Passion in the Blood

by Markland, Anna

  Rhoni gasped audibly. Tears streamed down Dorianne’s face. What must these people think of her family? “But he has repented. He has seen the error of what he did. Ask Robert.”

  Everyone looked at Robert whose face betrayed his doubt. Somehow, someday she would make Robert see her brother had repented.

  The shock was evident in Mabelle’s voice as she shook her head. “Dorianne, you’re obviously as much a victim of the bitter feud between our families as we have been. I assume you were punished for caring for my son. Though wounded, you’ve been willing to undertake this arduous journey for Robert’s sake.”

  There was no trace of hostility in her voice as she said, “Robert, take this lovely young woman back to her chamber. She needs rest. Has Carys seen her yet?”

  “Non, maman, I was trying to take care of her myself,” he replied sheepishly.

  “Robert, you’re not a healer. Ask Carys to come at once to Dorianne’s chamber.”

  Turning to Dorianne she said softly, “Dorianne, many years ago I was the victim of the consequences of my father’s anger towards your grandfather and the unspeakable things he perpetrated. This family, including Robert, have suffered much because of it. But I know your family has suffered too, and is obviously still suffering from the long held hatreds. You and I must lay that hatred to rest once and for all. It will keep trying to raise its ugly head, but we must defeat it.”

  Dorianne felt dizzy with relief on hearing these words from the Countess. It was the truth, and she grieved her father might not put hatred aside. She was at once filled with hope and despair. How to put that into words other than a simple, but heartfelt, “Merci, Madame Comtesse.”

  Robert turned to his father. “I’ll wed Dorianne as soon as possible, Papa. I would prefer to have the ceremony here with you and Maman present. I want your blessing on this union. It’s important for the good of my soul, and it will be important when we return to face the difficulties awaiting us in Normandie. To be frank we would have difficulty marrying in Normandie without her father’s permission.”

  Smiling, Ram reassured his son, “Take Dorianne to her chamber and we’ll discuss preparations when you return.”

  Robert escorted his betrothed and delivered her into the capable hands of Carys, the healer, daughter of Rhodri and Rhonwen.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Baudoin de Montbryce was conflicted. He was immensely relieved his brother had at last brought home a woman he wanted to marry, a woman he obviously loved. The succession of the Montbryce family through Robert was vital. However, it was typical of Robert to come along and steal the thunder yet again, just as Baudoin was on the point of revealing his love for Carys to his parents.

  After Robert’s stunning revelation of his feelings for Dorianne, he decided it was time to act. He and Carys met secretly in the gallery and he told her the news.

  “Carys, I long for you,” he whispered in her ear, nibbling her earlobe.

  She moulded her body to his. “Baudoin, I want to be yours. I love to feel your strong arms around me.”

  He fingered the ends of her chestnut hair and breathed in its scent, the scent of herbs and wholesomeness that was pure Carys. “We’ll be together my love, despite the obstacles,” he swore.

  She took hold of his hands and put them to her lips. “My mother knows about us.”

  His heart lurched. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s a perceptive woman who knows us both well. What did she say about your father?”

  She twined her fingers in Baudoin’s. “She said there would be difficulties. I reminded her she and my father had difficulties to face when they fell in love.”

  He pressed his arousal against her as they kissed. He traced his fingers over the contours of her breasts and sensed her arousal as she moaned. He was elated he’d been gifted with love and passion in the same woman, a woman who longed to join her body to his, to become one with him.

  “Will your father consent?”

  Her eyes flashed. “You’re my destiny, Baudoin. My father is a great believer in destiny.”

  He leaned his forehead against hers. “I wish I’d resolved this problem earlier. My mother probably believes I’m over my infatuation with you. Now Robert has presented our parents with the dilemma of Dorianne de Giroux.”

  “Why not talk to Robert? He might sympathise with our plight.”

  He hugged her tightly. “I’ll do that, wise Welsh woman.”

  ***

  Carys had assured Robert that Dorianne needed rest and loving care.

  “I can give her that,” he’d replied with a smile. He’d always liked the Welsh girl, though she was Rhodri’s daughter, and could understand his brother’s obvious attraction to her. “Poor Baudoin,” he thought. “As if my marrying a Giroux isn’t a big enough problem, imagine if Baudoin wanted to marry Carys!”

  After Carys’s departure, Robert dismissed Dorianne’s maid, Margene, a girl who’d been with the Montbryce family since childhood. She was the granddaughter of Giselle, Mabelle’s faithful maidservant and chatelaine for many years. Margene eyed Robert curiously and he sensed she felt it inappropriate for him to be alone with Dorianne in her chamber, but she bowed and left.

  Robert sat with Dorianne for a while and they talked over his parents’ suggestions for the ceremony. It was planned to take place in three sennights in the church his father had commissioned. He didn’t want to be away from Saint Germain de Montbryce for such a long period, but at least then Dorianne would be fully recovered. It would give his parents some time to plan a wedding his mother deemed suitable for an Earl’s eldest son.

  Sitting beside Dorianne he became aroused. He wanted to touch her, to run his hands over her, to ignite the passion he sensed in her. The potion Carys had given her was taking effect. The healer had left behind some of her medicinals and he sauntered over to take a look. There was a vial of almond oil. He took out the stopper and inhaled deeply, an arousing vision playing with his thoughts. He brought the vial to Dorianne’s chair and knelt at her feet.

  “Let me soothe you,” he whispered, slipping off her shoes and stockings.

  She sighed and closed her eyes.

  He poured oil into his palm and rubbed his hands together to warm them. He took hold of one foot and massaged it, kissing her toes as he kneaded. He repeated his ministrations with the other foot.

  She exhaled loudly. “No man has ever touched my feet before.”

  Her words sent blood rushing to his groin. He massaged up her skirts to her knees, kissing each in turn and stroking the backs. Then he slowly moved his fingers further and further up. As his fingertips brushed against the tops of her thighs, her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him through long brown lashes. He flared his nostrils. The intoxicating scent of female arousal mingled with the aroma of the almond oil.

  “Let me see you, Dorianne. Let me see all of you,” he murmured, lifting her and carrying her to the bed.

  He carefully peeled down the bodice of her gown to reveal her lovely breasts straining at the light fabric of her shift. He bent to kiss her shoulder then trailed his kisses down to the tip of her breast. He suckled her through the fabric. Her moans aroused him further.

  “May I undress you, my love?” he whispered, as he lifted the dress and shift from her body. “I’ll be gentle.”

  She didn’t resist. Should he continue? Could he pleasure her without meeting his own needs? He sincerely wanted to save that experience for their wedding night. He knelt beside her and looked at her naked body for the first time, finding it difficult to believe he’d stumbled upon this beautiful woman. He poured more oil into his palms and massaged her breasts, feeling the dark nipples harden as he teasingly touched and licked them.

  She arched her back and breathed his name, “Robert—Robert—”

  Sensing her need building, he replenished the oil and resumed his massaging of her thighs. His thumbs came closer and closer to the dark triangle. She writhed and whispered his name more urgently. �
��Robert, Robert.”

  He tore off his shirt and placed his hands on her hips, then drew her legs up on to his shoulders. Her eyes flew open as his mouth claimed her. She tasted sweet and salty at the same time.

  “Robert.” Her plea was more strident now.

  “Hush, Dorianne, hush,” he whispered as his tongue flicked over her most intimate part.

  She cried out her release, clutching the linens, never taking her eyes from his. He wanted to rip off the rest of his clothes and plunge his rock hard erection into her. It took every shred of control he had to lay her quivering body back down on the linens. He left her to find a cloth to wipe the excess oil from her body. She had the sated look of a woman who’d experienced her first orgasmic experience and his heart soared he’d been the one to initiate her. “Wait until we’re married my love. Then we’ll experience paradise together.”

  He rolled her over and smoothed his hands over the healing welts. “I hope I didn’t hurt your scars.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t give them a thought,” she admitted with a languid sigh.

  He kissed her bottom, then brought her a nightgown, tugged it over her head, and covered her with the bed linens. She curled up and dozed off immediately, the potion having its desired effect. He retrieved his clothing, tiptoed out of the room, closed the door, and leaned his head against it. Now he had a problem. What to do with the raging ache at his groin?

  ***

  He turned and bumped into his brother.

  “How is Dorianne?” Baudoin asked with a smile, nodding knowingly at Robert’s obvious discomfort.

  Robert adjusted his leggings, and finished fastening his shirt and doublet. “She’s getting better, brother. I’m helping make sure of it!”

  Baudoin snorted. “No doubt! Listen, Robert—I need to speak with you—you’re probably the only person who will understand a predicament I find myself in.”

  “It’s Carys, isn’t it?”

  Baudoin chuckled, and ran his hand over his forehead. “Is it so obvious? I thought we’d been careful. But I love her, Robert. I’ve been drawn to her from the moment I first met her years ago when she was fifteen. She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. Her smile was dazzling. She had a dark Celtic mystery that intrigued me.”

  Robert laughed. “What you mean is your lance saluted as soon as you saw her!”

  Baudoin looked sheepish. “Well, oui, but she was attracted to me, too. I could tell.”

  “But she was fifteen, Baudoin, too young to understand what happens between men and women.”

  Baudoin shook his head. “Maybe, but don’t forget she’s the daughter of a healer who’s very open on such topics. Anyway, she’s not fifteen now. If you can marry a Giroux, why can’t I marry Rhodri’s daughter? Her father is the Prince of Powwydd, even if he’s our father’s sworn enemy.”

  Robert nodded. “But Papa is aware, as we all are, that Rhodri has not attacked any of our lands since he married Rhonwen, out of respect for our mother.”

  Baudoin snickered. “Rhonwen would have something to say if he did attack Ellesmere. She’s visited here frequently over the years. We’re the closest thing she has to family.”

  “And Papa is the one who has tacitly allowed safe passage for the Welshmen who’ve accompanied her and her children.”

  They walked along the corridor as Baudoin continued. “Rhodri kidnapped the two of us, and I hold no rancour towards him, nor do you. Let’s admit it—we liked him.”

  They paused when they reached Baudoin’s chamber. Robert turned to his brother. “You managed to manipulate our mother into asking Papa to let Carys stay at the castle permanently as one of the resident healers.”

  Baudoin smiled. “Rhonwen has passed on many of her skills to her daughter, and I convinced them that surely the castle folk would benefit. She’s inherited her mother’s mystical abilities to heal. Eventually Papa conceded. I’m sure Maman had her suspicions about my motivation. I don’t know if our parents are aware of it, but Carys and I often meet each other secretly here at Ellesmere.”

  Robert arched his brows and frowned. “Oh, they probably do know. Carys has grown from a lovely girl into a beautiful young woman.”

  Baudoin became wistful. “Maybe I’ve found the one thing I believed I never would, something our parents have.”

  Robert shook his head. “The challenges facing you will be enormous.” Then he laughed and slapped his brother on the back. “What a strange family we are don’t you think, Baudoin? We’re the sons of two people who flout the norm and actually love each other. Caedmon is besotted with his Agneta, and you and I have had the unusual great fortune to fall in love with women we want to marry—though it seems we have chosen the most difficult path possible. It’s the Montbryce family curse! Now, if Rhoni could find someone—”

  Baudoin put his arm around his brother’s shoulder and laughed with him. “And look at our uncles—Hugh with his Devona and Antoine with Sybilla. You’ll have no objection then to my speaking to our parents? It’s not too soon after the shock you’ve given them?”

  Robert’s facial expression changed and he became serious. “Baudoin, we’ll soon be embroiled in the conflict between Henry and Curthose. Take this opportunity and seize your happiness.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ram was angry. “Baudoin, this is too much. I can’t deal with more stress. First your brother comes with this notion of marrying a Giroux and now you want to marry the daughter of my sworn enemy! Rhodri will fight this to the bitter end. He’ll never agree to your marriage, and if he does, his hot-headed sons will never accept it. Your marrying Carys could restart the hostilities we’ve had the good fortune to live without for many years.”

  Baudoin clenched his jaw. They rarely argued, but now his son responded angrily. “Am I then the only Montbryce not to be allowed to wed for love? You’re quick to boast how fortunate you are to be a man who loves his wife, and yet you would deny me the possibility?”

  Ram felt his rheumatic knees wouldn’t support him much longer. “But are you sure you love her, Baudoin? And does she feel the same? Has she considered the ramifications?” he asked, wondering if he’d ever seen Baudoin so animated.

  “Mon père,” Baudoin replied indignantly, “I’m not a child. I’m a man. I was man enough to accompany you to Constantinople on your perilous search for Caedmon, I’m man enough to be the heir apparent to Ellesmere, a castle I’m more or less running already, yet you don’t judge me man enough to recognize love when it stabs me in the heart?”

  Ram watched Mabelle struggle to sort out her mixed feelings. But Baudoin was right, and he sensed Mabelle knew it.

  “Baudoin,” his mother said softly, “Your father and I are happy for your love of Carys. We’re not as young and resilient as we used to be, and sudden shocks are more difficult to accept. I believe it would be rather wonderful if we had a double wedding. Seeing both my sons happily married would be a bright spot in an otherwise rather desperate time.”

  “Thank you, maman,” Baudoin replied, embracing her. “So, Papa, do I have your blessing also?”

  Ram shrugged and said, “Evidently I’m not the head of my own household!” But he smiled as he said, “Oui, but you must now seek out Rhodri.”

  ***

  The first person Baudoin sought out was Carys and he shared his good news with her. “Carys, you know how much I’ve wanted you. Sometimes it takes all my control not to rip the clothes off your body and make love to you. But I’ve held back, fearing we could never be together. I didn’t want to have you as my mistress. My parents have at long last given us their blessing. Will you come now to my chamber?”

  Carys gasped. “I’ve longed to make you mine, Baudoin. I’ve dreamt of it often and the intensity of my dreams has been—”

  Baudoin understood Carys’s deep Celtic belief in the power of her dreams. He kissed her, elated at how aroused she’d become. She parted her lips for him readily and he savoured the warmth of her mouth. She tasted of pepp
ermint. They broke apart and walked arm in arm to his chamber. He unwound the wimple from her hair and inhaled deeply as he ran his fingers through it. “What is the scent in your hair?”

  She smiled. “It’s elder flowers, and burdock root.”

  He nuzzled her nape. “Soft,” he murmured. He put his hands on her hips and lifted off the tabard she wore when she worked.

  “Take off your dress, Carys. I want to see you.”

  She stooped to lift the hem of her dress and raised her arms to lift the garment over her head. His mouth went dry as the fabric whispered against her skin. Though her chemise was ample, he could see the outline of her breasts. The hard pebbles of her nipples were clearly discernible. He’d fondled them many times and pressed his lips to them, but he’d never seen her completely naked. He was afraid if he spoke now, his voice would fail him.

  Without him asking, never taking her eyes from his, and without shame or shyness, she quickly removed the chemise and stood proudly before him. He swallowed hard. “You are magnificent, Carys. So natural and so free. Will you undress me now?”

  She smiled and flared her nostrils. His heart was thudding in his ears. He’d removed his doublet and now wore only his shirt, leggings and braies. She tugged the linen shirt over his head, and ran her delicate hands over the muscles of his chest. When she glanced up at him, he sensed she was hesitant to remove the rest of his clothing. He took her hands in his and placed them on his waist, helping her pull the leggings down over his arousal. She blushed. He stepped out of his leggings and placed her hands on his belly.

  He put his hands on her hips. “Untie my braies, Carys—please,” he coaxed, looking into her eyes.

  She peeled the linen braies from his body. Her breath caught when his shaft sprang free of the confines of the fabric, fully erect. For a moment she looked afraid. He embraced her, pulling their bodies together, his hard male length pressed against her belly. The warmth of her skin penetrated to his core. “Don’t worry, my love. It will be all right. I want to worship you with my body. I’ve burned for you.”