by Anton, Shari
Stephen wasted no time following her into the tent. Marian held out the sack.
He crossed his arms. “Those are yours. Wear them or no, I will not take them back,” he declared, vowing if he could get Marian out of the wretched peasant-weave she insisted on wearing, he’d steal it and burn it.
“I have no use for them.”
“There is evening meal tonight and the christening ceremony tomorrow. You must attend both.”
“Carolyn will toss a fit. She already believes we take up too much of your time and inconvenience your family too much.”
“Carolyn can think what she will.”
“Stephen—”
He grasped her shoulders, heartened that she didn’t pull away. “No more, Marian. We both know I can no longer consider marrying Carolyn. Her opinion does not matter. Only you and the girls matter now.”
Her pewter eyes glistened with moisture, tears he wouldn’t let her shed. If he had his way, she’d never cry again.
“Carolyn will hate me for ruining her plans.”
“She has no cause to.” He slid his hands up to her neck, his fingers brushing hair soft as silk. He’d give most anything to spread the long strands out to fall soft and teasing against his bare skin. “I will do right by Carolyn. She will suffer no shame or embarrassment. I do not know how as yet, but there must be a way. ’Tis not as if there is any affection between us.”
“She wants you.”
Not like I want you. Now and forever.
“She wants a man to give her children and allow her to oversee her own lands. I am not the only man in England who might fulfill those requirements. Now you have pleaded your cousin’s case and not changed my mind. No matter what else, I cannot marry Carolyn.”
Hadn’t he this morning informed his brothers of the opposite? What a difference a few hours and an earthmoving confession could make.
She searched his face. Did she see how much he wanted her, see his resolve to set all to rights?
“I know I have much to make up for,” he whispered. “Give me time, give me a chance. We have lost six years. I would rather not lose another day.”
He heard the sack of gowns fall, felt the heat where her hands landed on his chest, but mostly he noticed how she sucked in her lower lip, held it between her teeth, then soothed it with her tongue.
“You ask me to fly when I do not have wings.”
“Then let me carry us both.” He grasped her right hand, kissed the healing scratches on her palm, and gambled his future on a fragile assumption. “Two days ago, in the river, you were willing to put the past behind, begin again. Have you truly changed your mind?”
“If memory serves, ’twas you who told me I was not in my right mind.”
“One of the most foolish errors I have ever committed. What were you thinking, hanging out on the branch, that made you so bold?”
Marian remembered most every thought racing through her head when her hand slipped on the branch—the vows she made, her decision to take the chance Stephen now asked for.
Heaven knew she wanted to with her whole heart, and her body urged her onward. Already her knees were weak, her woman’s depths warm and wet.
Dare she hope he could find a way to do right by Carolyn? Could the eagle truly come to roost? Could she learn to fly, perhaps close to the ground? If she didn’t try her wings now, she might never get another chance.
She pursed her lips, took a breath. “At first I was sure I was about to die, but the longer I hung on to the branch, the more firmly I believed you would come rescue me. I vowed to God and myself that if I lived, I would tell you about the girls, and that you…we…deserved another chance. I decided to begin by letting you know I still wanted you.”
He kissed the palm of her hand again. Did he know it sent shivers up her arm and down her back?
“I heard. And I wanted you so badly I could have taken you right there in the river. I should have taken you right there in the river.”
Yet he’d refused her, damn him. Made her angry and gotten her all confused and obstinate again. “Then what was all that drivel about gratitude?”
“’Twas not drivel, not all. Only some. Truly I should have just shut my mouth. I seem to get into mighty messes when I talk too much.”
She remembered Ardith’s comment about how Stephen didn’t always say or do the right thing. Mayhap she had the right of it.
“Your intentions are good,” she whispered.
“Not always.” He lowered his arms to encircle her. His hands clasped in the small of her back, he pulled her full against him. “I came to see you with the sole purpose of seducing you. Hardly noble or honorable of me.”
The evidence of his intent already reached out to her, hard and ready. The Stephen she knew and loved—randy and willing, any time and any place. In the hay or the river or now a tent.
Heaven help her she was ready for him, too.
“Think you we have time?”
His mouth descended, his kiss hungry as if starved. She thrilled to the mobile warmth of his mouth, the kiss imbued with the promise of ecstasy. No longer a lad, now a man, Stephen had likely kissed other women with such ardor, made other promises. She couldn’t bring herself to care so long as he kept his promise to her.
When he finally backed away, ’twas with a shaky breath. “I will tie the tent flap.”
Marian made quick work of her gown’s laces and kicked off her boots. By the time Stephen finished, she stood before him in only her chemise.
He pulled off his tunic as he strode toward her. He tossed it aside; his sherte followed in its wake. His arms came up, Marian held out a staying hand.
“Before we commence, I need to see what you mean to poke me with.”
Stephen stopped, remembering those words from another time, another place. Marian had always been the bold one when it came to sex, even the first time, when he’d taken her virginity and lost his own.
“Surely you remember.”
“I remember the lad. I wish to see the man.”
Six years ago his fingers had fumbled with his lacings, worried over whether Marian would like what she saw or back away in horror. This time his hands trembled because he knew what came next. He pushed his breeches down far enough to allow her a thorough inspection of his staff and the sacs hanging beneath. It damn near killed him to stand still.
“You have, um, grown rather magnificently.” She looked up, this time not questioning but teasing. “You know what to do, where to put it?”
With far more confidence now, he said, “Damn right I do.”
“Show me, then.”
He shook his head. “First I get to see the woman.”
She acknowledged the change with a smile and pulled the chemise off over her head. No longer a girl. Her breasts were bigger, the tips darker. Her hips were fuller, giving her shapely form more definition. Her stomach rounded slightly, streaked with thin white lines. The body of the woman who’d borne his children tempted him to touch and possess as much as that of the untried girl.
“Lovely. Exquisite. Take your hair down.”
She gave a little laugh and undid the tie. “You never cared before.”
“Never took off boots and breeches, either.”
He stripped down, watching Marian untwist her braid, then shake out the strands so long the tips mingled with the hair surrounding the entryway he’d soon breach.
She knelt down on a pallet. “No hay this time.”
He knelt before her. “We will make do.”
They came together, skin against skin, man against woman. The years and fears faded away, soothed by exploring hands, burned off by kisses. She moaned when he nuzzled in her neck, leaned into his hands as he kneaded and suckled her breasts, drew in a sharp breath at the first stroke of his fingers through her moist heat.
She cupped him with both hands, petting and stroking, driving him near mindless until he had to pull away. He meant to pull her into another long, lingering kiss. Marian laid
back on the pallet and spread her legs.
The hair there glistened with droplets of her woman’s dew. He leaned forward and used his thumb to spread the moisture around the nub of her need. Her back arched, her breathing quickened.
“Stephen, please.”
“Let it go, Marian.”
“Come with me.”
“Indulge me. I always did love watching you come apart.”
“Kiss me.”
So he did, but not where she expected. She arched up off the pallet with a long, broken gasp, then came down with a cry akin to pain. Her eyes glazed over, then closed. A flush spread across her upper chest and breasts, her nipples standing proud to poke through the veil of her hair.
Stephen covered her and slid his aching member into her pulsing pleasure. Her legs came around him, pulling him in tight. He rose up on his hands and timed his thrusts to her rhythm. Deep and hard he stroked, holding back his release with every ounce of willpower he could muster. For his efforts he enjoyed the reward of taking her over the edge once more.
He thrust deep again, and again. On the verge of spilling his seed he began to pull out, something he hadn’t known to do six years ago. Marian felt the movement and gripped him tighter, holding him inside.
“I want it all, Stephen. Either we are together for all time or we are not.”
For all time. Forever. Whatever he had to do to make it so. If Marian asked for proof of his resolve, knowing the possible consequences, then he’d not withdraw.
He thrust again, gave in to the physical urgency for release and his heart’s cry to prove his love. He came hard and long, his member thrumming against Marian’s soft sheath. Impossible for her not to feel the hot liquid pumping into her, not to know he gave her all he had to give.
She closed her eyes and sighed. “There. That feels so good.”
He lowered to his elbows and planted soft kisses all over her face before capturing her mouth. He kissed her over and over, tasting her, initiating gentle swordplay with her tongue until his body began to cool, until he knew he must roll off to allow her to breathe freely again.
She rolled with him, onto her side, as averse to separating their sweating bodies as he. He pulled the coverlet over them, wrapping them in a cocoon that entrapped their heat and the aroma of lovemaking.
Replete, he closed his eyes and held Marian close, content to remain right where he was until forced to get up. Like the end of the world. Or the tent falling down. Or Carolyn returning—which might be the end of the world. She’d kill him. Death wasn’t in his current plans. Worse, she might take her ire out on Marian.
He shook Marian gently, roused her enough to open her eyes and push the hair from her face. Waking every morning to those sleepy pewter eyes and her soft smile was going to be sheer joy. But first they had to marry.
She stroked his chin. “I like the man.”
He kissed her forehead. “The woman is utterly incredible. You drain me dry, Marian. I may never recover.”
“An hour at most and you will be ready again. Or has age slowed you down?”
“Not me. Not yet, anyway.”
The quip widened her smile, then she pulled him down for another kiss, soft and gentle, and incredibly stirring. Not long later, when she squirmed deliciously against him, he knew he wouldn’t need a full hour.
He’d tried to be careful of her earlier but she hadn’t let him. He ran a hand over her stomach, over those thin white lines earned while bearing his daughters.
“Do you think we might have gotten you pregnant again?”
“Would that displease you? You did try to pull away.”
“Only because I thought you might want to wait until all was settled and sure. ’Tis not displeasing to know you have the confidence in me to take the risk…yet, I do wonder how you knew what I was doing.”
“Ah, that. Well, after I gave birth, I made it my business to know exactly how things worked. An old herbs-woman told me of several ways how I might take a lover without…consequences, including the method you tried.”
He’d assumed she’d remained celibate, talked himself into believing she would only take someone she loved dearly to her bed. He knew she’d turned down offers of marriage, but the other?
“Apparently the method worked.”
“Oh, quite well.”
She jested. Maybe. He couldn’t tell. If not he didn’t want to hear about her other lovers, just as he didn’t want to tell her about the other women in his life.
Too many others. Women he’d been careful of, however, because he’d also made it his business to learn how to take a lover without consequences.
Still, he couldn’t help wondering who the hell else Marian might have instructed to pull down his breeches so she could judge the quality of his parts.
Stephen lay back on the pallet with his forearm over his eyes, and took comfort in having passed Marian’s inspection and then giving her good benefit of his parts. ’Twas enough, for now.
She ran a fingernail over his stomach, making him quiver, stirring his loins.
“What do we do about Carolyn?”
Somehow talking about Carolyn while lying naked next to Marian didn’t feel right, probably because he’d been to bed with Carolyn, once, at Westminster. Not a fact he would ever bring up. Would Carolyn? If the two women ever made comparisons…he shivered, more from where Marian’s hand had wandered down his inner thigh than anything else.
“Gerard offered to find Carolyn another husband, someone young and forbearing of her views.”
“What about Edwin?”
“Too old, too set in his ways.”
“Not too old. There is vigor in him yet.”
He moved his arm to look at her face; she was looking elsewhere, at his parts. The woman simply loved sex, pure and lusty. Had she ever asked Edwin to pull down his breeches?
“How would you know?”
“Edwin is but six and thirty. The gray in his hair speaks of experience, not feebleness.” She finally met his gaze. “When you are so old, must I find a new lover?” She slid her palm along the underside of his solid staff. “Will you yet be lusty, or gone feeble?”
Suddenly six and thirty didn’t sound so old. He knew of men older who’d sired children, the earl of Warwick for one. Stephen knew the man had seen his fortieth year, yet his wife had delivered their latest child, their fourth, only two years ago.
“I plan to be lusty well into my dotage.”
“Past thirty, then.” She wrapped her fingers around him, squeezed, ran her thumb over the tip to spread around the single drop of liquid.
“Well past.”
“Nice to hear. Besides, Carolyn loves Edwin. She uses his aversion to change as an excuse to—” She pursed her lips.
Carolyn in love with Edwin? Beyond belief! Except Marian believed differently. Had she cause?
“An excuse to what?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You must swear never to say a word of what I tell you to either of them.”
His curiosity piqued, Stephen rose up on his elbows. “I so swear, my lady.”
She took a deep breath and worried her lower lip. “You know Carolyn has buried two husbands.” He nodded. “Both were quite old, near as old as William. She now fears marrying a man older than she because, well, both of her husbands died in her bed after claiming husbandly rights. She fears she will kill Edwin if she marries him.”
Stephen’s first reaction was to laugh aloud, but the expression on Marian’s face stopped him cold.
“She thinks she will kill Edwin if she makes love to him.”
Marian nodded.
“Are you saying that all Edwin has to do is take Carolyn to bed and do nothing more than not die and she might relent?”
The corner of her mouth quirked. “Well, he might want to be a bit more active. The thing is, Carolyn is not about to swive Edwin. She truly fears for him.”
Stephen laid back down, his hands beneath his head. If he could convince Edwin to tumble Caro
lyn, that problem might be solved. Nay, first he’d have to make sure Edwin understood how much Carolyn wanted control over her lands. Surely, due to the contest, Edwin now knew her knowledgeable.
Marian’s hand moved lower, down to under his sacs, fondling, driving Edwin and Carolyn to the farthest reaches of his mind.
Marian sure wasn’t worried about him succumbing, not when she wanted him again so soon, and was making steady progress in ensuring her needs met. Insatiable wench.
Mercy, what the woman did with her hands could push a man right over the edge of madness. He let her play as long as he dared.
“Marian, you do intend to buff that rod sometime soon?”
She laughed. “Crudely put.”
“Aye, and I have been hoping you might see your way clear to do the buffing ever since you mentioned it the other day.”
She slid over him and took him into her. He grasped her hips and arched upward; she sat up and pushed down. She hissed at the fullness of his possession; he moaned low at the depth of his penetration.
Marian threw her head back and rose up ever so slightly before lowering down. Over and over and over. Stephen knew he wasn’t going to last long, so put his thumb to her sensitive nub. He girded his loins and made deliberate circles around the nub, pushing her toward release, heating her sheath until she melted around him.
Marian’s pleasure drew him up and in, caressed him in the most intimate way possible. He gave himself up to the pleasure and the joy, the love and the woman. He could have sworn the earth moved beneath him, that thunder rumbled across the land.
’Twasn’t until several moments later, with Marian sprawled atop him, his breathing beginning to return to normal, he realized the moving earth and thunder had been real, in a sense. Horses, many of them, must have ridden past the tent.
He had to leave before someone discovered what he and Marian had indulged in for a good part of the afternoon. He truly hadn’t meant to linger so long.
“Marian, we must get up, get dressed.”
“Must we?” she complained.
“Greedy wench. Come, move that beautiful rump of yours.”