by Jackie Ivie
“If I no longer appeal to you. Those were your exact words, weren’t they?”
“I...don’t remember. I—”
His voice stopped as Bessie slid even closer, nearly touching. Devon stumbled backward, and fell. He definitely didn’t seem to be as tired as James claimed to be. Devon leapt to his feet the moment he landed. It didn’t help his position. Bess had followed where he’d backed against a wall. His eyes were very wide. Stunned-looking.
“Are you afraid to touch me?”
“My...wife doesn’t want babes. She doesn’t want anything to do with me...in that matter.”
“Who cares about her?”
“It will mean...loss of power.”
“Power?”
Bessie whispered it. She was having a hard time hearing. There was a distinct throbbing sound in both ears. Heavy. Loud. Rapid.
“You...and I—uh...”
She reached up and touched his throat. His voice halted. This time, she not only heard and saw him gulp. She felt it. His throat moved against her fingertips. And then a tremor scored down his frame, surprising, and mystifying, and encouraging.
“Perhaps you should wear more.” She settled her thighs against his lower limbs. And she could swear she felt the contact!
“Me?”
His voice was an octave higher than normal. That might be due to how Bessie ran her gaze from where she touched to meet his. His eyelashes lowered, making his eyes resemble emerald-hued fire. She lurched against him. She had to look back down.
“Laces come apart...so easily.”
She unfastened his ties at her eye-level as she spoke. He groaned. She heard it, experienced the whisper of breath from it, and felt it vibrate thought the chest where she’d rested a palm.
“I cannot do this! I can’t!”
“Why is that, do you think?”
She slid each thin leather lace from its hole, catching a breath with each one. And oddly...they seemed to match his.
“The loss is too great. She will have to relinquish everything. Just like her guardian. A man means—. It—. I mean, he—.”
“Yes?”
Bessie had the laces freed. She didn’t look up to see his reaction. She pulled the last cord out and tossed it over her head in the general direction of Black-Heart.
“Babes!”
Another groan followed the word. Breath brushed her knuckles where they were pressed against his chest. She had to move them. So, she put her fingers into the opening she’d created and slid them downward, separating the halves as she went. Oh my. He was bare beneath the leather. Extremely hard. Hot. And moist. She licked her lips.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“There will be babes. Lots. I cannot help it.”
“Do you give them to all your women?”
She held onto his opened vest and leaned backwards to look up at him. She kept her legs right where they were.
“I’ve no bastards, if that’s what you ask.”
“But you have other women?”
“No.”
“Does that mean...you’ll not take what I offer tonight? No matter what I do?”
Devon clenched his jaw so tightly, Bessie feared for his teeth. Cords stood out from his neck. She watched them pulsate while she silently counted. She got to nine before he answered.
“What game is this?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Why would it be a game?”
“That’s all you do...and you never explain the rules first.”
“Oh. You want rules, do you?”
Bessie pushed his jerkin open. He was flushed. Dark-toned. Immense. She placed her right hand flat against his chest, and traced a path down his belly with her left hand. She reached the edge of his chausses and ran a finger along the waistband of them.
“I can’t do this! I have to honor her! I have to keep myself—”
“How about a kiss? That’s all. Unless you ask for more,” Bessie replied.
“Please...don’t do this. Please?”
Bessie leaned forward and touched her lips to the skin right beside her palm. This time, his groan filled the air about them. Bessie barely heard it. She was enjoying how the skin had vibrated against her lips. She touched her tongue to him next, and ran a line from the middle of his chest down to where her other hand still held to his waist. The entire way, his skin rose in goose bumps that tickled her tongue.
She’d bent as she moved, so that when she’d reached his belly, she had both arms wrapped tightly about him and stood at his side. She hadn’t planned the position. She hadn’t planned anything. She held to him because otherwise she’d collapse. Everything was shaking. Her legs felt the strength of gruel. Her belly was in knots. Her breasts were throbbing. This was beyond imagining. She didn’t know what she was doing. Thinking. Expecting. She was having difficulty just breathing.
And Devon was worse.
Bessie rose slowly, forcing her legs to support the move. And then she looked up. Devon wasn’t watching anything. He had his face scrunched into an agonized expression, and was howling at the same time. He wasn’t touching her. He had both hands at his sides, smashed into the wall behind him, clenched into such tight fists, the knuckles were white. He was shuddering so badly, she could hear the soft impact each time he touched the wooden wall at his back.
“You lied, didn’t you?”
“I...yes! I lied. Wait? No...”
The last word was drawn out. It resembled a howl. Bessie had never heard anything like it. Black-Heart must have had the same impression, for he snorted and pawed at the ground.
“I was not just a passing fancy to you. Admit it.”
“I...can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Everything will fall apart.”
“Why? You’re not doing anything. You’re not even touching me. If she asks, I’ll tell her so.”
Bessie shoved the jerkin onto his shoulders, freeing his chest, and hampering his movement at the same time. He was breathing excessively hard. And there was the oddest lump at his groin. It pressed into her belly. Through her skirts. In a continuous series of movements. She gasped when she saw it, and her gaze flew back to his. Devon had untwisted his face and was regarding her with narrowed eyes.
“Are you...finished?” he asked.
“Why? Don’t you like it?”
“I would say...’tis a bit obvious.”
Bessie frowned. That didn’t make any sense. Unless it was the hard part of him that kept thumping into her waist. She tentatively moved a hand toward it. He jerked backward as if burned, leaving her hand hovering in mid-air.
“Don’t you dare.”
The words were deep. Frightening. They lingered in the air. Black-Heart pawed at the ground behind them again. Bessie moved to his belly instead, and rubbed along lumps beneath his skin that rippled and bunched beneath her fingers. She reached one of his nipples. They were small. Tight. She flicked a fingernail across it, watched him shudder, while her body matched. And then she looked up at him again.
“Someone has to dare. You won’t. You’re too afraid.”
“I will not dishonor her. Damn you for asking it.”
“But, you don’t touch her, either. Isn’t that what you said?”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t touch her. You can’t touch me. I don’t appeal to you anymore—”
“You’re right! You do. You appeal to me. You do. I forfeit. Oh. Hell.”
“What is it?”
“I’m losing...damn me.”
“You are going to touch me?”
“No! You little fool! I can’t! How I want to, but I...just...can’t!”
“But why?”
“If I touch you, we’re lost. I won’t be able to control myself. I won’t.”
“And you’ll give me a babe? Is that it?”
“Yes! No! Not you!”
“It wouldn’t matter if you gave me one, then?”
“Show some compassion, for pity’s sake.”
“Is this...revenge? Is that it?”
“I don’t want revenge.”
“What do you wish, then?”
“Words.”
“What words?”
“Would you...?” Bessie took a breath, and asked it. “Choose me over her?”
His reply was flung at her. It was a bellow that sounded like he was in pain. Before she lost her nerve, Bessie lowered her bodice and slammed her breasts to him. Heat seared. It was followed by a flash of something that arced through her and then disappeared. She slid herself across his belly and back again, chasing the sensation.
“Please stop. Please?”
He sounded like he was sobbing. And it stopped her. She pulled back from him. She lifted her bodice back into place with fingers that didn’t feel like they belonged to her. She didn’t know what was wrong. Everything had backfired. He didn’t look like he’d enjoyed any of this. She was defeated. And she knew it.
“Very well, my lord. You win.”
Bessie stepped back. Devon’s groin area was distorted beyond all proportion. And as she watched, it actually moved! Bessie gasped and moved back another step. One more. She put both hands over her mouth and nose. She didn’t dare make a sound. He was watching her with an emotion so vivid, she felt it.
“Win?” he asked. “There is no winning. I’m leaving now. You going to stop me?”
She shook her head. Devon rushed past her. Bessie watched as he jumped over the gate, clumsily, one hand at his front, protecting it.
“Where are you going?”
It probably looked like she was chasing him to the gate. Black-Heart joined her and stuck his head over the top rung.
“To the nearest full rain barrel. You might wish to do the same.”
“Whatever for?”
He didn’t answer. He simply lumbered out of view. Bessie stood beside Black-Heart and they both watched him go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Oh Roberta...what’s wrong with me? Why can’t I sleep?”
“You need to stop pacing if you wish to do that.”
“I am not pacing.” Bessie stopped in the center of her room, and then turned about again. “Very well. You are right. But I cannot sit still. I feel like a thousand needles are pressing against me.”
“Dear me. I’d best send for Augusta. You may have caught something.”
“No. Wait. It’s not painful. Definitely not that. It’s more...ah! I cannot explain! It’s more a tingling sensation...and it’s everywhere! If feels like I’ve been out in a winter storm too long, and then sat too near a fire. No. That’s not it. It’s more like I’ve imbibed too much ale and then listened to a beautiful bit of music. Or a minstrel’s opining. Or a poet’s love-filled words. No. That isn’t even right.” Bessie’s sigh was so strong, it lifted the hairs off of her forehead. “Thoughts of Devon pester me without end. I swear I can even feel him. Everywhere. I’ve been waking in the midst of the night and before I get a candle lit, all sorts of things happen.”
“Like what?”
“I can sense him! I do. I’m afraid when I get a light I’ll actually see him, but he’s never there. And since my failure last night, it’s gotten worse!”
“It didn’t sound like such a failure to me.” Roberta started picking at her sewing hoop again, acting as if they discussed nothing of import.
“Well, it was. Why else would he need a rain barrel?”
“For a cooling off. Sounds like your plan succeeded quite well.”
“Then, where has he been all day? Why haven’t I caught the smallest glimpse of him? He was gone before daybreak, and hasn’t returned yet that I know of.”
“Perhaps he’s back. Do you wish me to check for you?”
“No!”
Bess made as if to race to the connecting door. She should have known Roberta was teasing. From her reclining position on the settee, she didn’t look like she was going anywhere.
“You really wish to know where your husband is?” the maid asked her hoop.
“Yes.”
“Very well. I will tell you. The man will be anywhere but near you. I’d guess he’s terrified of running across you.”
“Terrified? Are you certain?”
“I was wed, Bessie. Eight years before my Maurice passed on and I entered your service. Trust me. Your husband is at his wit’s end. He doesn’t dare be near you.”
“But...why?”
“Perhaps...you’d best sit down. I have a few things that need saying. Serious things.”
“You do?”
The maid put her sewing aside and regarded Bessie. She looked serious. And she looked flushed. Embarrassed.
“I do. But I am a bit...hesitant. What I am about to tell you is...not my place. It would have been your mother’s duty, if she hadn’t passed on so soon after your birth. After that, it should have been any of your previous husband’s, if they hadn’t the same trouble. And it definitely should have been Lord Hildebrand’s, but I’ll hold my tongue on that for the moment. So. As I said, I am overstepping my place. I hope you forgive my blunt tongue, but I’ve finished going all about the bush. Someone needs to explain things to you. I cannot sit idly by and watch this game of yours any longer.”
Bessie dropped onto the dressing room stool. It made a distinct clatter.
“This is beyond the talk we had when you had your first woman-time. Remember that? Well. Time has a way of passing. How was I to know that your guardian would up and wed you off again? Without warning? And this time, to such a young, handsome fellow, it shouldn’t even come up that I need to explain anything. That man should have taken what belongs to him long before this.”
“What belongs to him?” Bessie asked.
“Your innocence.”
“Are we talking about...the consummation?”
“That...and more.” The maid’s blush was so severe, her cheeks looked crimson and she wouldn’t meet Bessie’s eyes. “You know so little. It’s hardly possible at your age and experience, but there it is. And this is difficult for me, Bessie. Maybe if one of my babes had survived infancy, I’d have some experience.”
“I didn’t know...you’d had babes.”
“Four of them. All buried within their first year. And then my Maurice passed on, and I was left to enter service. It’s ancient history now, love. Your father was a sea captain. He couldn’t stay ashore and watch a motherless babe. That’s what brought me to you. I’ve sheltered you, watched you grow up, and now it’s befallen me to explain things between a man and woman. So. Where to start? You see—uh. There is—. A man has a part—. And it grows...oh. Heavens. We never even let you see a stallion mount a mare in the stables. You’ve never had a pet. Perhaps I should send for Augusta. She’s had experience at this.”
“I am not that naive, Roberta.”
“Truly?”
“I know Devon has...trouble at times.”
“Trouble?”
“He has this growth. It’s big. And hard. And it moves!”
“Oh. Yes.” The maid put a hand over her mouth. And she was even redder than before. “That would be the male’s part of this...consummation thing. That is his...yes. Well. That is the part he is going to put inside you. In basically, the same area.”
Bessie’s eyes went huge. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
“Oh, no. It’s actually quite nice. Or, I should say, it’s ever so pleasant once the first time is accomplished. Breaking through that makes the first time a bit...um. It can be unpleasant. But it may not be. Depending on the man. And the circumstances. And the size of his...oh. This is terribly difficult.”
“Is it painful for him, too?”
“Heavens no. I believe men find it perfectly enjoyable every time.”
“Oh. That’s not fair.”
Roberta giggled and looked even more embarrassed. “You can say that of ev
erything in life, love. It isn’t fair. Men are larger. Stronger. Always have been. They are also lusty. This affliction you spoke of? The needle-thing?”
Bessie nodded.
“If you suffer that sort of thing, what of him?”
“He suffers like that?”
“His is probably worse. Much worse. But the cure for what ails both you is on the other side of that door. There isn’t another one, I’m afraid.”
“I can’t try and seduce him again. I made a muck-up of it before.”
“That’s because you were the village wench, and he’s staying true to his wife.”
“Who is he going to think is in his room if he sees me now? The queen?”
“You’ll just have to talk fast. And I’ve got a little something that might help. It’s a nightgown I’ve been working on.” Roberta bent over the far side of the settee, fussed about in her sewing basket, and then lifted out a bit of fabric too sheer for even a veil.
“That is a nightgown?” Bessie asked as Roberta brought it to her. It looked flimsy enough to tear with any type of pressure.
“It will be perfect.”
“Oh, Roberta, as much as I want to. I just can’t. Not yet. You don’t understand. He didn’t mention love last night. Not once.”
“Did you put the thought in his head? Maybe he needed a hint.”
“It...slipped my mind.”
“So, why wouldn’t he touch you?”
“It was something about babes, and that he gives lots of them.”
“The man’s onto something there. Look about you.”
“But, I want one. I do.”
“Go to him. Tell him. Don’t tell me.”
“He won’t touch me as Lady Hilde, either. He thinks I don’t want babes, but I do.”
“Who would tell him such nonsense?”
“I don’t know. He thinks I’ll lose power if I have babes. I don’t have any power.”
“Why didn’t you say that, too?”
“Because I wasn’t listening very well. I wasn’t thinking, either.”
“You haven’t been thinking properly since you wed. Why, if you only knew...you’d cease this foolishness, and claim that man before another woman does.”
“I am going to claim him. Just on my own terms. Can’t you give me that?”