by Lynsay Sands
Chapter Eleven
Another coughing fit seized Hugh. He reached for his ale, grunting and nearly slopping the liquid everywhere as Jollivet began thumping enthusiastically on his back.
" 'Twould appear you are ailing, Hugh," his cousin commented cheerfully. "You would not be planning on dying, would you? If so, 'tis terribly kind of you to leave the field clear for me to marry Willa. "
"Ha ha," Hugh growled, knocking the other man's arms away with his elbow so that he could soothe his throat with the ale. "Do that again, and you shall be the one in danger of dying. " That comment was followed by another round of coughing. Hugh was gasping for breath by the time it ended.
"You really do not sound well, friend. " Unlike Jollivet, Lucan actually sounded concerned. But Hugh was now feeling too miserable to appreciate it. He'd had a runny nose and hacking cough all day, but the coughs were growing deeper, stealing more of his breath with each onset. Perhaps some rest would help.
Hugh sighed at the thought of actually sleeping. How long had it been since he'd had a full night's rest?
"Perhaps Eada has something to ease that cough," Wynekyn suggested as Hugh was wracked with another bout of coughing.
Grimacing at the very thought of the old witch and her potions, Hugh shook his head and stood. "Sleep will set me to rights. Good night. "
He went up the stairs without waiting for a response. Willa had retired several minutes earlier. Once again Hugh had waited so she would have a few moments alone to prepare. They were newly wed and hadn't yet enjoyed the intimacy of an actual wedding night. She would still be shy around him. Hugh had no desire to make her uncomfortable. It had been a long day. Hugh had personally questioned everyone with any reason to be near either the kitchens or his bedchamber. Unfortunately, no one had admitted to delivering the poison or even seeing it delivered.
He also had arranged for Alsneta's nephew, Gawain, to act as taster for Willa's food and had set Baldulf and two younger men to guard her. He'd sent men out to learn all they could about the name Evelake. He'd instructed them to find the family, learn its circumstances, and discover Willa's connection to it. They also were to discover what possible reason there could be for someone to wish her dead. He hoped these inquiries would be more successful than those about the poisoned meade.
Hugh also had planned to search his uncle's room, but had been distracted by pressing matters concerning the estate he'd inherited. He was coming to learn that there was more to running a castle than hiring skilled men to do it for you. There were several questions he'd needed to answer, decisions to be made, men to yell at. It had all been very satisfying, he thought with a smile as he reached the top of the stairs and started along the hall. Still, he really would have to search his uncle's room on the morrow. He had to get to the bottom of the mystery surrounding Willa's past. The longer the mystery remained unsolved, the longer her life would be in danger, and Hugh found he didn't like that at all. He might not have wished to marry her initially, but she was his now, and he'd be damned if anyone was going to take her from him!
Recalling the state she'd been in last night, he felt his teeth grind together. She'd been pale and trembling. He'd felt sure she would die. If she had, it would have been his fault. Willa deserved some happiness and he was just the man to give it to her. Of course, that would have to wait a bit. He knew she must be drained and exhausted, as he was. But just as soon as they were both rested, he would set to the business of making her happy. It was his job. He was her husband.
Nodding at the men standing guard outside his bedchamber, he opened the door and strode in. However, Hugh paused after taking a single step through the door. He had expected the room to be dark with perhaps a dim glow from the dying embers in the fireplace. It wasn't. The chamber was aglow with light, both from a roaring fire in the hearth, and a dozen candles placed about the chamber.
He would have to talk to Willa about waste, Hugh thought. Then his gaze landed on the bed. His wife sat upright, the linens resting at her waist, revealing the top of a thin chemise. . . a very thin chemise, he realized with dismay. He could see the aureolas of her nipples through the cloth. A rustle behind him reminded Hugh of the men in the hall and he promptly stepped forward and pushed the door closed.
He hesitated a moment then, trying to make his weary brain function and work out what the woman was up to. Hugh had been quite certain that she would be asleep on his arrival and found it difficult to understand why she wasn't. But then it struck him that she had probably thought he would wish to consummate the marriage. No doubt she had stayed awake to accommodate him as a good wife should. Hugh relaxed. She would probably be relieved that he didn't intend to bother her this night.
Offering a smile, he moved around the room, blowing out the candles one after the other. Once the last taper had been doused and the room was filled with only the fire's soft glow, he approached the bed and began to strip. Aware of her steady gaze on him, Hugh felt oddly self-conscious as he removed his clothes. Her gaze prompted him to move a little more swiftly than he normally would have; just moments later he slid into bed next to her. He hesitated, then offered a gruff "good sleep" before turning on his side away from her. Hugh settled down to sleep, sure that his wife would do the same. . . until the bed shifted and he became aware of the patter of her feet crossing the floor. The sound returned a moment later and the bed shifted again. Then he felt her lean against his side and there was suddenly bright light shining through his closed eyelids. He lay still for a moment, but when she stayed where she was, Hugh opened one eye curiously.
She was leaning on him, as he'd thought, a candelabra held bare inches from his face. Hugh scowled at the sight of the lit candles.
"Wife?" he asked, keeping his tone pleasant.
"Aye?" came her equally pleasant response.
"What are you doing?"
"I am waiting for my husband to do his duty. What are you doing?"
"What?" Hugh rolled over abruptly, sending her flying backward. Catching Willa's arm before she could tumble off the bed, he snatched the candelabra she was waving wildly around. Maintaining his hold on her, he twisted to set the candleholder on the chest on his side of the bed, then turned back to glare at her.
"You cannot wish to consummate the marriage now!" he cried with disbelief.
"Well, of course I do not wish to!" When Hugh stiffened at the insult, she said, "Eada explained that 'tis going to be unpleasant and painful the first time. Of course, I do not look forward to suffering pain. However, it must be done and I would rather not spend another day agonizing over what is to come. Two days of worry are quite enough. So, if you would be so kind, do you think you could plant the twins now?"
Hugh felt himself sag. It hadn't occurred to him that she would be full of worry over the deed to come. That had been rather short-sighted of him, he realized. After all, even he had been suffering some mild anxiety over his first time with a virgin, but at least he knew what was to come. It was all a new and frightening experience for her. Of course, she would be anxious. A huge yawn escaped him, ending in a cough, and he saw concern enter her eyes. It seemed cruel to put her through another day of anxiety. Weary as he was, he would manage the task for her.
"Very well," he said with a long-suffering sigh.
"Oh, thank you, my lord," Willa breathed with relief, then promptly fell back on the bed pulling the linens up with her. She lay with her eyes squeezed shut and the linens clutched tightly to her throat, knuckles growing white with the pressure of her hold. She was as taut as a bowstring.
Hugh stared at her with pursed lips. She looked as if she expected either to be beheaded or raped, he thought with a sigh. Then she puckered her lips as if having sucked on a lemon. He presumed that was an invitation to kiss her. I really don't have the energy for this, he thought miserably, but merely cleared his throat.
Her eyes popped open at once, a question in their depths.
"The. . . e
r. . . " He gestured toward the linens she was so desperately clutching and she glanced down with seeming surprise.
"Oh!" She flushed. "I suppose we shan't need these. " She tossed the linens aside, then hesitated and slid out of bed.
"What - ?" Hugh began. The question died on his tongue as she bent to grab the hem of her shift and tugged it upward.
"Eada explained everything to me," she told him, continuing to draw the shift up to reveal legs, hips, belly. . . "From what she said I suppose this will get in the way, too. " She pulled the gown up over her head and shrugged her arms free. Her face was cherry red with embarrassment. She briefly used the material as a shield to cover herself from upper thighs to the tops of her nipples, then quickly scooped her hair before each shoulder with one hand and dropped the gown. As a cover, her hair was both effective and ineffective. It covered her breasts, flowing down over them from her shoulders and continuing down to the front of her legs. However, it left the outsides of her shoulders, the curve of her hips, and the juncture of her legs bare. Hugh had a moment to ogle her, then the golden tresses went swinging as she scrambled anxiously back into bed. She quickly tugged her hair to cover herself before settling, eyes squeezed shut again, and hands once more fisted at her sides. It took a moment for her to remember; then she puckered her lips, as well.
Hugh wanted to laugh, but found it hard to get the sound past the lump in his throat as he gazed at her beauty in the soft light. His gaze slid over her face, down her throat to her breasts. They were mostly covered by her hair, but the nipples were poking out like naughty children peering through bushes. He finally tore his eyes from the little red-brown pebbles to slide along her flat belly, down to the soft red-gold curls at the juncture of her thighs.
Oh, yes. He could do this, Hugh decided. His exhaustion was dropping away even as his manhood grew. He took a moment to enjoy the anticipation, his gaze skating over her shapely legs right down to her plump little toes. Then he eased onto his side, facing his wife. He propped his head on one upraised hand and leaned forward to press his lips to hers. She was stiff with tension, even her lips having no give. However, Hugh recalled the passion they had shared in the stable by the cottage and was patient.
He brushed her lips lightly with his own; once, twice, then a third time. Then he slid his tongue out to tease her puckered mouth. When that had little effect, he nuzzled her neck. She relaxed somewhat, a breathless laugh slipping from her lips as he tickled the sensitive flesh. Smiling, Hugh raised his head to find that the pucker was gone. He kissed her again, then let his tongue slip out to tease her full lower lip. She relaxed slowly, allowing her mouth to drift slightly open to him. Relieved that it had been so easy, he deepened the kiss, tilting his head and taking her mouth in a devouring caress.
He continued to kiss her for several moments until he thought she'd forgotten her fears, then he brushed the long strands of soft hair away from one breast and cupped it gently. Willa stiffened slightly, but showed no other response, so he fondled the breast, palming it, then catching the nipple between thumb and forefinger. Hugh enjoyed the feel of her soft flesh against his callused skin. She was kissing him back, which he took to be a good sign and he continued to touch her as he ran through the instructions from the treatise in his head. Preparations of the mind and body beforehand were out of the question now, but he didn't think that would matter. He didn't feel any burning desire to relieve himself. As for the rest. . .
"You see, women differ from men in that they are cold. . . 'Tis necessary to. . . er. . . fondle the wife's 'lower parts' to. . . er. . . raise her body to the proper. . . er. . . heat - " Father Brennan's words rang in his ears.
"How do you know when she is the correct temperature?" He'd asked, and the man had answered, ". . . she will begin to 'speak as if she were babbling. ' That is when you shall know to commence with the actual. . . commencing. "
Hugh hadn't had the chance to read all of De secretis Mulierum, but what he'd read had confirmed the priest's words. Breaking the kiss, he rubbed his thumb over her nipple, then bent to draw her flesh into his mouth. Willa didn't feel cold to him, but she wasn't babbling incoherently, either, now that her mouth was free. In fact, she wasn't making any sounds at all, he realized with a small frown. Not even the little moans and mewls of pleasure she'd made in the stable. She didn't even have her arms around him as she had then. They were lying - hands still fisted - at her sides.
Disconcerted by this realization, he wondered briefly if perhaps it might not be her position that was the problem. They had been standing in the stable; perhaps she was not as aroused lying down. He briefly considered urging her into an upright position, then decided against it. The treatise had said nothing about standing. It had said to fondle her lower regions until she babbled, so he would fondle her till she babbled. Continuing to suckle at her breast, he let his hand drift down over her belly, relief coursing through him as the muscles in her stomach quivered beneath his fingertips. Surely that was a good sign? Hugh slid them through the soft hair between her legs and dipped them in to find her core. His eyes slid closed when he found her warm and moist and welcoming. That had to be a good sign, too, he thought, straining to hear any babbling.
She wasn't babbling. But then, he'd just started, he reassured himself. She would babble. He intended to do this right.
Willa's head was about to explode like a rosebud bursting open at the kiss of sunlight. Hugh was driving her mad.
Eada's edict that she wasn't to say anything wasn't helping. Willa had the maddening need to move and groan and writhe and cry out. She was biting all of that back. Not that Eada had said she couldn't move, but she had said that he would tell her if she should, and he hadn't told her and she was afraid of doing something wrong. She wished to be a good wife. Besides, she was sure that if she arched and writhed as she wished to, she would be unable to keep herself from moaning.
Hugh's hand slid between her legs and Willa closed her eyes briefly, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands as she fought her body. Oh this was. . . this was. . . oh dear God. She wanted to clasp him to her breast. She wanted to drag his head away from her breast and pull him up to kiss her again. She wanted to arch into his caresses and -
Cold air touched her wet nipple as he raised his head and Willa blinked her eyes open, managing what she hoped was a serene smile but suspected was more of a grimace as he glanced up at her. She noted the perplexity in his gaze and tried harder to smile, relieved when he bent his head to her other breast.
Dear God! Why wasn't she allowed to say anything? Eada had said, "There's nothin' a man hates more than a babbling bride in his bed. Just keep your mouth shut. Say nary a word. That shall please him more than anything else ye could do, I'm sure. "
But, dear God, she was paying a heavy price for her silence.
Hugh raised his head again. Willa managed another grimacing smile. A bewildered expression passed over his face and he watched her closely. Then he left off his caressing and she felt him thrust one finger inside her. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from crying out, her expression twisting with the effort, her body as taut as could be to keep from riding his hand. This was becoming more painful than pleasurable.
Much to Willa's relief, Hugh shook his head slightly, and took his hand away. Finally, she thought. Finally, he would just get it over with. That was all she wished now. For him to mount her as Eada had said he would and plant the twins. She could not bear much more of this. She'd barely had that thought when she realized that he was not moving to mount her. He was moving down the bed to be sure, but he was -
"Ah!" The word slipped from her lips despite her best efforts when his head disappeared between her legs and she felt a caress like warm, wet velvet. The first touch sent pleasure through her like none she'd ever experienced. Her body seemed to contract under wave after wave of some release. Then Hugh raised his head, a hopeful expression on his face.
"Did you say somethin
g?"
"Nay," Willa lied on a breathy sigh. Hope entered her own expression. "Did you wish me to say something?"
He hesitated, frowning again, then shook his head in a bewildered way and again disappeared between her legs. Disappointed, Willa bit her lip as he set back to work on her sensitive flesh. His caress was almost too much to bear. She almost groaned aloud as the excitement began to build in her again. Oh, this was awful. She could not withstand another - She bit off a gasp, and strained not to move as he inserted a finger inside her while continuing his oral caresses. She could not bear. . . could not. . . she. . . Even though her mouth was tightly closed, and her teeth were grinding together, she heard a high keening sound come from her as the waves of pleasure burst upon her again. She cut the sound off abruptly, hoping he'd not heard her as Hugh raised another hopeful gaze.
"I thought I heard something?"
She shook her head a bit frantically, aware that her breath was coming through her nose like that of a snorting bull. And was that more attractive than talking? she wondered a little resentfully. But perhaps he could not tell from his position.
"Hmm. " He scratched his head, apparently greatly troubled by something. Then determination entered his eyes and he ducked out of sight again.
Willa felt tears gather in her eyes as he set to work again. This was awful! This was some form of hellish torment!
That was it, she realized quite suddenly. She'd died from the poisoning and gone to hell. She was to suffer through all eternity with this unbearable pleasure pounding at her as she tried to keep from moving or making a sound. Oh, the devil was a diabolical beast!
That was her last almost sensible thought before she was overwhelmed by pure sensation. Her body thrummed to the touch of the man who could only be the devil's assistant. She knew from the moment that the passion began to build in her that this time it was going to kill her if she could not react. Her eyes were tearing, her heart pounding, and her body trembling with the effort not to speak or move. She would surely die. Then, just as a hurricane-sized wave of pleasure was about to overtake her, some friendly demon placed an idea in her head. Willa clamped her thighs on either side of Hugh's head to deafen him as she rose up on the bed and screamed for all she was worth. It was a magnificent scream. All those little grunts and groans and moans and sighs that she'd been forced to hold in, all the physical responses she'd denied herself, all of this combined into one glorious earth-shattering shriek of pure pleasure. It was most satisfying. Almost as satisfying as the pleasure that roared through her. She was so consumed by her fulfillment, it took a moment to realize that Hugh was clawing frantically at her legs, trying to free himself.
Falling back limp on the linens, Willa let her legs drop away and stared woozily at the top of the draped bed. She felt quite intoxicated with pleasure. If this was hell, she was all for it. Hugh came up gasping for air, which led to a coughing fit of gigantic proportions. Willa was strong. Once her legs had clamped around his head, he'd been unable to remove them. His gaze turned to her hopefully as his coughing ended. He'd hoped that her closing her legs like that was a good sign, that perhaps she'd started into her babbling. Instead the woman looked dead bored. She was lying as still as she had throughout, her glazed eyes fixed on the drapings over the bed. She wasn't even tense anymore. Her fear obviously had been completely wiped away by the boredom she suffered. He was a complete failure.
Despondency overtaking him, he sank back on his haunches and glared at his lap. His manhood, of course, was not bored. He'd grown harder and stiffer with every moment as he'd attempted to pleasure her. She was so warm and soft. Just looking at her was pure enjoyment; tasting and touching her had excited him beyond anything he'd experienced before. Despite the fact that he had not raised her temperature as the treatise had instructed, he wanted her. Badly. Not only was he a failure, he was a despicable failure.
"Are you going to plant the twins now?"
Hugh glanced up sharply at that question. Her voice was euphoric; she sounded almost drunk. However, she still looked limp and bored. Perhaps it was his hearing at fault. She'd squeezed his head rather hard. He stuck a finger in one ear and jiggled it about briefly, then did the same to the other ear.
"My lord?"
He gave up on his ears and glanced at her still face. "Do you wish me to?"
"Oh aye," she breathed.
Well, he recalled now, the De secretis mulierum had said that a man's heat created the excitement in the woman and that she was strengthened by the joining. At least he knew he wouldn't be hurting her. But it would be a shame if she finally got excited only after he'd poured his heat and strength into her. He very much feared he wouldn't have the energy to do anything about her excitement once he was done. His exhaustion was creeping back up on him.
Shrugging, he moved between her legs.