by Robyn Carr
“I would be disturbed had you failed to come,” she said, opening her arms to him.
He grasped her quickly to him, kissing her fiercely, and her mind whirled in joyful pleasure. She held him as tightly, yielding more in her drowsiness than she could have in the cool evening and in full consciousness. She knew she lacked the courage when fully awake to invite him to her this openly, yet she had dreamed of this moment for what seemed like years. Not a day had passed since they left the Chaney house that she hadn’t craved his touch, the wonder of his lips on her flesh, the sensation of his naked power pressing her down into the bed.
And strangely, she did not feel ashamed or shy of these passions that filled her, but rather proud of them.
Royce pulled away to shed his clothing, and although his body was shielded by the darkness, she drank in what she could see of him and became only more courageous with these new feelings. She boldly surveyed his body with her eyes and glowed at what she saw. She heard the sound of her own soft laughter as if it came from across the room. Throwing back the coverlet to let him within, she said, “My lord, you come home to me starved. ‘Tis well. Come, husband.”
“Do not become vain,” he gently teased, tempting a round breast with tender fingers. “Perhaps there was nothing better along the road.”
She kissed his ear and neck and chest. “Your oafish remarks are ill timed,” she whispered.
“Thus far,” he murmured, caressing her with playful strokes down the length of her body, “my timing is perfect.”
She moaned softly, turning in his arms, hungrier for him than she had ever hungered in her life. It had been fear, she thought as she touched him as bravely as he touched her. It had been the fear that they would never again share this that had plagued her. She had been lulled by the more desirable duties of a wife and then had suffered as they were cruelly revoked, replaced only by distance and labor. Long before he left for France she had wanted his strong arms, powerful fingers, hard and heavy thighs, yet he had placed himself sullenly apart from her. Since her arrival at Segeland, she had felt more like a servant than a wife.
She let her hands roam over his muscular back and caress his mighty arms. She turned her face and kissed the fingers that touched her hair. She stroked his hips and thighs lovingly, all the while kissing and nibbling his shoulder, neck, and ear. Never, she thought desperately, you must never shun my bed again.
She opened her body and heart to him, pulling him into her, demanding as she had never dared before, and glowing all over as she heard his sigh of pleasure. She locked slender fingers into the thick hair at the back of his head and rode with him, their ardor mounting in speed and determination.
His sighs were accompanied by the quickening of her gasps as she held him, met him, gave with him, and took from him. And suddenly a wild frenetic bursting shower of fire and ice consumed her.
“Royce!”
She clutched him as if the joy were painful in its crescendo and might never end, until, it ebbing some small bit, she shivered at the wonder of this strange, new sensation.
He murmured thick, barely intelligible words into her hair and neck, holding her damp body tightly. Felise thought of the power she had just experienced and nearly collapsed in delighted confusion. But he was not yet full of her and moved again, a rhythmic pace that slowly built to a demanding thrusting until the explosive pleasure was his, causing him to convulse, shudder, and collapse upon her.
She held him, gently stroking his neck and back as though she tended him in recovery. She had never in all her imaginings contemplated this kind of intimate joy. A whole new world had just been briefly observed. It was as though the curtain had been lifted on the black sky and a universe of stars never seen before had come into her sight. She had wondered before how it was she was lured to his lovemaking, and even why she should crave his touch, finding the pleasant sensations strangely lacking. She chuckled softly as she considered that if this was the benefit of sharing his bed, she would rarely be without a round belly.
“I am not alone in my need,” he whispered, his breath playing teasing little games against her ear that caused her to tremble.
“Aye, but you were alone with the knowledge,” she said, amazed at the brazen laugh in her voice. She would not have believed such adventure could be found with him.
They lay quietly for a while, simply enjoying the moist warmth of their exhausted bodies pressed closely together. When he would have rolled away from her, she stopped him. “Don’t...”
Still, he eased his weight and lay on his side beside her, drawing a moan of despair as he left her body. “You will become spoiled,” he said.
“I beg it. My labors have earned meaning.”
“Who has schooled you in my absence, wench?” he asked. She turned her face toward him, detecting a note of playful cynicism in his voice.
“‘Twas not Colbert,” she laughed. “That grand sheriff fears God and the Testament more than a monk would. Could it have been Hewe? Nay, the boy blushes and runs in fear of your sword. Or Trumble? But that honorable old stag needs a full skin of wine to speak without a stutter to the peevish maid Daria.”
“Whoever,” he said, kissing her ear. “Remind me to thank him.”
“Royce,” she asked seriously, “will you leave me again?”
“May I return to you thusly?” he countered.
“If I swear that you need not journey far to receive a decent welcome in your home, will you stay?”
“I have no pressing duties.”
“Nay, my lord, I mean ... Royce, I do not relish your anger. I do not wish to earn your presence with hardship and long partings.” She paused and bit her lip. “A husband true--that is my desire.”
He lowered his mouth to hers and his kiss was deep and meaningful. “Can you keep the Twyford knights from guarding my door at night?” he asked.
“They are gone, but in their place you will find other distractions.”
“Who could draw my attention from your affection, lady? Is the queen in residence?”
Felise drew in her breath and willed herself further bravery. “Nay, messire. ‘Tis the lady Celeste.”
Royce instantly stiffened, caught completely off guard by the news. Many thoughts assailed him. He had sent a short note apologizing to Celeste, a letter of explanation to her father, and nothing at all to Boltof. He had avoided her very carefully while in London prior to his journey to Aquitaine. And now he returned to this. “Here?”
“And Sir Boltof. They have been here for nearly a week.”
“And you made them welcome?”
“Aye. I thought you would have it so.”
He moaned in equal parts of despair and anger. “What is it they wish of us ... now?”
“Friendship. That is their spoken purpose, Royce.”
“Ah, friendship. And has Boltof been civil?”
“He does not court me,” she said. “But I am not at ease.”
“Does he threaten you?”
“Nay.”
“And Celeste?”
She blinked her eyes fearfully closed. “She is kind.”
He sat up abruptly, a loud groan escaping him. He threw his long legs over the side of the bed, sitting upright beside her and jostling her in the process.
“Do you leave me now?” she asked, a tearful whimper in her voice. He turned in wonder at the question. “I would know the truth, messire. I know you grieve for her, and I cannot remove myself and place her in my stead. Not by will nor by authority. But I would know the truth; can you not share my bed with her close presence in this hall?”
“Felise?” he questioned.
“I prayed you would somehow forget your desire for her, that somehow I could make you forget. If it cannot be so, I would have the truth. I will not stand quietly aside while you struggle with your anguish over losing her.”
“My God,” he breathed. “You think I love her?”
“It is what you let me believe,” she quietly confessed.
>
He began to laugh at the idiocy of what his silence had won him. “Did you pity me that I had to give up so much and settle for so little in a wife?” he asked, his voice choked with laughter.
Felise did not catch the jest. She began to weep. The pressures of having those two within her house had greatly tired her. “I know you had no choice and I will abide by my obligations as well as you.”
His mouth found hers and he rolled with her on the bed, clutching her fiercely to him. He let his lips roam the supple mounds and curves of her body and he chuckled softly as she responded to his touch as naturally as before.
“So, woman, you need yet more assurance of my preference? Then let this be a night of tests, that you never doubt me again.”
As he touched, teased, played, and possessed, Felise gained a glowing rapture that would light her from within for days and months and years to come. By the time the rooster crowed, she found little room for doubt.
Sixteen
Segeland did not boast gardens, winding paths, fountains, or other fancy accoutrements, although there was room for such and one day the place might be so endowed. For the moment it was a purely functional house. Royce lingered in the yard between the keep and the stables, trying to envision a more decorative area for the future, a place that his wife might view from her chamber window once the bricked enclosure was opened again. He would see it done before spring ventured further onto the land.
He heard the doors opening and noticed that the one he had sent for had come. When he had awakened, early this morning, he had found Vespera in the dining hall and asked her to fetch Lady Celeste. Vespera guided the woman, pointed toward Royce, and then gently closed the door. Celeste, cloaked against the morning chill, approached him warily.
Royce walked a few steps toward her, reaching out a hand to her. She pulled her hand from inside her fur-lined cloak and accepted his, although her expression was stern. Royce had not expected delight from her upon their reunion. In truth, he had not expected to see her at all, much less in his own house. He bowed over her hand and kissed it.
“Why do you call me out of my warm bed to come into the cold? Could we not as well meet before the fire in the hall?”
“My apologies, lady. I owe you many. As to the first concern, I wanted your ear before anyone’s and I wished our conference to be private.” He cast his eyes about and saw that only a few of the most ambitious pages and castlefolk wandered between keep and stable and town. “There is no closet or corner from which an eavesdropper could listen to us, and any observers from the hall or stable will see that we keep a discreet distance.”
Celeste stiffened and pursed her lips, but her expression was of pain, not anger. Her pale blue eyes began to tear and she lifted her chin a notch, speaking with a slightly quavering voice. “Indeed, we must remain discreet, whatever else.”
He sighed heavily. “You are so bitter, Celeste.”
She cast her eyes downward and Royce felt a sharp pang of sympathy. Bitterness and hatred, both of which he felt he deserved from her, were not easy emotions for Celeste to maintain. But he had hurt her so deeply.
“I would not have expected less, lady. Truly I know better than anyone how badly 1 spurned you. Yet all I can offer you now is my deepest apology. There is naught else.”
When her eyes rose to his, he saw that tears marked her cheeks. “And I am left with nothing at all. Soiled by you, cast off by you.”
“The best of plans oft go awry,” he said.
“Our plan, my lord, left me soiled for another.”
Royce frowned. “I warned you, early, that should I die upon the field, you would be ill-suited as a bride. Yet ‘twas a risk you desired to take.”
“I think, perhaps, burying you would have left me more dignity than this.”
He rubbed the back of his neck as though he worried with finding the right words. “Some things need to be settled between us. First, I am poor at present; though I am rich of dowry and future revenues, the improvements on this place have paupered me. But I am prepared to promise you a small pension to be delivered later ... perhaps in two years. Should you marry at a future time, the sum will increase your dower purse. Should you seek retirement, it would provide sustenance for your future.
“I would consider it a gift to ease my conscience, for I know your situation is at present dire, and part of that is because of me.”
“Oh, Jesu, part? What portion of my plight does not rest on your conscience?”
“I do not wish to quarrel, Celeste. Do not force me to be cruel.”
“God above, I would never urge your further cruelty. Rogue that you are, you coaxed a virgin’s answer, spoiled me for other men and that--”
“You were not a virgin,” he said flatly.
Her eyes focused on his, widening at the remark, and her hand, which had been tucked into her cloak, came out raised as if to strike. He grasped her wrist and held it there.
“I did not seduce you, lady, but ‘twas much the other way. And the evidence you would have me take for your maidenhood was a meager trick played by harlots for many years. Yea, I had my doubts even then, but was not a clever stag, for women were not much a pastime of mine. And it did not matter to me; I do not chastise you even now.” He took in a breath and seemed to rise taller, with conviction in his voice. “My wife was a virgin. Your seduction was a ploy and a trap.”
Celeste began to tremble and weep openly, appearing to be crushed to her very core. “Royce,” she sobbed pleadingly, “I loved you.”
He put his hands on her upper arms. “I believe you,” he said as gently as he could. “I will tell you again, I do not chastise you even now. Some youthful mistake; a misguided step? You were not a child when I met you, lady. I don’t judge you harshly. I know you cared deeply and wished marriage with me. So strongly, dear lady, that you gambled I would be trapped by your lost virtue.” He paused for a moment, lifting her chin and looking deeply into her eyes. “I believe you would have been true as a wife.”
“Why do you tell me this? Why do you humiliate me? What is your plan? To swear to my father that I played you false? Is it not enough that we have been as one and you eased your affections on my humble body and now ... now, I am abandoned to be the ward of a selfish and oafish brother and crippled father?”
“Cease, lady! I did not call you here to listen to your tirade, but to settle my debt to you. I did not beg you to wait upon my desire for marriage; that you did of free will. I accepted the betrothal contract willingly, broke it willingly, and on that account I owe you. As to your oafish brother-- yea, you are his responsibility if you cannot find a husband. And your father? Must you count him crippled when he has done as well by you as any whole father? Think, Celeste, on whose shoulders this burden truly lies. ‘Tis you who chose all those things that have brought you to this place.”
She sniffed loudly, pulling a cloth from inside her mantle to dry her eyes and nose. Her fingers trembled and he took it from her to help, holding it under her nose as a father would for a small child.
“I am to accept some pension and go on my way?” she asked.
“First you must tell me why you are here.”
“We are calling as those of good breeding should, to offer congratulations and bring gifts.”
He slowly shook his head. “You did not wish to come here. You knew the experience would be shameful for you. Being here at all leaves you little dignity.”
“Boltof urged me to rise above my misfortune and--”
“Nay, lady, I do not believe you. Why has Boltof brought you here? The truth now, for you know you lie poorly.”
She gave a slight huff, like a child caught in a lie. “It is unfair that you demand so much of me. You are the man who has known me in the closest way, and whatever you think--youthful mistake or misguided virgin--no one has known so much of me. My truths, dreams, hopes, and deepest devotion have been yours. Perhaps there were those suitors who roughly courted me and took before I could give ...”<
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Royce arched an eyebrow in stunned but amused silence. Suitors? Celeste was not a wanton woman. She was unusually kind and soft-spoken and dedicated. But something he had suspected and paid little heed to was now coming out more clearly. She was not terribly clever. In fact, she was foolish and naive, although not a tender maiden by any means. From her statement, it was apparent she might have attempted to use her body as a ploy with more than one man to gain marriage. Royce began to count himself lucky that their plans had been foiled. And she went on undaunted, missing his surprised expression.
“But with you ‘twas all different. I loved you so much. I lived for your slightest nod, a glance, a touch. I held so true and waited so patiently for you to settle marriage with me, the woman whose bed you willingly shared. I gave my secret dreams to you and let you know me so well that even now, betrayed by you, you can easily read my thoughts and demand truth. Why should I help you? I should hate you.”
He took her limp hand in both of his, rubbing it as if to warm it. He saw Celeste as an ally now, for she would foolishly tell him anything he wished to know, if he carefully questioned her. “I concede your disappointment and indeed heartache. But you’ve little reason for hate. Had Henry not bade me take Lady Felise, we would be wed now, and that is the truth.”
“You did not ask for Felise?” she questioned slyly.
“Nay, I sought out Henry for your brother, as the two of you insisted.” He peered at her closely. “Do you doubt that Henry prefers me over Boltof?” he asked.
“I suppose ...”
“An order, Celeste, as I wrote to you and Lord Orrick. To strengthen Henry’s position in his government and his family. And I abide by my king’s command to my death. Further, ‘tis a lesson more for Boltof than you, but one day you must come to realize that plotting so for betterment often ends poorly. Had you not asked this favor of me, I would not be wed to Felise now.”