Love’s Sweet Sting

by Markland, Anna

  “I’ll let Edwin explain.”

  She hadn’t noticed Aidan’s brother standing nearby. He came to the side of her pallet. “Tell her,” Aidan said.

  “It was my uncle, Baudoin de Montbryce, with his sons and a party of their knights...from Ellesmere.”

  This did not make sense. “In the Marches?”

  Aidan chuckled. “Aye. They made it here in three days.”

  Nolana looked at both brothers. Edwin seemed pleased with himself. “I dinna understand. How did they ken ye needed them?”

  Edwin grinned. “I sent a bird to Shelfhoc with word to ride to Ellesmere for help.”

  Aidan raked his good hand through his hair. “It was so bloody simple and obvious, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it. We use pigeons regularly to send messages to Shelfhoc.”

  Edwin laughed and punched Aidan’s good shoulder. “You were preoccupied with other things.” He looked pointedly at Nolana, winked and walked away.

  Aidan shook his head. “Who would have believed my timid brother Edwin would be the one to save us?”

  “But ye’re hurt, Aidan.”

  He shrugged. “Baudoin’s arrival took me by surprise. I let my guard down for a moment and Maknab managed to slash my shoulder. Apparently, your maniacal attack distracted him sufficiently that Edwin felled him with a dagger through the heart.”

  She smiled. “Maniacal? Are ye saying I’m a mad woman?”

  He kissed her. “Mad for me, I hope.”

  She blushed and nodded.

  “This arm is something of an impediment, otherwise I would put both arms around you and ask you to be my wife, Nolana Kyncade.”

  She rose and knelt on the pallet so they were eye to eye, reached out and put both arms around him. “I have two good arms, and I say aye to yer proposal, Sir Aidan Branton FitzRam.”

  He smiled and seemed about to kiss her, but then...“Are you sure you want to live in England, Nolana? You miss your homeland.”

  She sighed. “I love the Fells, but I wouldna be happy there without ye. And Maknab razed my father’s tower-house.”

  He kissed her deeply, holding her firmly round the waist with his one good hand. They clung together for a long while until they became aware of several curious figures watching them. “Come, Baudoin wants to meet you," he said, "but don’t be too friendly with my handsome cousins.”

  As they walked to the courtyard, Aidan’s hand resting possessively on the small of her back, Nolana savored a contentment she had not experienced since childhood. She felt safe at last, as though she were back in her father’s care. This strong, gentle man would be true to his word.

  She confided to Aidan she had never met an earl before. He reassured her. “Baudoin isn’t haughty like some Norman earls. He and my father weren’t just half brothers, they were friends.”

  When she caught sight of his cousins, her eyes widened. Gallien and Etienne de Montbryce were indeed handsome young men. Tall, broad shouldered and well muscled, they were replicas of their father, Baudoin, the Earl of Ellesmere, who stood beside them. Though the Norman had lived half a century he was still an attractive man. His greying hair had probably once been as inky black as his sons’.

  She made to curtsey when Aidan introduced her, but Baudoin took her hand and kissed it, as did his sons. They exchanged polite pleasantries and discovered Gallien and Nolana had been born in the same year. Both were nineteen, Etienne two years younger.

  * * *

  Aidan shook his uncle’s hand. “I can’t possibly express my relief at your presence here. You and your men made the decisive difference in this battle. Thank you.”

  Baudoin put a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t hesitate once we received Edwin’s message. Your father was a great man, Aidan. You know he saved my life in Florence. You are family and Montbryces stand with family. You know I was immensely saddened by your parents’ drowning. I thank the saints every day neither of my sons was aboard the fated White Ship. We are one of the few Anglo-Norman families that did not lose a son or daughter. It doesn’t bode well for the future of this country or for Normandie. You heard there was only one survivor?”

  Aidan nodded. “Aye, a butcher from Rouen, who’d gone aboard to collect a debt. According to him, Prince William survived and was hauled into a smaller boat, but he ordered it turned around when he heard his half sister’s pleas for help.”

  Baudoin shook his head. “Oui, then so many scrambled onto the rescue boat that it too sank. William’s cousin, Stephen, must be offering many prayers of thanks that he stepped off the boat just before it sailed.”

  Edwin joined them. “Rather like what happened to us. We changed places with our parents, because of mother’s illness. Aidan’s suggestion saved us.”

  Aidan shrugged, relieved to finally accept that painful truth without feeling guilt. “Edwin, you’re the one who saved us this time. Thank you. You have proven yourself a capable warrior. I cede to you Shelfhoc Hall to oversee as yours. I cannot adequately take care of both halls and the Sussex estates.”

  Edwin clasped his hand and the brothers embraced. “Thank you, Aidan, I love Shelfhoc Hall.”

  Baudoin slapped Edwin on the back. “Good. You’ll be close to us in the Marches, nephew. Now, where’s my wilful niece?”

  Aidan chuckled. “Believe it or not, Ragna has taken charge of running the household.”

  Nolana gasped. “I was supposed to be helping her.” She hastened away.

  The men watched her go.

  Gallien rubbed his chin. “If I was a few years older, Cousin Aidan, you’d have a fight on your hands for Nolana. She’s beautiful.”

  Aidan wagged a finger at his cousin. “If you so much as look at her with too much interest, I’ll have your hide. She is mine.”

  Baudoin laughed. “She is lovely, Aidan. I’m anxious to hear her story, and what you intend with her. Her brogue reminds me of your father. Is she a Scot?”

  “Aye, from the Highlands. My intention is honorable, uncle. She is to be my wife.”

  Baudoin stretched his arms over Edwin and Aidan’s shoulders. “Good. It hasn’t been easy for your family, but this is the way your parents would have wanted it. If you had drowned, they would have been devastated. But, we are still alive, and I for one am hungry. I smell an enticing aroma coming from the kitchens. I see my sons have already followed their noses. There’ll be no food left if we don’t go quickly.”

  A Little Death

  Baudoin de Montbryce and Caedmon FitzRam were half brothers, but the facial resemblance was so striking most people believed they were full brothers. Aidan therefore found it appropriate his uncle was still at Kirkthwaite when he married Nolana. His presence was a comfort.

  Aidan’s shoulder wound was healing well and Ragna had allowed the bandages to be removed. She embraced the task of preparing for the wedding with great glee. In her usual whirlwind manner, she created a flurry of activity in every corner of the manor house. Cook was schooled in the exact dishes to be served. Seamstresses from the village were employed to create new gowns, and she threatened them with dire consequences if her instructions were not followed. Servants were tasked with sweeping and cleaning the manor and woe betide anyone who appeared at the celebration with a tunic that was anything but pristine. All the while she oversaw the care of the wounded.

  She soon had Gallien and Etienne at her beck and call, which amused their father greatly. He told Aidan, “They’re not used to being bullied by a female. They have two sisters, of course, but Fleurie and Isabelle are timid. Ragna’s got these two wrapped around her little finger.”

  Aidan smiled. “That’s Ragna, our Wild Viking Princess. She certainly is the one who most exhibits our Danish ancestry. Can’t you envision her at the prow of a longboat? Mayhap she should have the ceremonial dagger, rather than Blythe.”

  Edwin was delighted to be Aidan’s second. In short order, he had the men-at-arms cleaning their uniforms and weapons. He arranged for the village priest from Bolton to conduc
t the ceremony, and somehow managed to fill the small church with fresh flowers. He selected which of Aidan’s doublets, leggings and boots he judged suitable for the rites. He aided Leofric with the burial of the dead.

  It amused and comforted Aidan. Caedmon and Agneta would be proud of all their offspring. Their deaths had brought their children closer.

  He shared his thoughts with Nolana on the eve of their wedding. They had fled Ragna’s frenzied activities and found the gallery deserted. She stood in front of the hearty fire, rubbing her arms. He came up behind her and pulled her back against him, his arms crossed under her breasts. The warm weight felt wonderful. He had been determined not to become too aroused in anticipation of the morrow, but it was useless. He was sure she could feel his hard need pressed against her bottom. “Let me warm you.”

  She leaned her head back against his good shoulder. “I’m nay cold, only nervous.”

  He kissed her neck, delighted to feel her tremble. He was sure his betrothed was a passionate woman. She had endured a terrible agony in her first marriage bed and he was determined to erase that memory. He would use every one of his father’s seductive suggestions to bring her pleasure. He couldn’t imagine there’d been anything pleasant in the baron’s lovemaking efforts. “Everything will go to plan. No one would dare let any detail go awry with Ragna breathing down their neck.”

  She pulled away from him. “I’m nay worried about the arrangements. This will be the most organized wedding in history.”

  A knot of fear coiled in Aidan’s breast. She was still afraid. He thought he had slain her demons. The baron and Maknab were dead, and she had admitted she would not be happy without him in Scotland, but something held her in its thrall. He turned her to face him. “Tell me, Nolana. What is it that haunts you?”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I envy yer love of yer mother, Aidan.”

  This he had not expected. He remained silent, hoping she would confide in him.

  “I came to despise my mother. Her weakness was the cause of my torment.”

  He held her close, fingering her hair. “I don’t understand.”

  “My mother didna love Maknab, but she allowed him to control her life, and mine, because she couldna face life alone. She needed the support of a man so badly, it killed her, and almost cost me my life. I need ye, Aidan, but I’m afraid to surrender myself to ye.”

  Aidan took a deep breath, hoping his words would not alienate her. “I am not Maknab, and you are not your mother. I never met her, and I don’t know what drove her to him, but I do know what grief can do. I shut myself up in a monastery. Don’t judge your mother too harshly, Nolana. My grandmother took her own life and at the time my mother hated her for it, but she came to understand the power of grief and despair. Maknab sought to exploit your mother. That’s not why I want you. I love you. You’re essential to my happiness.”

  Nolana inhaled sharply and rocked her head in her hands. “But ye might die.”

  He took hold of her shoulders. “Death comes to us all...”

  “Nay,” she shouted. “I mean in our marriage bed. Ye teased me about a little death, but I dinna see the humor. My husband died trying to enter me. I am a sinner and God cursed my marriage bed because I wished for my husband’s death.”

  Aidan’s mouth fell open.

  Trying, she’d said.

  He took another deep breath, his thoughts in turmoil. He suddenly sensed how fragile this young woman was. “Listen to me carefully, Nolana. You’ve not had the benefit of a mother to enlighten you about marriage and what happens between a man and a woman.”

  She wrenched away from him. “I ken only too well. I was wed to a monster. I hated his touch.”

  He pulled her back. “Do you have the same feelings when I touch you?”

  Tears flowed freely down her blushing cheeks. “Nay. My feelings for ye are different. I ache for ye.”

  He kissed her forehead, humbled and exhilarated to be the man initiating his beautiful Nolana into these intimacies. “My sweet, it’s the ache of desire that leads to the little death. The joining of a man and a woman can be wonderful. It transports a person to another world. You die a little death. You’re out of your earthly body for a few glorious moments and you enter heaven.”

  She clung to the front of his doublet and lay her forehead against his chest. He put his hand on the back of her neck. She was warmer than a few moments before. “Our joining won’t be the same as the one you endured with Grouchet.”

  She glanced up at him, confusion in her eyes. “Grouchet didna…ye believe…nay. He ne’er joined his body to mine. He died trying.”

  Aidan wished the drumming in his ears would cease, then realized it was his heart. He dared not open his mouth lest a tiny squeak emerge. He wanted to laugh, cry, scream, shout. Instead, full of hope, he murmured, “You’re still a virgin?”

  She looked at him strangely. “Of course, I thought ye understood that. Were it otherwise, ye wouldna want me for wife.”

  The enormity of her innocence struck him full force, but he had to be forthright. “Nolana, it wouldn’t matter to me if you’d been taken by a whole army of men, I would still want you for my wife.”

  She wriggled to get free, but he held her fast. "I cannot tell you how elated I am I will be your first love. I promise it will be memorable. In a good way.”

  She gave up her struggles and leaned into him. “Forgive me, Aidan. I am unversed in the ways of good men. Please, be patient.”

  If they weren’t getting married on the morrow, he would have torn the clothes from her body and claimed her on the planked floor of the gallery. He cleared his throat, hoping the throbbing need he pressed against her would not alarm her. He had no inkling of the horrors that had transpired in the misbegotten matrimonial bed.

  Perhaps a taste of what was to happen on their wedding night might be in order, just to reassure her. He took her hand and placed it on his arousal. She startled, but did not take her hand away. “This is for you, Nolana. On the morrow, we’ll join our bodies and I will bury myself deep inside you, making us one.”

  She nodded, her breathing ragged, but kept her hand still. “Feel me, Nolana, feel what you do to me. I grow hard at your touch.”

  Slowly, her fingers pressed against his shaft. Tingles spiralled up his spine. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. The morrow seemed a long time off. She moaned when he cupped her breasts in his hands, rubbing his thumb over the erect nipples. He bent to lick each nipple in turn through the fabric of her gown. The pressure of her fingers increased. She murmured his name.

  An Uninvited Guest

  Nolana woke before dawn on the day of her wedding, still murmuring Aidan’s name. She’d felt bereft the night before when he curtailed their intimacies, but realized it was difficult for him too. She wanted to wrestle him to the floor and tear off his clothes, put her hands on his flesh.

  Aidan inflamed her. The memory of his lips on her nipples made her mouth go dry. Wetness flooded her most intimate place when she recalled the feel of his hard male length in her hand and remembered the desire in his eyes. She stretched languidly, purring like a lazy cat. Yawning, she sat up and lifted her breasts, fingering her pebbled nipples, remembering Aidan lying naked in the infirmary.

  When Maknab and Grouchet ogled her, she felt nothing but revulsion. The loving lust in Aidan’s warm blue gaze made her knees go weak and filled her with an urge to strip off her clothes and press his lips to her breast. This was what it was to desire a man. She ran her fingers through the snarls in her hair. Had her mother ached with the same feelings for her father? She had been devastated by his death. Perhaps Aidan was right. The grief and loneliness had been too much to bear. It had driven her to Maknab.

  Suddenly, Ragna flew into the chamber. “Come along, no lolling in bed today. We’ve much to do.”

  With a happy sigh, Nolana surrendered to the ministrations of her soon to be sister-by-marriage. It would be good to have a sister. Marriage to Aidan w
as providing her with a family as well as a husband, and, if God wished it, they would have children of their own. Life was good.

  * * *

  As he witnessed his nephew’s wedding, Baudoin de Montbryce’s memory went back to his own marriage to Carys. He and his brother Robert had married the same day, in a double ceremony. His wife and daughters would be disappointed they were missing these festivities. How blessed he had been in his choice of a wife.

  It had been a challenge to convince his parents he should wed the daughter of his father’s arch enemy, and he had whooped for joy when her father, Rhodri, had unexpectedly agreed to the marriage. Thanks be to God he had persevered, sure of his love for Carys.

  He prayed Aidan and Nolana would discover the same ecstasy he enjoyed with Carys. Judging by their inability to keep their hands off each other, the carnal side of the marriage would proceed well.

  The family often jested it was the curse of the Montbryce men to be in love with their wives, unlike most noblemen of their acquaintance. Perhaps the curse would carry over to the FitzRams.

  He leaned closer to Gallien who stood beside him. “If only my brother Caedmon were here to see this. He would be proud of his children.”

  Gallien smiled. “Mayhap he is here. Tante Agneta too. Don’t you feel them?”

  Baudoin looked towards the altar where Aidan and Nolana knelt, swearing their vows. Suddenly, a sparrow flew down from a beam and circled the interior of the church, causing many to look up as it flew overhead. It returned to the beam, where another sparrow perched.

  Aidan glanced up at the beam then turned to look at his uncle over his shoulder. Baudoin well knew the dream Caedmon had recorded in his codex, having accompanied his half brother back from the Crusade. He smiled at Aidan and nodded, then turned to his eldest son. “You may be right, Gallien. You may be right.”

  The rites proceeded. Aidan and Nolana were pronounced man and wife. He was about to claim his husband’s kiss, when the door banged open and a gust of wind swept a whirl of dust into the church. Necks craned as all eyes turned to see who had caused such a disturbance.