The Defiant Bride

by Leslie Hachtel

  At the mention of their intimacies, Dariana felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She bowed her head so he would not see her embarrassment. He stepped in front of her and lifted her chin. He gazed into her eyes and kissed her lips. “The king has not only forgiven you, he has blessed our union,” he whispered against the softness of her mouth.

  “He asked no punishment? No conditions?” She could not believe it.

  “His only request was to meet you. He does not know of your passion for blood, so do try to control your ire lest he change his mind.”

  She tried to strike him again in the chest, to no effect. “My point is made,” he teased. “Now, go and prepare. Your clothes are full of road dust and some even streaks your nose. I cannot have my king think I have not taught my bride some proper manners.”

  Dariana was so happy, she did not even take exception to this last, but followed him down a stone corridor and up two sets of stairs to a chamber on the third level. William opened the door. Rich, colorful tapestries hung on the walls depicting ancient scenes of love. Against the right wall, a great oak bed surrounded by velvet draperies dominated the room. An intricately carved table and chairs graced one corner of the airy room and soft pillows filled the seats. A huge fireplace assured the occupants they would not suffer the chill of winter. On a small table nearest the bed, two goblets—made of silver and studded with emeralds—stood filled with wine. William explained that emeralds prevailed throughout the castle, as the king favored green.

  Dariana did not even have a chance to react before William slammed the heavy wooden door and swept her into his arms, pressing her body full-length against him. An incredible warmth filled her as their lips melted together, the sizzling passion fair searing her flesh. William’s tongue parted her lips. She clung to him, emotions tumbling over one another. Only one thing was clear. Her body wanted his. Her own tongue sought secrets, spurring the flame ever higher. She arched against him, giving him greater access as he trailed a fiery path from her neck down her shoulders. Suddenly, her gown was gone. His hand reached inside her delicate embroidered chemise to hold her smooth, creamy breast.

  She inhaled sharply as his thumb teased the pink peak to hardness, then moved to the other, his lips following his fingers. Dariana tugged at his doublet, which he fairly tore from his body, then pulled of the linen shirt beneath. She felt frenzied, transported. There was nothing in the world but this man, this moment. She would never get enough.

  He carried her to the welcoming bed, her legs wrapped around his waist. His hard body pressed her into the coverlet. His tongue savored the sweetness of her mouth. His manhood stood proud and he pushed her legs apart and slid into the warm wetness of her. Her hips arched to meet his, drawing him deeper inside. All possible thoughts of patience fled. They moved roughly, hard and fast, their need dictating the fervent driving of man into woman. All too soon, her world erupted into an explosion that left her both exhausted and fulfilled.

  They lay together, the dampness of their skin molding them together and holding them tightly until their breaths slowed to evenness.

  William rose on one elbow and gazed down into Dariana’s lovely face, so soft and yielding now.

  “You truly did miss me.”

  “Perhaps I missed—the pleasure.”

  “Heartless wench! Is that all I am to you? A moment’s pleasure?” He tried to sound offended.

  “A lady must have her dalliances.” She was grinning now, but he narrowed his eyes as if in warning.

  “Do not believe even for a moment that you may ever be touched by another.” His humor was gone.

  “I did but tease. You are hurting me, William.” He realized he’d taken hold of her wrist. He let go, shocked by the force of his jealousy. “Forgive me. The idea of you with another is more than I can bear.”

  “One husband is trouble enough. By the saints, husbands have brought me naught but difficulties so far in my life. Why would I seek more of them? You are quite enough to handle.”

  “Then handle me, wench.” He leered at her, his humor returning.

  “You are but a lewd, lecherous beast. Will there never be sufficient to satisfy you?”

  “You had better pray not.”

  “Then I can only hope our children do not inherit your arrogance.”

  “Children? You plan for the future? Then you have decided I will do as husband after all?”

  “I said no such thing. I merely am worldly wise enough to know the consequences of such behavior as this.” A sweeping motion of her hand indicated their nudity.

  “A son would not be a consequence, my lady, but a guarantee of my future happiness.”

  “Oh, and your happiness is everything to me, my lord,” she replied sarcastically.

  “I am pleased to hear such words from you. As for now, I am thirsty and wish you to slake my need.”

  He reached for her before she could reply and pressed his lips to hers. This time their lovemaking was slower and more gentle, until their need dictated their movements and they rushed together into the white heat that showered them with sparks before releasing them to float back to Earth.

  They dozed for a while, then realized it must be time for supper. William dressed, but Dariana hung back, the sheet covering her breasts.

  “Get up, lazy girl. You must dress. We need food before I service you more.”

  She did not respond to his cajoling, but looked out toward the darkness framed by the large window. “When do I meet with the king?” she asked.

  He cocked his head at her, unsure of what she was actually thinking. She seemed nervous though there was no need to be. “This eve. We dine with his majesty. Why? There is naught to fear, you know.”

  “It is not that. Just a woman’s silliness.”

  “What is it, sweet?”

  “It’s just that I fear I have no proper attire for an audience. And I wish to look my best.”

  “Ah, is that it? Well, I have seen you in peasant rags and loved you all the same.”

  “It is not the same,” she said.

  “I see. So I have not the value of the king in your eyes. Thank you, my lady, for your merit of me.”

  “That is not what I meant by my words.”

  “Pray, are you using the wiles of a greedy woman to gain coin from your husband, so that you might buy a proper gown to be presentable at court?”

  “Yes, I suppose that is indeed the case, since I belong to you now and am at your mercy.”

  “Forget it not, my love, and we shall get on with no arguments.” With that, he smiled and moved over to a great, tall oak armoire beautifully carved with flowers and leaves. He swung open the doors, revealing gowns and petticoats filling it near to bursting.

  Naked, Dariana jumped from the bed, excited as a child at Christmas. William appreciated the view of her backside as she gazed at the rich fabrics. After several moments, she turned to him, smiling with her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered, tears coursing down her cheeks.

  He nodded as her attention returned to the gowns so she could make her selection. Finally, she settled on a velvet gown of deepest green with intricate embroidery around the sleeves and square neckline.

  “Shall I be forced to kill the king as my rival?”

  Dariana gasped. “William, that is treason.”

  “You chose his favored color,” he replied.

  She shook her head. “And so I am ever to make my selections based on pleasing only you and no one else, lest I raise your ire?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you are either a very silly man or one willing to risk his life daily.”

  “Let us say I will fight to keep you and leave it at that.”

  Dariana dressed quickly and William opened the door to step into the corridor. Before Dariana could follow, he reached into his doublet and withdrew a pouch. From it he pulled a necklace of emeralds set among diamonds that reflected the torchlight in the corridor.

  Dariana’s breath caught; she was clearly awed
by the gift. She feathered her fingers over it as he placed it on her neck. As if a thought suddenly struck her, she raised her eyebrows. “It is lovely, William. I thank you. But—how came you to know I would choose the gown of green? What if I had chosen the red?”

  He simply shrugged, laughing inwardly at his cleverness. Of course, he failed to mention the necklace of rubies that still lay wrapped within the pouch.

  Dariana and William made their way down to the great hall, where they were directed to the dais. The king dominated the table, his booming laughter filling the hall. The room was bursting with people, each one siting in a place assigned according to rank. Heads raised to view them as they entered. Dariana was uncomfortable at all the eyes staring at them. Then a murmur broke out. It was obvious opinions were being exchanged regarding the new marriage and the wife the earl had chosen. There were two empty chairs next to his majesty. Dariana blushed with the honor of it.

  She and William approached, then both bowed deeply in front of their king. Henry bade them rise with a flourish of his hand. When he looked into the smiling face of Dariana he nearly dropped the joint of lamb he had been eating. He indicated the empty chairs on his right. When they were seated, he spoke to William. “She is all you said and more.”

  Then he turned his attention to Dariana. “You are magnificent, my dear. You delight the court with your presence. Nay, do not blush. We speak our mind since we are king. If others had our cheek they would say as much to you. Now, eat, for you have journeyed long. We have many questions for after the meal.”

  The tables groaned under the bounty of food. Plates were filled with shanks of mutton, legs of lamb, and trays of eel in butter, whiting, and ling, all covered in delicious sauces. Goose, a delicacy at the home of most, reserved for holiday celebrations, was merely an accent to the lavish display of meats, fish, and other fowl.

  Once the heavy meats had been consumed, they were replaced by plates of vegetables. Soon, sweetmeats were added: pies, cakes, tarts dripping with candied sauces and fragrant with ginger and cinnamon. The wine flowed freely, the goblets refilled by servants who ran tirelessly to and fro to see to the contentment of the king and his company. Partway through the meal, the king spoke to William. “I can see why you would fight the devil himself to possess such as she. But I fear your road will not be an easy one, though probably well worth the trouble.”

  Dariana could not help but overhear. She felt the blush flood her cheeks.

  “Aye, your majesty. Lately I thank God every day that I am a fighting man, for I shall need all that and more to survive this journey.”

  At this Dariana huffed. She turned away from her husband who, undaunted, took hold of her and spun her back to face him. He kissed her soundly on the mouth. Unable to help herself, she kissed him back and it took but a moment for them to remember they were surrounded by an audience. They parted and Dariana’s embarrassment was obvious. Her response to this man amazed her. She could not help but wonder why she was powerless to resist him. She knew she must work harder to maintain her anger at him.

  William and Dariana ate and laughed with the king until they ached. The king held a cherry tart for Dariana to sample, but she begged for mercy. “Please, your majesty, not another bite. I think I shall never eat again.”

  “We have said such as that on many occasions. Of course, we meant it until it was time for the next meal.”

  Dariana smiled at her king. The man was attractive and charming. He seemed so unlike the ogre she had pictured in her mind when she was hiding in the forest. This man was kind. He had humor and found her amusing. She did not doubt, however, that a keen mind was present in the man and that little escaped him. This was confirmed when he spoke to her at the end of the meal.

  “There have been times, my dear, and we are sure they will occur again, when we have had to stand against the many. We sometimes need to declare a stance, whether or not it is unpopular. It is then that we must ask if what we do is truly the right thing or simply a choice that suits our own will.”

  Fear rose in her chest as his words penetrated. He held her gaze and smiled.

  “Truth be told, we cannot blame your choice, for we, too, would balk at being forced against our will. It took great strength and courage to hold with your decision to not falter, to believe that coming forth after the fact might cause irreparable harm to others. Now knowing the facts, we must render the decision that no great damage was done. It is obvious that no evil intent lay behind the choice you made. Yet, we must not allow this action to go unpunished or others might be influenced to defy their king.”

  Dariana had stopped breathing at this point. The king was speaking so softly to her that no one could overhear, but she felt William’s eyes on her. Her spine straightened in response to the king. William took hold of her hand and held tightly. She squeezed his hand and drew it to her breast, dreading the next words.

  The king’s voice rose loudly enough to carry throughout the hall. “So this is how we have decided to accomplish what must be done. We are going to seize all of your father’s holdings and those of your husband, as well. This is in retribution for your treasonous act. A value shall be set and perhaps, if we are sufficiently satisfied with your chastisement, they can be purchased back from us. But, make no mistake, the price shall be high.” He announced this to the company at large. A collective gasp went up from the guests.

  A sob tore itself from Dariana’s chest. Tears filled her eyes. But, before she could speak, the king held up his hand for silence. Then, he leaned in toward her and whispered for her ears alone.

  “However, your father and your husband may both buy all the lands back from the crown for the sum of one gold sovereign each. The price shall remain our secret. If the two earls could loudly complain of the heavy fine, it would be appreciated. That way, all should know that to defy the crown carries with it steep penalties. How much the crown actually requires is no one’s business but ours. So, smile not at me, my girl, but appear chastened.”

  Dariana blew out her breath and relaxed, tears spilling down her cheeks, but this time it was with relief and joy rather than sorrow.

  “Your majesty, there are not words…” She did not smile, but lowered her head to conceal her joy.

  “Are you sufficiently chastised for you actions?” This last was spoken very loudly.

  “Yes, your majesty.”

  “And you shall never defy your king again?” Spoken louder yet.

  “Never, majesty.”

  “Good. Then we have accomplished our purpose. See that your father and your husband pay the required amount quickly, before I change my mind.” This last was said so loudly, so gruffly, that all around them felt humbled by the proclamation. There was a moment of silence. Then the chattering rose, the company speculating among themselves as to the severity of the punishment. They had clearly all witnessed Dariana’s tension and her tears. Dariana came to a realization at that moment: court gossip was both a blessing and a curse.

  After the food had been cleared away and all were satiated with wine, the king played his harp, coaxing such sad, sweet music from the pliant strings that Dariana’s heart had filled to bursting. She breathed in the music, transported. After a while, she turned to William. “It must be so very sad to be the king,” she whispered.

  “Why, love?”

  “He must live within boundaries determined before his birth. He is married to the wife of his dead brother and so many other of the choices in his life have not been his own. Unlike me, though, he could not run and hide. Yet he holds no ill feelings that I could do what he could not.”

  “All that is true. And there are times, I’m sure, when he wonders who he can trust.”

  “That must make him feel very alone. For without trust, there cannot be love.”

  William seemed very serious. “I love you, Dariana. And I long for the day when you will trust me enough to say those same words to me.”

  Before she could respond, the king finished playing an
d jumped up, announcing there would be a hunt on the morrow. All seemed to realize the lateness of the hour as one. The hall was cleared, for the king would rise early. He would be eager to go and no one dared disappoint him.

  As Dariana and William started toward their chamber, the events of the day swirled in her head. So much had occurred. The outcome was far better than she had hoped. She knew this was because her husband had intervened with the king and received his favor. Gratefully, she leaned against him as they walked. Her hand stroked his arm.

  “Thank you, William.”

  He touched her chin and lifted her face to his. The kiss he placed on her mouth was so sweet and full of longing, she threw her arms about his neck. She pulled him to her, returning the passion in equal measure. He swept her into his arms and pushed open the chamber door, placing her on the bed. He closed the door, then stood before her as he removed his boots, followed by the rest of his clothing. Finally, he stood in only a linen shirt whose short lengthbetrayed his hot desire for her.

  Before he could reach her, she put up her hand to stay him. She rose, stood up next to the bed, and very slowly, sensuously, removed her clothing as well. She was playing the wanton for him and Dariana immensely enjoyed watching his struggle. He stepped forward, but her upraised hand stayed him again. When she stood before him naked, she reached out to him. He instantly pulled of his shirt and grabbed her, the impact landing her on the bed with him on top of her.

  Their laughter rang out. They made love slowly, touching, exploring. He kissed her neck, leaving a molten trail to her breasts. Taking one hard nipple in his mouth, he ran his tongue around the rosy tip until she cried for mercy. It amazed her what this man could do to. He did the same to the other nipple and then made his way down to her legs. She closed her eyes tightly with the pleasure of it, begged him to stop, no, not to stop. She tried to lay there pliantly beneath him, inside aching with the force of it all. Was this love or lust? Her feelings bubbled up and she wanted—what? To love him. Suddenly, his tongue sought between her legs and tasted her there, teasing, licking, touching. There was naught but the intense feeling, the demand of her core. Her climax was upon her before she even sensed it. She screamed his name in the pleasure of the moment.