He had guided himself, his manhood so hard, into the soft, welcoming warmth of her. Together they had built the fire until it threatened to consume them. Finally, awash in the release, their bodies joined in the ultimate seeking and giving.
CHAPTER 11
William and Dariana approached the group at the edge of the forest. William was mounted on a huge roan stallion; she was seated on Moonshadow. The day had dawned brilliantly, the sky blue, the breeze warm, the sun coloring everything with vivid, intense hues. It was a rare morning, one to be appreciated.
Dariana was clearly awed by the people, the colors, the excitement, the food laid out on trestle tables. William had to admit the king’s table was a feast beyond compare.
“Amazing,” Dariana breathed.
“He is the king. He could certainly not be outdone.”
“And who would dare try?” Dariana’s good humor matched his on this lovely morning. Last night had been beyond memorable in so many ways. After the meal, Dariana and William celebrated their levy from the king by making love not once, not twice, but thrice. He wondered that she must be tired, but the excitement seemed to be sweeping away the cobwebs.
William reached over, squeezing her hand. Right then, the king appeared, resplendent in hunter green, slashed to show cloth of gold beneath. The company turned in unison to applaud their monarch. Henry waved his hand as if to dismiss the praises, although he was clearly enjoying them.
“I fear I am underdressed. Although I do favor my new riding habit,” Dariana said.
“Not underdressed, love, since even less would suit me more.” He leered at her.
“You are a wastrel, a good-for-naught. Have you no dragons to slay, wars to fight?”
“I am hoping our war is at an end.”
“Hmph. I might be willing to call a truce. I might even try and forget you forced me into marriage.”
“A truce is something I profoundly wish for. I cannot say I will ever regret marrying you, but I am willing to agree that my methods were perhaps not the best.”
His words were heartfelt and Dariana seemed moved by this attempt at an apology. He hoped she had tired of anger and would be forced to admit to herself that she cared for him. Maybe she could put aside her pride enough to actually take him into her heart. The thought made him smile.
“Shall we partake of the king’s hospitality?”
“Yes, indeed we should. I am famished.”
William raised a golden eyebrow at her. “Truly? I thought you said you would never eat again after your supper last eve.”
“As the king said, that was before it was time to eat again,” Dariana giggled, dismounting.
When the huntsman appeared, the company mounted their horses. The hounds were loosed into the woods, barking with excitement, the scent of prey in their nostrils.
William, Dariana beside him, rode with the group for a while, enjoying the smell of the earth and the scent of the trees around them.
“I thought this was to be a bracing ride.” She sounded disappointed.
“I shall see to your excitement, my lady.” William winked at her. With that, he directed his horse in front of Moonshadow, who was forced to move left in a direction that separated them from the group.
Dariana followed him to a small clearing. In the center was a grotto, a small pond formed from stone surrounded by lush foliage. “What of the hunt?”
“Will you be bereft if you do not run down a fox?”
“Perhaps you are hoping I seek another kind of animal?” Her attempt at a leer made him laugh.
The two dismounted and the horses moved to the water to drink lustily.
Then William was behind her, wrapping his arms about her chest. He felt Dariana take a deep breath. He reveled in the feel of her against his chest. She reached back and pulled his head closer. He was thrilled when she returned his passion. If naught else, he could move her body. If only he could be sure her heart followed.
He laid her in the fragrant grass, his hands working to remove her gown, her petticoats, and her soft chemise. She appeared as a goddess to him, surrounded by the rich, green grass, her hair spread like a coverlet of deepest, blackest velvet. He just stared at her for a moment, fearful the vision would take flight and he would be left alone in this perfect morning light staring into a void. Happily, she did not fade into the wood, but only lay there looking into his eyes, her wanting clear in the depths. He stroked her creamy silken skin, then sought her lips, her full breasts, her narrow waist, exploring with his fingertips. Suddenly, he could bear no more as the lust to possess this wood nymph enveloped him. He tore his clothes from his body. Her rhythms matched his, her need clearly as great.
He felt the waves of release as they tore through her. She cried out and dug her nails into the thick, hard muscles of his back. He shuddered deep inside her and then he relaxed, satiated. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held tightly, as if she desired to never be parted from him, exulting in the weight of him, the dampness of his skin against hers. His cheek was against hers and he tasted the salty tears as they coursed down her cheeks.
“Have I hurt you, love?”
“Nay. It is I who has nearly hurt us both.” Her voice was very soft.
“I understand you not, love.”
“I love you, William. I realize that now. My pride be damned. It matters not how our union came to be. I know you love me, too.”
He could not believe his ears. “You have spoken the words I have waited to hear. I feared you would never forgive me. It seems you have. That is everything that matters.” He held her; the war ended.
After a time, William decided that good manners dictated they return to the company. He helped Dariana, then gathered his own clothes. He noticed the horses had gone some distance away to seek sweet grass.
“Thunder should be punished for wandering so far,” William stated, disgusted with his stallion. “He has learned not to leave my sight.”
“I am certain Moonshadow told him we wanted privacy.” She grinned.
“You attribute much to that beastie of yours.”
“Oh, William, he is so much more than just a horse. He has been my friend and companion. Horses have more brains than you think.”
“Sometimes you are a romantic wench, your head given to flights of fancy and fairy tales.”
“Someday you will eat your words.”
The horses whinnied in warning. Every sinew in his body was alert. Another sound permeated the air. One of William’s hands was poised on his dagger, the other ready with his drawn sword. He moved in front of Dariana, pressing her back against a large oak.
“What—” William barely heard her as a flash of blackness flew by them. William sidestepped the attack. The huge, enraged boar turned back, its hot breath wheezing heavily through wide nostrils, the tiny black eyes points of hate.
It came at them again, but this time it was faster. William pushed Dariana out of the line of attack. She fell as he was tossed to the side. He leaped to his feet, but the terrifying beast was now threatening her, sensing his advantage with the more helpless one.
Before it could lunge, William attacked with his dagger, stabbing once, twice, thrice, blood spurting like a geyser from the wound.
The wild boar regrouped. It thundered in for another assault, the fury of it making it seem otherworldly, a demon come to earth to ravage and kill.
Head down, it raced at William, its sworn enemy now. The monster’s lethal tusks caught his clothing. He was flung into the air. Dariana’s scream made every hair on William’s head stand on end. Or maybe it was the fact that he was hurtling through space that did it. He crashed to the ground, gritting his teeth against the pain in his arm. He was pure instinct, warrior. He must kill or be killed. It was not a conscious thought; it was reaction. He recovered just as the thing spun yet again. He shot to his feet, stepped to the right, and flung himself on the beast’s back as it passed.
His dagger found its mark in the monster’s sp
ine, causing the animal to stagger. William was cast of as the thing fell to its knees. A split second later, it collapsed in a crash to the ground, panting in its death throes.
A weeping Dariana ran to him. Assured of her safety, he tried not to move, assessing the damage to his body. His arm felt as if it had been ripped from the socket, but he otherwise felt intact. Every part of his body ached.
Suddenly blind with rage and grief, Dariana grabbed the dagger from his limp hand. He opened his eyes in time to see her lunge at the beast, stabbing, gouging. “Demon, devil from hell, die, suffer for what you have done to my love.” One last slash and it lay still. He smiled when she turned back to him. He had lifted on one elbow and watched her display, almost amused.
“You are not dead?” This was said with undisguised relief.
“Nay. Not yet.”
She tore strips of cloth from her petticoat, ran to the water and soaked some of the material in the cool stream, then washed the wounds and cleaned the blood away. After that, she wrapped his arm and tied the ends of the cloth together. He bore this silently, the pain manageable. She was caring for him, yet again. He basked in it.
Suddenly, he burst out laughing. Dariana was puzzled by this. “Are you delirious, my lord?”
“Aye, lady. Delirious with gratitude that I never bore the full force of your anger, as did that poor beast.” He indicated the lifeless boar.
Dariana was clearly embarrassed that he had witnessed her fury at the thing that had attacked them. “I lost my wits for a moment.” She pouted. “It angered me that he should hurt you.”
“So I noticed. Pray, let me never anger you so.” He smiled up into her red-cheeked face. He tried to rise, but could not contain a groan as the pain in his arm shot a million bolts of fire through his body. “I have suffered worse wounds, but never for a better cause. Saving a damsel in distress is what a knight lives to do.”
Dariana gasped. “You are badly hurt. Your arm is still bleeding. The flesh is torn. Pray, let me get help.”
“I am fine, my lady. A little damaged, true, but nothing I cannot abide. I am a knight, after all.”
“Then come, my brave knight, and see to mounting your horse. You would not appear quite so gallant should you have to be flung across his saddle and carried home.” With that, she turned and went to gather the horses.
“Aye, mounting is my favorite pastime,” he called to her back.
She returned a few moments later with the horses, shaking her head at him. “Can you think of naught else but coupling, even now?”
“I have other thoughts. I simply cannot seem to recall them.”
Dariana helped him mount Thunder. He was uncomfortable, but it was nothing compared to his joy. His wife had just found love in her heart and he was not about to die today. They had met because he was wounded. He hoped it would not continue to be the pattern of their lives.
They regained the group slowly, Dariana inquiring often as to his pain. William assured her it was not as serious as she feared and he would have only a small scar as a reminder. He also declared he would tell all at court she had slain the monster and they should recover it, roast it, and serve it at a feast in her honor.
“’Tis untrue, William. I did not kill the thing. You did that.”
“No, love, I but injured it. ‘Twas you who struck the killing blow.”
“Truly? Then, are you not dishonored to be saved by a woman?”
“Dishonored? Nay! I shall even change my horse’s name to Darius to honor your courage.”
“Hah! If you change his name it would be because you have a wee brain and cannot remember too many names at one time.”
“And I believe you to be a cruel and heartless chit who is ungrateful for the sacrifices of her loving knight.”
“And I believe I love you.”
“You see how cruel you are? You arrange it so I have no response.”
“You could say you love me as well.”
“I do. And I will say it until the stars disappear forever from the heavens and the sun shines no more and—”
“You are delirious, my lord. But stay so.”
Dariana awoke to the sun streaming into the chamber from the large bay window. Birds sang from their hearts to welcome the day. A cool breeze blew through the casement and carried voices from the courtyard. The castle was awakening to a day full of sweet promise. She looked over at her sleeping husband and her face lit with inner warmth.
She eased the covers back to expose his bandaged arm. She checked the healing and was relieved to see the flesh was pink—closing nicely. There would be a scar, but a knight regarded that as a badge of honor. Silly knights and their arrogance.
She remembered the day before. After the creature had so viciously attacked them, they had returned to the edge of the forest to rejoin the hunting party. As William’s wound was tended, he embroidered the story of the boar with relish, making Dariana appear as Diana, the Greek goddess of the hunt. To hear William tell it, Dariana had slain the beast in its tracks. He had been cut as an afterthought by the creature in its last desperate struggles against death. Dariana knew she had blushed furiously at this embellishment of the truth, but her protests were regarded merely as false modesty from the woman who was already being recounted as a legend.
The king had returned to the group a few moments later, followed by several of his men carrying a huge deer. The king, proud of his kill, patiently listened to William recount the tale of the boar. All the knights and their ladies present held their breaths, fearing that the king, known for his competitive nature, would be angered and offended. A mere woman had made a greater kill in the hunt. But after several moments of strained silence, the king threw back his head and bellowed with laughter. Then, shaking his head in admiration, he ordered a party back to retrieve the fallen beast. He ordered it cooked along with his deer for the feast.
Dariana hissed to William that he should correct his lie. He had merely nuzzled her neck. “My lady, is it not true you attacked the thing and killed it?” he had asked with innocence in his tone.
“After you had crippled it and it lay dying.”
“That is not my memory of the event. Perhaps the shock of battle has affected your recollections.”
“There is no arguing with you.” She turned up her nose in mock disgust.
He smiled benignly. “See you remember that in future.”
The boar retrieved and the feast prepared, the king toasted the bravest lady in his realm. The story was set now. It would only grow larger as time passed, which is the way of stories as they are passed along.
Now Dariana smiled at William lying beside her. His eyes opened. He turned to kiss her full on the mouth, then wrapped her in his strong arms. They held each other for a while, content, before the contact of their entwined limbs fired the passion that was inevitable. His hands were everywhere, his lips following their lead. She thrilled as her fingers stroked the smooth strength of him, the utter manliness of sinew and muscle.
He entered her slowly, obviously teasing her. Her hips arched to increase his ardor, but it did not seem to help. With what she imagined was agonizing control, he slid in and out, now deeply inside her, now barely touching, until she begged for release.
Without warning, he plunged inside her, his need clearly built to a fever pitch, taking her to previously unknown heights until the room exploded in white light and stars and took her breath with it.
They lay together, bound by their love, their damp skin melding together until a knock at the chamber door roused them.
“What is it?” William called, making it clear to whoever dared that he was disturbed by the intrusion.
“All is ready, my lord,” returned Brian, his voice muted by the heavy door.
“Thank you, Brian,” William said, dismissing the lad.
Dariana turned to William. She was excited, convinced some happy new adventure awaited. “Ready, William? Ready for what?”
“A surprise, my love.�
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“Tell me!”
“Say please, Dariana.”
She pouted at him. “Please.”
“You do not sound sincere.” He smiled at her.
“Please again, then.” She grinned, showing him her white teeth in a mock threat.
“No. Get dressed, wench, or you shall never know what lies in store.” William was enjoying this immensely.
“Tell me, please, William. I am sincere in my plea.” She angled her head and bated her eyelashes at him. She hoped he could not resist her charms. He hesitated a moment, opened his mouth, but shut it again.
“Get dressed. Then perhaps then you shall know.”
“You are cruel,” she complained.
“True, but effective.” He seemed a bit triumphant for her taste.
“Effective, my lord? Toy with me and you will know you were in a battle.”
“Is that what you call that last? A battle? Then, indeed, I came out on top.”
She felt her face redden with frustration. She tried to lunge at him, but he swept her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. Then he shook his head and grinned at her. “Clothe yourself, hellion. You will like what awaits.” He put her back on her feet, swatting her on the bottom.
Anxious for her surprise, Dariana was dressed in moments. She stood tapping a foot as William put on each article of his clothing with great care. After several minutes, Dariana was ready to shriek at him. Finally, he was ready. He took her hand, leading her downstairs. He grabbed some bread and cheese from a table in the main hall as he continued out into the courtyard.
Moonshadow and Darius pranced in their impatience to be of. Three knights with William’s two squires waited, mounted and ready to escort their lord and his lady. As they trotted into the countryside, Dariana marveled at the beauty of this early May morn. Had the grass always been so green, stretched like a velvet carpet as far as the eye could see? Had the air been so sweetly scented yesterday or last year? She breathed deeply of it, a new quiet in her soul. They rode in companionable silence for a while, their guard a discreet distance behind, all enjoying the day, thinking private thoughts.
The Defiant Bride Page 11