The Marriage Priza

by Virginia Henley

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  floodgates opened and she sobbed out her heart. When at last she quietened, Rosamond removed the amethyst gown, deciding to sleep in her shift. She dreaded the coming night, fearing the trampling dream.

  A soft knock came at the door and Rosamond stiffened. She had been half expecting him, for once a man had shared a bed with a woman, especially one as bold as de Leyburn, he likely assumed he would be welcome there anytime.

  "Rosamond, unbolt the door."

  "Please, leave me be, my lord."

  "Have you been crying?"

  "Yes ... no... I want to be alone."

  "You have been crying. There is no way I am going to let you sleep alone tonight. Open the door!"

  His demands were so loud, Rosamond feared everyone at Deer-hurst would hear. With fire in her eyes, she drew back the bolt and flung the door wide. "I will not sleep with you again!" Her anger melted immediately, for he held a pup in his arms. She saw the amusement in his green eyes and knew he was laughing at her.

  "Nor will I sleep with you, chérie; the torment is unendurable."

  "Come in, you noisy devil."

  "I brought you a little bitch. Giles had a Welsh terrier; this is likely one of her whelps. They are prized for ridding the stables of vermin, but they make faithful companions."

  She took the dog from his arms. "Thank you, Sir Rodger, that was most thoughtful of you."

  "Can you not call me Rod?"

  Rosamond blushed hotly. Indeed she could not call him Rod—the sexual connotation was too blatant for her tongue.

  His gaze licked over her hair and her shift with the searing heat of a candle flame, then came to rest on her mouth, lingering there with a look of longing. "We'll ride out to the tenant farms in the morning. Good night, Rosebud." He had her and the dog in his arms in a flash, kissing her swiftly, hungrily, then he was gone.

  The kiss left her dizzy. She put the dog down and spoke to her. "What shall we call you? Something Welsh, I think. How about Chirk?" The dog barked her agreement and it was settled. When Rosamond

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  romped with the pup, her melancholy mood lifted, and she reflected on how wise de Leyburn was. She was suddenly glad that she had at last found the courage to come to Deerhurst. When she climbed into bed, Chirk jumped up beside her, proceeded to prepare a spot for herself in her bedcovers, then curled up in it. "Your ancestors were wolves," Rosamond told the pup, "and instinct makes you dig a hole in your cave before you can sleep."

  Rosamond stayed awake a long time, apprehensive about the trampling dream, but when she did finally fall into a deep sleep, she dreamed of her cousin Harry of Almaine. In the dream, their conversation repeated itself:

  "Sir Rodger de Leyburn is paying unwanted attention to me, and I need you to make him keep his distance."

  "You must he daft in the head, Rosamond," Harry replied. "Everyone loves Rod; he makes friends easier than any man I’ve ever met. He has qualities that make others genuinely like him. You should consider yourself lucky to receive his attentions."

  Suddenly she found herself alone with de Leyburn. He was wearing a skull helmet and a wolf pelt and carrying her to his Viking ship. Magically the ship turned into a bed, and indeed she did feel lucky to be receiving his attention. "I wanted you to come," she whispered. She lifted her eyes to his and saw that his need was even greater than hers. " Will you ravish me? "

  "If that’s the only way lean have you."

  He stripped off her shift and set his hot, hungry lips to her flesh, then slowly, thoroughly, he began to make love to her with his beautiful mouth.

  Ten

  When Rosamond and Rodger rode out to the tenant farms, they heard no complaints. Though the children they encountered seemed shy and quiet, at least they did not appear to be afraid of them. Burke asked questions of every tenant about their stock and about Gore, the head steward. The farmhouses and outbuildings were not in disrepair, and when she compared Deerhurst with the conditions she had found at Pershore, Rosamond felt a measure of relief that nothing was gravely amiss.

  It was almost dark by the time they returned to the castle. As Rosamond warmed her hands at the fire in the Great Hall, the air was filled with the aroma of roasting meat. Rod handed her a cup of mulled cider. "Would you take dinner with me privately, Rosamond? There are a couple of things I'd like to discuss with you."

  She suddenly felt apprehensive. "Will we need to hold a court? "

  "No, I don't believe that will be necessary. I heard no real grievances."

  "Oh, that's good, I was worried for a moment. Is there aught amiss? "

  "Not really. We'll talk when we can be private."

  Though his words did little to dispel her disquiet, Rosamond nodded and went upstairs to bathe her hands and face. She had no other gown into which she could change, but at least she could freshen up and brush the tangles from her windblown hair. When de Leyburn arrived at her chamber, two servants carrying trays laden with food accompanied him.

  "We'll serve ourselves, thank you," Rod said, dismissing them.

  When they were alone, Rosamond smiled at him warmly. Not only was she starting to enjoy their time together, she was beginning to put

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  her trust in him. Her pulse quickened as she anticipated his touch. She knew it would come sooner or later this evening, and in her heart hoped it would be sooner. He was wearing a deep purple doublet and chausses that complemented her amethyst gown, reminding her of two lovers she had once seen in a play, who were costumed in varying shades of the same color.

  When Rodger lifted the silver covers from the food, she looked at his powerful hands and shivered, then wondered if he had seen. De Ley-burn missed very little with those devilish green eyes of his. Rosamond tried to focus on the food. The soup made from leeks was thick with cream. It was accompanied by a small rack of lamb and vegetables. Rod set the food on a small table before the fire and held her chair. Did she only imagine that he lightly touched her shoulders before he took his own seat opposite her?

  As the sexual tension mounted between them, they ate in silence until he poured them wine and offered a toast. "I think we should drink to Deerhurst, or rather to its future."

  Rosamond lifted her goblet, then paused. "Its future?"

  "The Deerhurst Castle and landholdings are run adequately, but they don't prosper as they should. I would like to see the tenants' children laughing, its pastures filled with milky herds, its castle chambers replenished more luxuriously. Rosamond, we can make Deerhurst thrive!"

  "We?" Rosamond's pulse began to throb.

  "My castle of Tewkesbury is so close, both would benefit from joint management. If Burke was made castellan in charge of both, Deerhurst would soon rival Tewkesbury. It would be a great union ... as would ours."

  Rosamond could not mistake his meaning. Her thoughts beat about rapidly like the wings of a caged bird trying to escape. She sipped her wine to gain time. He made no bones about the fact that he wanted her landholdings, and he had almost convinced her that he wanted her too. Perversely, she decided to test him. "I have no objections to Master Burke becoming my castellan, but you and I, my lord, can we not become secret lovers, rather than husband and wife?" If Rodger truly wanted her, he would be unable to resist her offer. If he wanted only her wealth, he would refuse such an arrangement.

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  His gaze lingered on her mouth, then moved up to her eyes. Rodger was far too wise to ask her why she did not wish to marry him. Her bold suggestion showed him just how much Rosamond did want him. He knew marriage would take a little more sensual persuasion. "We can indeed become lovers, my beauty." He immediately rose from the table and held out his hand in invitation.

  Rosamond drew in a swift breath and quickly set down the goblet, silently cursing her impulsive tongue. After a slight hesitation, she placed her hand in his, and in the next heartbeat he swept her into his powerful arms.

  "Open your mouth to me, darling, I want you to enjoy the feel of me
inside you." His lips persuaded hers to yield to his desire, and in-standy her own desire blazed up to match his. She felt the thrill of his kiss spiral through her body. A curl of fire began in the pit of her stomach and stretched its fingers upward into her breasts and down to her most sensitive female place. She could no longer deny the need she felt for Rodger de Leyburn. His sensual masculine appeal made her weak with yearning.

  Rod slowly pulled his mouth from hers and ran the tip of his tongue up and down the curve of her throat. When he heard Rosamond moan with desire, he knew he had her where he wanted her. He pressed his advantage, licking her ear and whispering, "What if there is a child, my love?"

  Rosamond drew in a swift breath, pulling away from him. She stared up at him aghast. Splendor of God, she had never thought about a child. Babies were vulnerable little beings. She knew it was not uncommon for them to die during infancy. She could never risk having a child, loving a child, losing a child! She took a deep, steadying breath. Was this the reason she had sought to end the betrothal? Was she afraid of marriage and motherhood? She had never thought of herself as a coward before, but now she did. Was she so terrified of death that she was afraid to live, afraid to love?

  Rodger took both her hands in his, lifting first one and then the other to his lips. Then, with his back to the fire, he went down on his knees before her. "Rosamond, my love, will you marry me when we return to Kenilworth? "

  The proposal caught her completely off guard. Rodger had 108

  never asked her to marry him before! He had arrogantly taken it for granted that the marriage prize was his for the taking. His tender words melted her resistance. She felt his powerful strength through his hands. She wanted that strength, lusted for it. It would mayhap hold her safe against the Fates. "Yes, yes, I will!" she heard herself say quickly, making the commitment before doubts and concerns could stay her tongue.

  Without rising, he pulled her down to him before the fire. He could not hide his exultance. He had besieged the castle and it had yielded to him. Could the victor now enjoy the spoils? Not completely, he warned himself. Rosamond Marshal could change her mind right up until the moment they exchanged vows. Rod decided he would give her a loving that left her craving more.

  He kissed her hungrily, possessively, mastering her with his tongue until she clung to him sweetly. As their food lay forgotten, his bold hand slipped beneath the folds of the amethyst tunic and made its slow, purposeful journey up her calf, across her knee to the soft flesh of her inner thigh. His fingers trailed up past her garter to her bare skin, going ever higher seeking the precious object of his desire.

  She gasped beneath his lips as his fingertips circled her woman's center. He toyed and teased and played there until he felt that she was thoroughly aroused, then he withdrew his hand from beneath her gown. The tiny moan of protest was music to his ears, telling him he was free to undress her completely. He unfastened the gold chain, lifted off the tunic and then the shift.

  She lay before him on the lynx fur in silken splendor with the fireshine playing over her luscious breasts and golden mons. Her black hose were such a contrast to her pale flesh, they added to the erotic picture she made. Rod knew she must be feeling deliciously wicked wearing only the hose, far more wanton than being completely naked.

  "You are so unearthly fair, perhaps I'll just look and not touch." He heard the swift intake of her breath and watched her breasts rise and fall. "I want to imprint this picture on my mind so that I can conjure you when we are apart." He opened her knees, and his gaze smoldered as he saw the pink rosebud nestled between her legs. Then he dipped his dark head and kissed the honey-gold tendrils. 109

  "No!" she cried out, but he knew she was not forbidding him; rather she was shocked that a man would do such an intimate thing to a woman, and he felt exultant that she was so innocent.

  "Yes, Rosamond/' he murmured, blowing softly on the golden curls to tease and arouse her. "I'm going to taste you."

  Rosamond thought she must be dreaming; surely this could not really be happening. The moment his mouth touched her, she shivered with pleasure and knew it was very real. She opened her thighs wantonly and arched herself into his hungry mouth. When she felt his tongue curl about her, licking and tasting, she wanted to scream with excitement. She could feel the heat from the fire on her naked flesh, but his tongue was hotter than any flame.

  For the first time, she realized she could give her body to him without yielding her heart, and it was like a revelation. She could feel passion without feeling love. She could lose herself in the sensations he aroused in her and allow him to teach her the sensual secrets that would pleasure them both. They would be united in marriage, in name, in lands and castles, and in the flesh, but Rosamond would be able to keep her inner self separate.

  Rod was extremely careful when he thrust his tongue inside her. He would keep her virgin; her maidenhead must not be breached until their marriage was consummated. Beddings were an ancient custom, and if no blood was found on the sheets the next morning, the bride would be shamed. He never wanted Rosamond to feel shame; he wanted her to feel pride, in her marriage and in her husband.

  He felt her first tiny fluttering pulsations, then heard her cry out in her passion. Quickly he moved up over her, to cover her lips with his own, then cradle her in his arms.

  "I can taste myself on your mouth," she whispered, shocked.

  Her words inflamed him. He wanted her in the bed, beneath him; craved her long legs wrapped about his body while he buried himself in her honeyed sheath. His erection was so pronounced, he could feel his blood pounding and pulsing in his shaft. Forgetting his resolve, Rod lifted her high against his heart and carried her to the bed. As her hands came up to divest him of his doublet, incredibly, he heard a soft knock upon the chamber door.

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  "Peste!" Who would dare disturb him? He padded to the door and listened. He heard a scratching sound on the wood, instinctively palmed his dagger, and cautiously cracked open the door. Chirk was through the opening in a flash, while Burke stood at the threshold.

  "Griffin has just arrived with messages, Sir Rodger. As soon as you repair to your own chamber, I will send him up."

  De Leyburn nodded and closed the door. Chirk was wagging her tail, eager to jump up on the bed, but waiting for permission from the dominant male presence. Rod sat upon the bed and took Rosamond's hand to his lips. "My squire has tracked us down. Can you be ready to return to Kenilworth on the morrow?"

  Rosamond laughed tremulously, knowing she would be married upon her return. "Since I have nothing to pack, I am ready, my lord."

  ******************

  On the ride back to Kenilworth, Rosamond, Rodger, and Griffin broke their journey at Pershore, and the following day, joined by Nan and Ned, they arrived at their destination. Rodger de Leyburn had received two messages summoning him back to Kenilworth; one from Lord Edward, the other from Simon de Montfort.

  Lord Edward greeted his steward and friend with great warmth. Rod knew the prince so well, he could tell he was bursting with impatient energy to confide something. "Rod, I've heard rumors that my father has no intention of returning for the Candlemas Parliament."

  Rodger de Leyburn knew if King Henry returned and tried to repudiate the Provisions of Oxford, it could lead to civil war. So the king would stay out of England and whittle away at the Provisions one by one. "Simon de Montfort is adamant about holding a Parliament. If the king reneges after signing the Provisions of Oxford, we could find ourselves at war," Rod cautioned.

  "Earl Simon will hold Parliament. If my father doesn't return, he will hold Parliament with me in charge."

  Rod knew Simon de Montfort would do it without hesitation.

  Edward drew close and searched his friend's face intently for a full minute. Though they were completely alone, Edward lowered his voice to speak confidentially. "I feel it in my bones that Simon wants to put me on the throne in my father's place and make me King of England."

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  Rodger de Leyburn recoiled sharply, but it was on the inside. His dark face registered none of the shock Lord Edward's words evoked. Christ's Blood, I thought I was shockproof. I thought I was the most cynical bastard who ever drew breath, but I was wrong! I know Edward to the core, know his driving ambition, so why am I shocked? Rod drew in a deep breath. He had committed himself to Edward years ago, and his loyalty was rock solid, come what may. "Never say it out loud again, Edward," Rod advised. "Walls have ears." He deliberately changed the subject. "I too have news. Rosamond Marshal has agreed to marry me."

  Edward grinned. "Good man! Mayhap we'll both achieve our goals."

  ******************

  Simon de Montfort took Rodger de Leyburn to his private chambers in the Caesar Tower. With his cynicism restored, Rod was prepared to hear any proposal without being shocked.

  "I have information that leads me to believe King Henry will not return for the Parliament."

  Rod did not reveal that he had already heard this. "The king cannot swallow his pride; it chokes him."

  "Henry's pride will be his downfall. Anticipating that the king would use delays over the French treaty as an excuse, I wrote to the justiciar, the marshal, and the other nobles, summoning them to the February Parliament. I assured them that Lord Edward would be at my side." He looked de Leyburn directly in the eye. "Can I count on Edward's presence?"

  "Edward will be there, Earl Simon."

  "I want the prince to add his signature to the Provisions of Oxford and speak for the barons' cause at that Parliament. Can you persuade him?"

  Rod's green eyes did not waver as he stared back at de Montfort. Did Simon really have it in his mind to set Prince Edward Plantagenet on the throne, supplanting Henry as king? Or was de Montfort ambitious enough to want to rule himself? Rod was far too wise to voice such treasonous and perfidious questions. The earl might want Edward to assume de Montfort would set him up as king. It was a deep game, and the players, Edward and Simon, with their shrewd minds and ruthless ambi-