At once, Lady Bergavny excused herself, half dragging her lord from the room.
Ignoring the hasty departure of the Bergavnys, Corin kissed Melisande. Marriage to this beauty certainly won’t be a chore, he predicted. After a few moments, he felt moisture touch his cheek. He pulled away to look into her eyes. “What is it, dear one?”
“I am sorry, Corin. I really do not know. Mayhaps it is the impulsiveness of it all. For years, I thought I’d never give myself away in marriage again.”
Corin led her back to the bench. “Let us sit quietly for a while,” he said softly and put his arms around her as a comfort. I have come this far with this girl and will not lose her to any childish fears, he mused, then wondered how the siege was progressing. He had not allowed himself to think about it for over twelve hours now, for fear that it would show in his face. Mayhaps bedding the wench now will erase the smallest trace of apprehension she might possess.
By the warm glow of the fire Melisande had fallen asleep wrapped in his arms and he dozed off and on, hardly able to quiet his mind over the coming tempests—the weather outside and the capture of Dupree.
A servant girl stepped into the room. “Beggin’ yer pardon, sir, mum?”
“What is it?” Corin whispered so as not to wake Melisande.
“M’lord and lady have retired for the evenin’ and I am to see to yer’s and Lady Dupree’s needs.”
“Very well, we shall inform you if we are in need.”
The moment the servant had quit the room, Melisande’s eyelids fluttered open and she stared at the low fire.
“Hungry?”
“Not particularly at the moment. You?”
“Not too. I am enjoying this—you sleeping in my arms… The fire…”
“If the rest of our life is like this, Corin, I shall be the happiest woman in England.”
He smiled and kissed her on the top of her head. If you promise to obey I shall be the happiest of men. “Here, let me take down your hair. Having it pulled back like that must get uncomfortable at times.”
Melisande sat up and presented her back to him.
Corin gently tugged at the ribbon and untwined the three thick strands. He ran his fingers through the light-golden waves and inhaled her scent.
Aye. Quite the prize.
Melisande exhaled a soft sigh of pleasure. “You are correct. It feels wonderful to have it down.”
“I should like you to wear it this way as we travel.” He rubbed the silky locks possessively between his fingertips.
“I will have to fight my maids, but I shall win the day for you.” She giggled.
“Your maids?”
“Aye, they insist I have a hat on, or at the very least braids coiled on top of my head. Verily, ’tis but trivial stuff and utter nonsense.” They laughed together and Melisande settled back into his arms.
He listened to and interpreted her sigh. Within the sound he detected more discontent than wistfulness.
“What thoughts plague you this eve, my dear?” he asked her, feeling slightly anxious that she might unkiss their agreement.
“Nay. Nothing to concern yourself with,” she replied.
The wood on the fire crackled. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine that he could have something like this with her. However, once he tried to visualize her conforming to his plans as the conquered should when their castle was taken, he suspected that such an ideal situation might never come to pass.
“Corin?”
“Aye?
She turned in his arms to look at him. “You are everything a woman could want, and I fear I do not deserve you.”
Corin chuckled. “Then you must gain a higher opinion of yourself.”
“I?”
“Mm. Imagine if you will, for a moment, living in the King’s palace.”
“Oh, I could never…” she replied, looking away.
“And why not?”
“Well, it is so…so…extravagant.”
“Melisande. When we are married, I plan to lavish you with extravagance.” Her look of surprise was quite charming. “Did you think everything would stay the same once we become husband and wife?”
“In honesty, I never thought about it.”
“Do not worry your pretty little head over this. I will take care of everything.”
She smiled and reclined against him once again.
By and by, Melisande sat up. “I think I might like to have a little something to eat now.”
“Very well. You rest here and I shall fetch us a bite or two from the larder.” He arose from the bench and placed a brief kiss on her forehead.
“You are a very thoughtful man.” She smiled up at him.
“I am at your beck and call, dear one.”
Once Corin had left the room, Melisande jumped up, grabbed her lute then hurried up the stairs.
“Good eventide, m’lady.” Maggie stood, ceasing her packing for the trip back to Dupree. “Your hair! It—”
“Never mind the state of my hair, Maggie, where are my sleeping gown and winter robe?” Melisande asked in haste, placing her lute at the foot of the bed.
“I shall fetch them out of the trunk for you.” Maggie rushed over to one of the trunks and dug around until she found the garments.
“Where is Tilly?” Melisande asked as Maggie helped her off with her tunic.
“Saying farewell to…” She finished slowly, as if reluctant to share the information. “Some friends of ours from Willowbrook.”
“Friends, hmm?” she replied, unable to hide her smirk.
“Aye, m’lady. We did, after all, have some time on our hands while you were in London, and—”
“I hope in nine months’ time, your bellies are not so swollen that you cannot help me dress,” Melisande half teased
“Oh, nay, m’lady, never.”
At the concern on Maggie’s countenance, Melisande spun away from her maid with her hand on her own abdomen, belatedly hoping that Devin’s seed had not taken root within her.
“M’lady, are you ready to be dressed?”
“Indeed, of course.” Melisande turned back to Maggie for assistance with the chemise.
The very second Maggie was finished, Melisande burst forth from her chamber. She paused at the top of the stairs to catch her breath and smooth her hair over one shoulder.
Just as she returned to the bench in front of the fire, Corin appeared carrying a large assortment of food.
“So, is that where you had run off to? I came back to ask if you wanted your cider warmed and you were gone.”
“I wanted to be more comfortable. Do you find it agreeable?” She stood and twirled around for him.
Corin set the salver upon a table and approached Melisande, his beautiful dark brown gaze penetrating into her very soul. “It matters naught what you wear, dear one. In fact, you must look even better without anything at all covering your skin,” he said as he lifted a curl from her breast.
“You rogue,” she said, and playfully hit him with the sleeve of her robe. Corin pulled her to him and kissed her ravenously. She complied, losing herself in the action.
“Corin, I am hungry,” she said against his lips.
“As I am, my lady,” he growled.
“I think we should eat now, I mean.”
Corin chuckled. He brought the food to Melisande and they sat.
They played through the late snack, laughing, teasing and feeding each other little bites of bread and meat. He showed her how sucking on each other’s fingertips and kissing away bits of food from lips and chins could be oh so arousing. As her belly filled, her appetite for fulfillment increased. After all, he’s been most considerate this night and has treated me with a wondrous mix of respect and care for my person… Melisande pushed aside the fact that she was trying desperately to convince herself that this was the correct course.
Redirecting her attention to the situation at hand, she observed Corin in the red-orange glow of the firelight. His every move a
nd deed focused on her, his attentiveness drawing her heart closer and closer to him.
Corin set aside the salver and took her in his arms. “You have both a question and its answer in your eyes, dear one.”
Aye, she wanted him to make love to her. Why should she now deny herself the pleasure?
Without another word, he scooped up Melisande as if she weighed less than a single stone and headed up the stairs toward her chamber. When they came to the door, they heard the maids talking and carrying on inside.
“What about your room?”
“No privacy there. One of my men—that is, my valet—sleeps on a cot at the end of the bed.”
“This must not have been meant to be,” she whispered, her disappointment audible.
He nuzzled her neck. “How big is your bed at Dupree?”
“We could lose each other in it.”
“I cannot wait.” He put her down and kissed her tenderly. “Until the morrow, I shall think of you every moment.”
Melisande grinned as she shooed him down the hall. Once through her door, she tiptoed across the floor. Avoiding her busy maids, she crawled into bed, thrilled to be so desired by Corin Sinclair, her future husband.
Chapter Seventeen
It was before dawn when Melisande was dragged out of bed. However, one would have thought that it was the middle of the night. The sky was filled with the black clouds that had been gathering since the day before, and a chilling wind was just beginning to stir. She needed to be properly dressed for the day’s journey, her maids insisted. The traveling costume consisted of a long-sleeved tunic in pale peach and a dark brown surcoat that reached to the ground in a straight skirt. Low riding boots covered her feet to mid-calf, and she wore thick wool hose that reached to her upper legs for warmth. A soft brown leather belt was fastened high above her waist, and after a long, drawn-out battle over Melisande’s hair, Tilly had brushed it out so that it fell in golden curls over her shoulders and down her back. The outfit was finished off with a brown, squirrel fur-lined wrap.
The wagons were being loaded out front as Helena and Melisande said their final farewells near the entrance to the great hall.
“Do have care on your journey and keep warm,” Helena advised as she pulled Melisande’s wrap tighter around her shoulders.
“I shall, and I will send word of the wedding feast. You and Lord Bergavny will attend, will you not?”
“We shall await your word.” Helena took Melisande by the hands, looked straight into her eyes, and spoke softly. “Before you take the final step, listen to your heart.” Helena’s tears spilled down her cheeks then.
“May God grant thee mercy, Helena,” Melisande said as she tightly hugged her friend and swallowed the lump of emotion that had formed in her throat.
“And you,” Helena whispered.
Corin came down the stairs to the main hall with his servants in tow. “Shall we be off, my lady?” He smiled as he offered Melisande his forearm.
She smiled back at him when she accepted his escort and placed her hand onto his wrist. At once she thought about how lovely her life would be from this moment on.
Out of doors, Lord Bergavny had been seeing to the final preparations for Melisande and Corin’s journey, and he greeted them when they emerged from the great hall of Willowbrook.
“Well, my dear, everything awaits your pleasure. I pray you have a swift and unencumbered journey home.”
“I thank you, Lord Bergavny, you have been a most courteous host.”
“And I thank you for gracing us with your talents.”
Melisande curtsied and he placed a kiss on both her cheeks. Lord Bergavny clasped hands with Corin and he and Melisande stepped down to the caravan.
Tilly and Maggie came around to the front of one of the wagons. “Which will you be riding in, m’lady?” Tilly enquired of her mistress, her eyes respectfully downward.
“I shall ride in Mr. Sinclair’s and you and Maggie shall be riding in mine.”
Maggie’s protest came from behind Tilly as both their gazes snapped to Melisande. “But, m’lady, surely—”
Melisande raised her hand to cut off Maggie’s words. “That will be my final word on the subject,” she said firmly. Melisande wondered how she’d ever gotten along without her newfound authority.
She watched as her maids glanced up at Helena with worried looks about their faces. Helena pleasantly smiled at them through her tears and nodded once in support of Melisande. Reluctantly, they climbed into the Dupree wagon, then Corin helped Melisande into his.
The whips snapped at the front and Melisande watched through the small window as they passed Helena and Lord Bergavny. Helena waved with one hand and mopped at her tears with the other. Lord Bergavny placed his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Godspeed,” he called out.
Melisande had many times tried to start a conversation with Corin, but ever since they’d departed from Willowbrook he’d seemed distant. Giving up, she sat quietly in the corner and eventually the motion rocked her to sleep.
A loud clap of thunder startled Melisande awake and she looked out of the small portal. The rain came down in heavy sheets. She glanced over at her traveling companion and saw that his countenance seemed stormy as well. “Corin, is aught amiss? Will all be well for our journey home?”
“If everything goes as expected,” he replied shortly, as if she had asked the question many times over the course of the trip.
It was more words than he had said all morning, yet it was a strange answer to her enquiry. She pondered it a moment longer then asked, “Are you hungry?”
“I ate while you were sleeping.” He retrieved a bundle from a basket on the floor and set it next to her. He sounded cordial enough—however, there wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his face.
“Why did you not awaken me?”
He shrugged. “I did not wish to disturb your slumber. You seemed quite at peace.”
Melisande decided to voice the slight frustration she had with him. “You seem out of sorts or…overly concerned about something, Corin. Is it the storm?”
“Aye, the storm.” He finally gave her a smile. However, there was no evidence of it in his eyes.
She dismissed the change in his personality and opened the bundle of bread and cheese. “Have no fear, Corin. I have yet to see lightning strike a conveyance in motion,” she teased just before she took a bite of the fare. When she’d finished, she retied the bundle and placed it on the seat opposite her and Corin. “I left some bread if you are hungry later.”
“Thank you,” he said flatly, not turning from gazing out of the small window on his side.
Melisande stretched and yawned loudly. Although an unladylike action, she felt comfortable in their nest of privacy.
“Are you still tired, dear one?” he asked, looking at her for the first time in what seemed hours.
“Pray forgive me, my maids were quite loud as they arranged and rearranged my trunks almost until we left this morn.”
“Come. Place your head on my legs and stretch out as much as possible on the rest of the bench,” he insisted.
As she did, Corin covered her with furs and drew the fabric across the portal to block out the light. Within no time her thoughts drifted into slumber again.
* * * *
A particularly large rut in the road caused Melisande to awaken and she hastily sat up on the bench. Moving the thick fabric aside, she peeked out of the window. Finally, the last stretch of road was upon them. It had rained inconsistently all day, yet slow was the going. The mud from the wet roads likely hindered the wheels, making it difficult for the horses to get through. She could see that they were just approaching the outskirts of Dupree property. “It will not be long now,” Melisande said confidently.
Corin’s tense impatience showed from his face and shoulders down his arms to his clenched fists. “Unless the road is completely washed away,” Corin spat through his teeth.
Melisande watched Corin as he looked out of
the opposite window and ran the snarls out of her hair with her fingers. When she was satisfied with her self-appointed task, she turned toward her window. “It seems to get slower as we come closer.”
Corin whipped his head around to glare at her. “Aye, and you speaking of it is not helping the situation,” he snapped.
She turned to him and their gazes locked. Melisande could not decide if she should be angry with the way he was treating her or hurt by it when she noticed the tiny beads of sweat on his upper lip.
“Tell me, Corin, are you still vexed about the storm?”
He did not answer. He merely turned back to his window.
Melisande folded her arms across her chest, jerking her chin in the opposite direction. He is as nervous as a field mouse.
It wasn’t long after that they pulled through the castle gates. Melisande thought it odd that there were no sentries posted upon the parapets as there usually were. The sun had recently set and the storm clouds provided an eerie glow but that certainly wasn’t reason for the lack of guards.
The rain poured down torrentially now as the driver of Corin’s conveyance pulled to a stop very close to the stone steps.
“I cannot imagine what my servants are about,” she commented as she looked to every corner for someone.
Corin quickly helped Melisande on with her cloak. “I am sure they are engaged elsewhere.” He turned from her, shoved open the door, exited the conveyance and took the steps two at a time.
Melisande thought it was strange that he did not wait for her—after all it was her home. She figured it must have been the rain that drove him inside so quickly. Melisande entered the great hall not moments after Corin and shook out her skirts. Again, not a single soul from Dupree greeted them.
It was Corin himself who shut the door and slid the heavy, iron-bound wooden bolt home.
“Corin, my maids will be unloading my instruments through that door,” she stated as she slid her cloak from her shoulders and placed it upon a bench just inside the doorway.
“Nay, they will not,” he replied as if the conversation was over.
“Corin, what has gotten into—” Melisande stopped, having noticed the crowd of strange men looking at her and Corin. They sat scattered about the hall like so much litter. A bad feeling began in her belly and spread to her limbs. “Pray, who are you and where are my servants?”
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