rex.
I had to squelch my misgivings. Whatever might happen, I was here now. Even though my fears urged me to run away, somehow I had to gather the courage to stay and seek peace here, right where I was, in any way I could.
“The first is . . .” He motioned toward a squire, who hurried forward carrying a tasseled cushion. The squire bowed and held out the elegant pillow. Rex gingerly retrieved something and then turned to me. “A ring made of the finest ruby.”
Before I realized what he was doing, he’d kneeled in front of me and reached for my left hand. Gently, he slid on the ring, a ruby surrounded by dainty pearls. It glinted in the candlelight and reminded me of the much larger ruby my parents had saved for me as proof of my royal lineage.
He looked up at me, his eyes apologetic, as though to say he wished he could give me back my other ruby, but that for now, this would have to take its place.
I nodded. Maybe I wouldn’t have the ruby and the life my parents had envisioned for me. But I could make something of this new life and do some good here, couldn’t I?
When the ring was finally in place, Rex pressed a kiss against my knuckles, reminding me of our kisses from the church. As his eyes lifted to mine, their smoldering blue told me he was thinking of the same. “It shall signify my heart, that you shall have it forever.”
Delighted murmurs rippled through the guests, followed by clapping. They approved of his gift. His gaze stayed upon me, beseeching me for the same. With such an offer, how could I accuse him of using me or doubt his sincerity?
I wasn’t quite sure how to show I accepted his gift, so I did the first thing that came to mind. I tugged him upward until he stood once more, then I reached for his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles in return.
At the touch of my lips on his work-roughened skin, the blue in his eyes turned a shade darker, making my stomach dive with pleasure. As I released his hand, I couldn’t release his gaze.
“The second gift is . . .” Without breaking our connection, he motioned another squire to the dais. This one brought a cushion, too, and Rex retrieved the item at the center. “A key.”
My first thought was that he was returning the key he’d taken from me—the one to the ancient treasure. But at the sight of the object, I realized it was smaller and plainer.
He held it out to me. “This will allow you to enter the scriptorium, and there you will be able to read any book you wish.”
I sucked in a breath and couldn’t keep my fingers from trembling as I took the key—from both anticipation and the thrill of such a present. He wasn’t just giving me a few books to replace the ones I’d had to leave behind. He was supplying an entire room filled with them. The gesture was not only sweet, but it spoke of his respect for my thirst for knowledge.
If I’d harbored any lingering qualms about his intentions, this offering easily banished them. My heart swelled with admiration so that I couldn’t contain a smile. “Thank you, Your Highness. You are as generous as you are kind.”
Again, the guests clapped, clearly enjoying the display of Rex’s affection as much as I was.
“The third gift is . . .” Rex turned and beckoned to a final squire waiting in the shadows of the great hall. The young man strode forward quickly, but rather than a cushion, he carried a medium-sized wooden box. As he stopped in front of Rex, he bowed but didn’t hand over the box. Instead, he held it out and allowed Rex to remove the lid.
“A new friend.” Rex glanced inside before beckoning me to step closer and take a look for myself.
A new friend? I rose on my toes and peered in. At the fluffy bundle of fur curled up in a bed of hay, I gasped my delight. At my slight noise, a pair of dark eyes opened and a little nose poked up to sniff the air.
“She may not be a fox,” Rex said hesitantly, “but I’ve been assured this breed of dog is close.”
I reached inside and lifted out the puppy. The sight of the adorable creature earned the applause a
nd endearments of the guests. Her fur was a rich, thick red mixed with patches of white—almost like the ruby on my new wedding ring. As I studied her pointed ears and snout, she examined me in return.
She seemed to waste no time in accepting me, raising her head and greeting me with several sloppy licks. At the exuberant kiss, I laughed and buried my face in the puppy’s neck. Above the creature, my gaze locked with Rex’s, which was filled with pleasure and something infinitely warmer.
Sudden tears stung at the backs of my eyes. Rex’s consideration was beyond anything I’d ever known. He didn’t have to do any of this for me. He wasn’t obligated. Most men wouldn’t have gone to the trouble to bestow any gifts, much less three that were so meaningful.
My fears from moments ago had been unfounded. I had no need to escape, for this was where I wanted to be. With him. I wanted to thank him, but I suspected any effort I made would fall short. “I wish there was something I could give you.”
“I expect nothing in return,” he said. “I only pray one day you might be able to freely offer me your love. That is all.”
My heart had yielded a little more with each gift, and now, at his bold declaration, my entire body turned as soft and warm as the puppy in my arms. I wanted—no, needed—to show him how much I already did care and how grateful I was for his thoughtfulness.
I stepped toward him. With one arm around the puppy, I lifted my other to his neck, hooking him and bringing him down so that my mouth met his. Although I was inexperienced in kissing, I pressed to him nevertheless, hoping he could sense everything I was feeling. As his lips responded gently, I melted even more, so that I was afraid I might not be able to stand if I let go of him.
As he fitted his hands at my waist and started to deepen the kiss, the puppy squirmed, released a yip, and then reached up to lick my chin. With a laugh, I broke away from Rex to find that he was grinning and his eyes radiated contentment and happiness. The guests were laughing and smiling, too, clearly enamored by our interactions.