They had the rest of their lives to do it.
“Where you born in Hexham?” Catherine asked.
Distracted him from his thoughts, he smiled. “I was just thinking that I didn’t even know where you were born or how old you are,” he said. “It seems we are thinking the same thing.”
She finished with her bread. “All natural questions about the person one has married,” she said. “In answer to your question, I was born at Keswick twenty-two years ago last month.”
“And in answer to your question, I was indeed born at Hexham Castle.”
“How long ago?”
“Thirty-nine years ago last winter.”
“Where did you get your name?”
He grinned. “My mother’s surname was Berridge,” he said. “She named me for her family but shortened it to Ridge. I’ve never been called anything else.”
“I like that better.”
“So do I.”
Catherine had stopped eating at this point and Ridge had essentially stopped drinking, so the conversation was simply putting off the inevitable. Ridge knew they didn’t have much time, but he felt like a cad for reminding her of why they’d come. He gestured towards the bed.
“If you want to see your husband compete in the joust later today, then we should get on with it,” he said. “I hate to rush this, but…”
Catherine was already on her feet. “I understand,” she said. “But the next time… mayhap we don’t have to rush, Ridge.”
“God, I hope not,” he said sincerely as he stood up. He pulled his tunic up over his head and tossed it over the chair. “In fact, when this tournament is finished, mayhap we’ll go to a seaside village and spend a week there. No mother, no brothers, no danger, and no time schedule to keep.”
She noticed he was stripping down and she went to unfasten the ties on her dress, trying not to think of how apprehensive she was. She’d done a good job of keeping it at bay but, at the moment, it was threatening to bloom.
This is all happening so fast! she thought.
But she was ready to move right along with it.
“That would be lovely,” she said, trying to distract herself from her apprehension. “Do you know of any places?”
“A few. There’s one in Blackpool that’s quite nice.”
He pulled off his padded tunic and slung that over the chair, too. Since he wasn’t dressed for competition, simply for comfort, he wasn’t wearing any mail or any cumbersome protection. In little time, he was stripped naked from the waist up and Catherine paused in her undressing, looking at the body of the man she’d just married.
He was spectacular.
“Oh… Ridge,” she said, sounding breathless. “I do not mean to sound foolish, but I have never taken my clothes off in front of anyone. This is all a little… strange to me.”
He was in the process of unfastening his breeches but he came to a halt, the top of his breeches hanging open, and went to her.
“Not to worry,” he said, giving her a kiss and a hug. “I will turn my back and you can undress without an audience. Get into the bed and cover up. I will not turn around until you tell me to.”
It was such a considerate thing for him to do and she was greatly relieved. More than that, it was a glimpse into the character of the man she had married and she liked what she saw. Ridge promptly turned his back and Catherine finished undressing quickly, all the way down to her shift. When she came to that, she paused uncertainly.
“Should… should I remove my shift, too?” she asked.
Ridge was watching the street below. “If you are not comfortable doing so, then you do not have to.”
“Are you leaving your breeches on?”
He grinned because she couldn’t see him. “Nay,” he said. “That would not be helpful in what we are about to do.”
“Then you will be without clothing?”
“Without clothing.”
“Then I will be without clothing, too.”
He heard her toss the shift somewhere behind him and the bed creak as she crawled into it. It was a big bed, with a canopy overhead and curtains to protect from the cold nights, and he waited patiently while she got comfortable.
“I am ready,” she finally said.
Ridge turned away from the window and promptly closed the curtains on her side of the bed and on the foot of the bed as well. He closed the curtains on his side, stripped off his breeches when she couldn’t see him, and then slipped into the bed and under the coverlet without her being widely cognizant that a naked man was suddenly in her bed. It was dim and cozy in their little world now. They faced each other in the darkness, the light greatly muted by the heavy curtains.
Not wanting to give her too much time to build up a righteous fear of the unknown, Ridge leaned forward and kissed her. It was like throwing fuel on a fire because once he touched her, lust roared through his veins and he moved into the dominant position, his big body covering hers. His mouth drifted from her lips to her neck, down to her shoulders, trying to avoid moving faster than she was ready for. His attentions were gentle and delicate as Catherine lay there, eyes open, watching him. He must have sensed her attention because he lifted his head from the swell of her bosom, his gaze mingling with hers.
It was a moment full of silent words of adoration, of gratitude for this moment they thought they’d never experience. He lifted himself up, kissing her nose, her cheek, acquainting her with the feel of his body against hers. Beneath him, she was warm and soft, which aroused him terribly.
His passion soon became something he could no longer control.
Their bodies intertwined as he came down on her again and his lips latched on to hers. To feel her against him with such intimacy was more than he could bear. He’d been with many women, and many times, and had experienced their flesh against his, but not like this. Never like this.
The sensation of it overwhelmed him to the point of madness.
Ridge’s mouth moved away from hers again, down her neck, seeking a heated nipple. Beneath him, Catherine bucked and gasped at the newness of the sensation, but Ridge held her slender body still. He didn’t want her to squirm away from him as he greedily suckled her breasts, first one and then the other, using his body weight to keep her from moving too much as his right hand stroked her thighs. They were so very soft and he left her breasts to wedge his body between her legs so that he could put his mouth on her thighs and groin. He could smell her musk and it was intoxicating, filling his nostrils until he could hardly stand it. As he lifted himself upon her body again, his manhood pressing against her virginal core, he put a hand between their bodies, touching her pink folds gently to ease his way inside her.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmured against her cheek. “You will enjoy this, I promise.”
Catherine, who had so far been loving everything he had been doing to her, was suddenly apprehensive. His fingers, and his great shaft, were touching a place she’d rarely touched herself. It was a sensitive area and as he stroked her carefully, her entire body quivered in a way she could not control.
Every touch brought lashings of fire.
“I… I am not afraid,” she said, although it was a lie. “This is how children are born, how a husband touches a wife. This is how…”
He suddenly thrust forward, cutting her off, filling her with his fullness as she gasped at the sting of possession. But the sting was momentary, replaced by a feeling of closeness and intimacy that she could have never imagined. Ridge was atop her, his body in hers, filling her with his great manhood and Catherine forgot all about her apprehension. Already, she loved the sensation, the feeling of being impaled by a man.
Already, she craved it.
Instinctively, her hands move to his buttocks, timidly touching him at first, but confidence came quickly. She squeezed his rock-hard backside and Ridge groaned with pleasure as he began to move. She was incredibly tight as he thrust into her body, slowly and with measured force, lost in a world of liquid wa
rmth and discovery that revolved around the woman in his arms. Her hands on his buttocks fed desire like he’d never before experienced and as he made love to his wife, one though came to mind.
This is the first time I have truly made love to a woman.
He felt like a virgin.
In a way, he was, because this was the first time he’d ever made love to a woman he cared about.
Adored.
It was foolish to think that this was something new and wonderful, but he couldn’t help it. Nothing he’d ever done in the past even came close to this moment in time when he bedded the woman he loved.
Aye, he loved her.
Perhaps he could only admit that to himself at the moment, but someday he would tell her. Being with her was more than a physical need – it was both emotional and spiritual, a need that claimed his soul. All that he was now belonged to her. He kissed her deeply as he impaled her on his manhood again and again, the kisses infused with the love and passion he felt for her as he filled her body with his.
Beneath him, he could feel Catherine responding to his touch, hesitantly at first but with increasing abandon. Her legs wrapped around his hips, her arms around his neck as she matched him kiss for kiss, creating a storm that consumed them both. When he felt her take her first release, one that had her gasping with pleasure, he found his shortly thereafter. It overwhelmed him so that he bit his tongue in his ecstasy.
It was bliss.
For the longest time, they lay there, breathing heavily, holding each other closely. Ridge finally shifted so that his weight wasn’t crushing her, moving to his side and gathering her against him. At some point, he began to hear gentle snoring and he smiled, kissing the top of her head, pleased that their first intimate experience as man and wife hadn’t reduced her to a fit of tears.
Just the opposite, evidently.
He suspected that she had enjoyed it as much as he had.
For the precious stolen moments afterwards, Ridge would have been happy to remain as they were forever but he knew, at some point soon, that they would have to return to the tournament. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t return to this room, and this bed, when it was finished. Somehow, he didn’t want to return to his encampment. He wanted to come back here, with privacy and a locked door, and he wanted to enjoy his new wife again.
And again.
But that would have to wait until tonight. With time slipping away, he waited as long as he dared before he shook her gently.
“Catie?” he whispered. “Wake up, sweetheart.”
She stirred, but not much. He shook her again.
“Catherine,” he murmured, a little louder. “You must awaken, love. We must…”
She cut him off by suddenly bolting up, half-asleep, her fist balled. “Let go of my dog!” she bellowed. “Let go of my dog or I’ll –!”
“Catherine,” Ridge said firmly, grasping her face and forcing him to look at her. “It’s me, sweetheart. Look at me. It’s Ridge. You’re safe, I promise.”
Catherine blinked at him, realizing she had only been dreaming. She’d been back in the grove with Renard when he threw Iris to the ground. When she realized that it had only been a dream, she burst into tears. Feeling great sorrow for her nightmare, Ridge pulled her down to him in a crushing embrace.
“It’s all right, love,” he whispered, rocking her. “The dogs are safe. You’re safe. You’ll be safe as long as I have breath in my body, so you needn’t fear. Everything is all right.”
Catherine wept painfully for a moment before lifting her head to look at him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, tears all over her face. “I was in the trees… he had Iris and he threw her to the ground.”
Ridge kissed her face repeatedly. “I know,” he said. “But it’s all over with. You needn’t be afraid ever again, I swear it. Do you believe me?”
Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, she nodded. “Aye,” she said. “I… I’m well enough, truly. Is it time to leave?”
“It is,” he said regretfully. “But we can return tonight.”
“Promise?”
He smiled faintly. “Absolutely,” he said. “And we will not be rushed. At least until morning comes.”
Feeling calmer, she smiled in return. “Good,” she said. “This… what we did. It was not what I expected.”
He laughed low in his throat. “What did you expect?”
She shook her head, grinning because he was. “I do not know,” she said. “But I can tell you one thing.”
“What is that?”
“I liked it.”
With a loud laugh, Ridge pulled back the curtains and let the sunlight in. Come what may, at the end of the day, he could honestly say that this day of all days was the most memorable day of his life.
And he had the former Catherine de Tuberville to thank for it.
All else in his life paled by comparison.
Ridge and Catherine made it back to the tournament field just as the second to the last bout was going off. Being that Ridge’s bout was last, he and Payne, Tavis and Osbert, worked quickly to fully prepare both Ridge and Cabal, for by the time they were finished, they only had a few moments to spare.
Catherine walked proudly with her new husband and his men over to the tournament field to find Geoffrey and George waiting for her. They congratulated Ridge and their sister on their marriage and sat with Catherine in the box while Ridge made short work of Arthur St. Marr. Two violent passes and on the third one, Ridge unseated St. Marr and won his black and white warhorse.
The crowd and the new Lady de Reyne went mad with approval.
But it wasn’t over yet.
Three days later, on the last day of the tournament when the semi-finalists had become finalists, and the finalists narrowed down to the last two, Ridge ended up facing William de Wolfe for the prize and bragging rights. It was one of the most anticipated bouts in the annals of the Durham tournament and on mid-morning on the fourth day, Ridge and William went head-to-head for the championship.
The first three passes were hard and violent, with the wood from splintered lances raining over the crowd, but on the fourth and final pass, Ridge managed to brace his lance against the top of William’s shoulder, a very technical move that caused William to lose his balance. He was overcompensating for a blow to the left arm, so a hard strike to a different part of his body had William losing his left stirrup. Had he not been such an excellent horseman, he would have gone off. As it was, he only ended up half-off.
It was enough to give Ridge the victory.
As the massive Durham tournament wound down, Catherine had the privilege of watching her husband crowned the tournament champion. She stood in the crowd with her brothers, Ridge’s men, and the knights of Northwood save William, who was standing next to Ridge and presented with an honorary purse for a battle well-fought.
The crowd cheered their champion enthusiastically.
When the purses were given and the crowd began to filter away, and the competitors were moving back to their camps in anticipation for the big farewell feast that evening, Catherine stood next to Charles, watching Geoffrey and George with the knights of Northwood planning the next tournament they would attend together and trying to figure out how to topple Ridge, who heard every word. He was standing off to the side with William, perhaps discussing the next tournament also, but they seemed quiet and serious.
Catherine stayed away, letting her husband have his private conversation. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she watched the activity at the competitors’ encampment in the distance.
“It looks as if the de Luzie tents have been struck,” she said. “Has Martin left?”
Charles glanced at the massive encampment in the distance. “They left yesterday,” he said. “Martin told Ridge that he was heading back to France to inform the count of his son’s disappearance. Did Ridge not tell you that?”
She shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “But it does not matter. I was just wondering. However, ther
e’s something else I’ve not been told.”
He looked at her. “What’s that?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “It has been three days since Ridge and I married and you haven’t said a thing about Blythe,” she said. “Are you going to tell me what happened at The Silly Gilly?”
Charles sighed faintly. “I was not going to say anything at all.”
“Why not? Was it horrible?”
“It wasn’t horrible.”
“Did she go home?”
“Aye, and she’s going to stay there. I rode with her carriage for several miles to make sure she left town for good.”
“But…”
He cut her off, though not rudely. “Catie, you have just started a new life with Ridge,” he said. “I do not want to bring the pain of Mother’s actions into it. You and Ridge need to move past what she’s done and have a good life. You must heal. Suffice it to say that I spoke to her and sent her home, and I will make sure she does not misbehave again. That’s really all you need know.”
Catherine smiled at her big brother, putting a hand on his arm. “Still trying to protect me?”
“I will always protect you.”
“Just tell me one thing.”
“What is that?”
“Have I seen the end of her?”
Charles nodded firmly. “I believe so,” he said. “Go forward with your life, Catherine. Don’t worry about her. When the time is right, and you feel strong enough, you may want to see her again. But I would suggest you focus on your life with Ridge for now. You have the start of a good one.”
Catherine’s smile broadened. “I intend to, believe me,” she said. “He says that the next tournament is in Harrogate. We are going there next.”
“I heard about that,” Charles said, relieved to be changing the subject away from their mother. “But it’s not until next month. What are you two going to do in the meantime?”
Her gaze drifted over to her husband, still speaking with de Wolfe. For a moment, she simply watched him, feeling like the most fortunate woman on earth. Every day with the man got better and better.
“We’re taking the dogs and going to a seaside village of Blackpool,” she said. “Ridge says there are cottages to let there. We’ll get a cottage and take the dogs to the beach every day.”
The Black Storm (De Reyne Domination Book 4) Page 24