How to Seduce a Queen: A Medieval Romance Novel

by Stella Marie Alden

  “Nay.” He stared down at her, the tops of his cheeks red. It was truly a delightful look on him.

  Now that she knew the problem, ’twas easy enough to deal with, especially after all the trials they’d endured. Smiling, she stretched long like a cat, and purred, “Why ever not?”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “D’Agostine does it with my sister. ’Tis unseemly to ask. And Marcus? Would you approach him with such a question?”

  She giggled. “Nay. I suppose I would not. But I did ask Ann. And your sister. And the cook. And the maid. They all assure me that we can do the deed for many months. In fact, right up until delivery.” She pulled him down to lie beside her, put her arms around the back of his neck and kissed every daft thought out of his head.

  When he came up for air, panting, he said, “You mean I’ve wasted all this time?”

  “Well, not really. You were very sick, for a while.” She gasped when he tore off her under garments, leaving her completely naked. Side by side, his hands caressed every inch of her body, igniting her passion.

  He moaned. “I’ve wanted you for weeks, more, months, years.”

  “You haven’t known me for years.” Her snicker was stopped short by his lips on her mouth. His clever tongue tangled with hers, in and out, mimicking the act of love she had needed for so long.

  “God above, angel, I want you. If I jump into the ocean any more, to sooth my lust for you, I shall grow gills.” His breath warmed her ear, his tongue still busy.

  “And here I thought mayhap you’d decided to take priestly vows.”

  With a small growl, he rolled her on top and his desire hardened near her moist lower aching. The curls of his chest hair caressed her hardened nipples. To be in his arms again, surpassed all her recent daydreams.

  Then his hands gripped her waist and he lifted her over his protruding shaft. “Ride me.”

  She bit her lower lip and her face heated. “How?”

  “Knees on either side. Just sink your sweetness onto my desire.”

  “Oh.” Shaking, she held him in place and lowered down until he filled her to the back of her womb. The heavenly sensation soothed the lonely void that’d been there since she thought him dead.

  When he pulsed up and into her, an excited chill raced up and down her spine. Tentatively, she pushed down to meet him, and her greedy nub swelled. Damn. She wanted him so much. Like a flint on dry leaves, they were suddenly on fire. She bounced as he arched into her, climbing higher and higher. She needed to be one. Had to join with this man, her monk, her sinner, her everything.

  He met her thrust for thrust, faster and faster, his shaft growing thicker, harder. It took all her strength to match his speed.

  “Look at me.” A finger rubbed at her slick nub, and the ache increased. Surely, she would die for need of him. She rode him while the darkening in the center of his eyes bore into her soul.

  He shouted his battle cry. One magic thrust took her into heaven. Her inner walls shivered and shook around him. Flashes of light streaked across her mind’s eye. She fell onto his chest, heart pounding, delightfully undone.

  When his pounding heart slowed, he chuckled. His hands slid to her waist and he gently pulled out. “Are you sure we’re not in heaven?”

  Her body ached to have him back inside, filling her. “Don’t jest about such things. We are very much alive.”

  Like ruffled feathers, his hand smoothed her head, and he turned onto his side. “I know that, dearest. And now do you forgive me, for everything?”

  “Aye, for saving me from The Ax. Aye, for saving me from Sean and from your grandsire’s dungeon. Aye, for bringing Aunt Agatha back to me.” She played with the small red curls on his chest and kissed him. “I must consider more thoroughly, however for being addle-brained about making love to me.”

  She’d forgotten how wonderful his smile was when it lit up his whole face. “Dearest, when you put it like that, I feel like a knight in Arthur’s court.”

  “You are a knight and soon a member of Sir Blackwell’s guard. And me? I believe Lady Ann promised I would become ‘mistress of women’s archery and bowmaking.’”

  His grin spread even wider as she continued, “We’ll have plenty of coin, a good life for our child, and a small, but sturdy home. Only Edward will know the truth of our whereabouts. History will never recall the last heir of Magnus.”

  “Nor the bastard son of Bruce.” He wrapped his arms around her, his want growing again.

  Epilogue

  Green Meadows, just outside of Londontowne

  After eating breakfast with the rest of the villagers, Fay breathed in lilac, lavender, and new spring grasses. She waddled across the square toward the ancient Roman keep of Green Meadows and waved.

  The ladies, Ann and Meredith, sat in the morning sun on a bench, just outside the double doors to the main hall. They wore summer kirtles and their feet were bare.

  Meredith laughed as Fay drew near. “There must be two in that belly.”

  “Maybe three and they best arrive soon or I shall burst.” Fay eased her huge body down onto the bench as they slid over to make room.

  “Soon enough you’ll be nursing two and wishing for the return of these days.” Lady Ann glanced up from a knotted mass of yarn work in her lap.

  Grinning, Fay took it from her and began the chore of untangling. “I can’t thank you enough for asking Marcus to demand my husband escort him today. He hovers like my old Aunt Agatha. And every one of my boys checks up on me twice a day.

  Ann chuckled. “I thought as much. I sent them—”

  They all paused as horse hooves pounded on the north road. Ann stood. “Christ’s Blood. It’s the king. He was not expected for weeks.”

  Fay pushed her huge body up, heart beating wildly. “Edward?”

  Ann heard nothing, already shouting countless instructions into the hall. “… And get Marcus back here anon.”

  Meredith cupped both her palms to the flummoxed lady’s cheeks and pointed her head in the direction of the road. “Ann. Look. Your husband rides with them. Thomas, Nicholas, and the boys as well. All the saints in heaven above! Is that the queen?”

  Face ashen, Lady Ann dashed to the center of the green, no doubt planning how to instruct an entourage of horses, maids, carts, and troubadours.

  When Edward dismounted, she curtsied perfectly, as did Merry.

  Out of breath, and feeling rather faint, Fay did her best to bend a fat, clumsy knee. She fell face forward into the sweet grass. “Oomph.”

  Her husband, forgetting all protocol, was at her side in seconds. “Are you all right, angel?”

  Fay moaned at the sharpest of pains in her lower abdomen, and turned flat on her back. “Owwwww.”

  In a moment, the hurt was gone, but when she opened her eyes, the king, the queen, Merry, Thomas, the children, and Marcus all stared down at her with mouths gaped open.

  Bloody wounds of Christ. Of all the times to have a baby. She blushed. “Apologies, Sire.”

  “Do they come? Now?” Nicholas paled and his eyes widened as he easily lifted her off the ground. No small feat given her size.

  “I’m not sure, not ever having done this before.” She put her arms around his wonderful neck and whispered into his ear. “The king, dearest. His needs must go first.”

  Red faced, Nicholas turned to the royals and stammered, “Apologies. I, I am new to this. What do I do? Where do I put her down? Ann?”

  The king laughed and slapped Marcus on the back. “Lead the way. Your brave new knight is about to pass out.”

  Edward seemed much nicer than the last time they’d met. Still, Fay had hoped never to see him again. She was brought into the huge hall in her husband’s arms while the rest followed.

  Ann tripped on the small step, cursed, and bellowed, “Little Tom? Marc? Boys? Run into the village and get the midwife. Anon. No. Leave your swords here.”

  They dropped their wooden weapons, rushed under Fay’s feet, and yelled
and whooped the whole way into the village.

  Another sharp pain wracked her belly and Fay cried out.

  Dear God above. The queen, Eleanor, took her hand and said, “Deep breaths, dear.”

  Lady Ann frowned up at her husband. “Marcus? I’m afraid you and Thomas will need to see to it that the king’s people have everything they need.”

  She barked into the kitchen, “Dame March? To me. Girls? Don’t dawdle there. Drag in a pallet. Cover it with clean linens.”

  General Ann was in her prime. She pointed when the bedding arrived seconds later. “Nicholas, for the love of all things holy, set her down.”

  Straw crunched under Fay’s arse, another hellish cramp, and Nicholas’s warm soothing hands caressed hers. “Are you all right?”

  Are you daft? Of course I am not all right. Resisting the urge to kill him, she smiled, and mussed his new growth of soft red hair on the top of his head. “Aye. I am fine. What will you do with our two new princesses?”

  “Two strong knights to kneel before the king.”

  “Mayhap one of each, like you and your sister. Owwwww.”

  Ann rushed in with a mug of water. “Give her a quick kiss and be gone. She’s tall, and strong, with wide hips. Out. These things can take days so best you find something of worth to busy yourself with.”

  Nicholas grinned sheepishly, and one more time his firm lips caressed hers. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

  He wandered out into the square, where tents were being set up in an orderly fashion.

  After a long soak in the bathhouse, where Edward grilled him for hours about his grandsire’s ambitions, there was nothing to do but pace and listen to his wife’s screams.

  Damnation. It went on all afternoon and into the night.

  At one point, in the early dawn, the noise stopped and an awful silence ensued.

  Heart racing, he jumped down the bathhouse stairs, but Marcus, Thomas, and the king held him back.

  He struggled. “I need to see her. Before she dies.”

  A babe screamed, soon followed by another tiny voice.

  Tears streamed down his face and he didn’t give a whit. “Christ’s blood. Is it always like this?”

  All three men nodded, grinning like fools, and led him at a manly pace into the main keep. It gave him time to wipe a sleeve over his eyes and take a deep breath.

  His wife, streaked with sweat, and red hair stringy, was the picture of loveliness. An angel.

  He rushed to her side, knelt, pulled her into his chest, and kissed her sweet lips over and over. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  Ann tugged his shoulder. When he turned, she put the tiniest of babes into his arms. It was too wee. Too small.

  “Ann. No. I might break it. Uh, is it a him or a her?” He undid the tight linen bundle and perfect little toes kicked. A girl. Tiny hands clenched into a fist and his beautiful baby stared at him with big blue eyes.

  From her pallet, Fay said with a sleepy smile, “Her. Two. I told you it would be so.”

  The midwife handed the second child into his wife’s arm. The babe latched onto a breast and suckled with a greedy grunt.

  Cradled within his forearm, her twin blinked wide-eyed. Astonished, Nicholas gawked. “Welcome home, wee one.”

  Then he sat cross-legged on the floor, next to Fay’s pallet, and never felt happier. He would become an even better man for them. Already removed from the Earl of Annandale, he’d become a chivalrous knight and friend to the king. Now, a loving father.

  His wife, from murderess to peaceful bowmaker. Mother of twins.

  The devil of Man, who he’d not heard from for ages, stomped and cursed from the depths of hell causing Nicholas to laugh heartily.

  The rest in the room stared, no doubt thinking him a mite daft.

  Also from Stella Marie Alden

  and Soul Mate Publishing:

  HOW TO TRAIN YOUR KNIGHT

  Year of our Lord, 1276.

  In the hours just before dawn, blasphemous curses echo throughout the stone manor. A knife clatters to the floor, and a feisty young widow is bound, blindfolded, and led to the marriage altar. The king couldn’t possibly have sanctioned this farce of a marriage, could he? After all, she alone transformed a few mud huts and starving serfs into a flourishing town, never once hesitating to pay generous taxes to his royal kingdom. Abandon her beloved people to be ruled by her new husband, an ignorant Templar knight? Never! the Lady Ann vows.

  A murderous witch for a wife? The Beast of Thornhill finds himself in the middle of either a cruel jest or an evil conspiracy. After returning from the Holy wars, he accepts bestowment of a small parcel of land in return for saving King Edward’s life. But the reward comes with a warning regarding the estate’s mistress. Despite his insatiable attraction to the black-haired beauty, he allows her time to warm to him while observing her strange, forward-thinking ways. But when all is on the line, will he stand by her through the inquisition or will they both hang for her secrets?

  Available now on Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/nvjyevz

  HOW TO MARRY YOUR WIFE

  Year of our Lord, 1283

  Sir Thomas D’Agostine has craved the naked beauty standing before him for six long years. This time, they’ll marry with a priest, by God, not by hand-fasting. Then he will make the girl he once loved fall into his arms with eager kisses. Certainly, a man can seduce his own wife!

  Hadrian’s Wall? Lady Meredith nearly collapses at the thought of weeks of travel over dangerous terrain filled with outlaws. True, her son is his. But Thomas has been gone so long he is presumed dead. How can a ghost reclaim a marriage? Can a shattered heart be mended?

  Available now on Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/jhnugdd