And he promised her the best was yet to come.
Tilda helped her slip into her shoes and finally finished fussing over her by tying a blue ribbon in her long hair. The servant stepped back and studied her mistress.
“’Twill be a beautiful bride ye are, my lady.” She wiped a tear away.
“Are you sad to see me leave Wellbury, Tilda?”
“Ye’ll be close by. I’m sure ye’ll visit often. Once we get yer brother married off, ye can make friends wi’ his bride, and we’ll see ye ‘round many a time.”
“Did I hear something about my bride?”
Merryn turned and saw Hugh standing in the doorway, a smile on his face. He’d returned two days after Geoffrey. The men had been thick as thieves, reliving stories of their time in France. She was simply happy that her brother would be present at her wedding.
“You look most handsome, Hugh.”
He came and took her hands in his. She looked into blue eyes the color of her own, though his hair was the fair flaxen of their mother.
“You, dearest sister, are stunning. Geoffrey is a lucky man to marry someone so beautiful both on the outside and within.” He embraced her and then kissed her cheek. “You have a sweet spirit, Merryn. I hope the woman I marry someday will be the same.”
She swallowed her sadness. Hugh had been betrothed, but his intended died from a fever while he’d been away from England. She knew once he saw her married today, he would begin the search for a bride of his own. He’d only known the girl slightly, so he did not seem too affected by her passing.
Before she knew it, Merryn found herself being led to the church. The minstrels guiding her along the path played a merry tune. The people of Wellbury fell in behind her, only to be joined by those from Kinwick and the village beyond. She even saw a few good souls from Winterbourne merge with the growing crowd, but she did not spy the earl of Winterbourne amongst them. The last she heard, Lord Berold had not yet returned from abroad. It did not bother her. Her father hadn’t particularly liked the earl. She felt much the same way.
As they approached the closed doors of the church, Merryn saw the priest standing before them, Ferand and Elia to his right.
But where was Geoffrey?
Suddenly, he stepped out from amidst the people surrounding her. Her pulse quickened at the sight of him. He’d tamed his thick locks. They were brushed back from his face, revealing his smooth olive skin and hazel eyes that sparkled as he watched her draw near. His broad shoulders and muscled chest filled his dark blue gypon and cote-hardie unlike any man present.
This glorious warrior would soon be her wedded husband.
A fluttering swept through her. Merryn grew faint. She pulled up and caught her breath, which came in short pants, like a dog that had overheated. Her heart raced. Her mouth grew dry.
She wanted this man. Only him. For all time.
He moved toward her and slipped her arm through his, steadying her.
“Don’t go fainting on me,” he warned, but his tone let her know he said it in jest. He led her to Father Dannet and signaled his cousin Raynor to move closer.
Raynor leaned between them and whispered, “’Tis the best man I am, Merryn. The best swordsman amongst those gathered. Geoffrey tells me a best man is chosen so the wedding ceremony will not be interrupted.” He rested a hand on his sword’s hilt. “I dare anyone to keep the two of you from wedded bliss,” he teased.
Father Dannet frowned at Raynor. He took a step back from the couple but still surveyed the crowd.
“Are ye of age?” the priest asked them.
“Aye,” they both replied.
“Do ye have parental consent?”
“Aye.”
Merryn had been told to answer thus. Though neither of her parents lived, her father had signed the betrothal contracts five years prior, thus indicating his consent in today’s proceedings.
“And finally, are ye related in any way by law?”
“Nay,” they responded.
The priest nodded solemnly, satisfied by their answers. “Then we shall begin.”
Geoffrey’s fingers entwined with hers as they stood next to one another, facing Father Jannet.
She found the next part of the rite boring. The dowry had to be read aloud for those witnessing the ceremony. Merryn had read the contracts years earlier and had almost fallen asleep while she did so, finding the language tedious. She wished for this to be finished so they could get to the important bits.
“The coins?” the priest asked.
Raynor handed Geoffrey a small bag, which in turn he handed to her.
“I give this to you, Merryn Mantel of Wellbury, to distribute to the needy. You shall do so on my behalf as my wife.”
He’d explained to her that once they joined in matrimony, she would be responsible for financial management of his affairs if he were gone from Kinwick, especially once his father passed and the title came to him.
Merryn thanked Geoffrey and clutched the cloth bag in her left hand. His fingers again laced through those of her right.
Father Jannet gave a short homily. She found her mind wandered to what the feast would be like.
And what their wedding night would hold.
She found herself blushing. Geoffrey looked down at her. She watched him bite back a smile. He knew her well enough to know what thoughts filled her head at this point.
“You shall now exchange your vows.”
Finally, they were getting somewhere.
Merryn turned to face her betrothed. Although tall for a woman, she still had to tilt her head back quite a bit in order to gaze into his eyes.
Her groom looked very serious now. If she knew one thing about this husband-to-be, it was that his word meant everything to him. Geoffrey was the most honorable man she knew. The words he would speak would bind them legally and morally for eternity.
“I, Geoffrey, take thee, Merryn, to wed.”
“I receive you.”
“I, Geoffrey, give my body to you in loyal matrimony.”
“I receive it.”
She repeated the same vows, and then the priest called for their wedding rings.
Geoffrey took the gold band and slipped it onto her thumb. “In the name of the Father.” He removed it and placed it on her index finger. “And of the Son.” He then changed fingers again. “And of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” He slid the ring onto the third finger of her hand, its final resting place. Merryn smiled at this physical sign of their commitment to one another.
“With this ring, I thee wed. This gold and silver, I thee give. With my body, I thee worship, and with this dowry, I thee endow.” His eyes blazed with determination. She knew she married a good man who would keep these sacred vows in his heart.
Merryn repeated the same as she placed the silver band on his finger, marveling at how a slim piece of metal and a few spoken words changed everything between them.
Father Jannet nodded to her, and she opened the bag of coins. Children politely lined up in front of her to receive one apiece, which they returned to their fathers.
With the coins now dispersed, the church doors opened.
She and Geoffrey followed Father Jannet into the church, the people behind them. After the usual prayers and mass, the priest offered his kiss of peace to the groom. In turn, the groom turned to offer one to his bride.
Geoffrey’s lips met hers. It reminded Merryn of the kiss they’d shared five years ago. Simple. Sweet. Full of promise. And hope.
They parted. She looked into his eyes, seeing that satisfaction rested there. She was now his wife for all time.
The blessing followed, and the crowd parted so they could exit the building. Geoffrey took her hand in his and literally ran to the doors and beyond. He kept running, pulling them around the corner of the church, out of sight from all.
Then he swung her around, backing her against the stone structure, his hands encircling her waist. Merryn gripped his shoulders. Geoffrey kissed her deeply, his tongue m
ating with hers, branding her as his, and his alone.
Now she felt truly married.
CHAPTER 5
“If I eat another bite, I shall burst!” Merryn proclaimed.
“You said that after the cheese. And the eggs. Then after the boar’s head and pigeon. And after—”
“Enough!” she cried.
Geoffrey’s hazel eyes twinkled with mischief. “So you think you’ve had your fill?” he asked.
She nodded.
His hand reached for hers under the table. He gave it a squeeze. “But my dearest wife, you haven’t had your fill . . . of me.” He leaned into her, his lips brushing her earlobe, sending tingles down her spine. He whispered, “I plan to fill you up all night. Every night.”
Merryn sensed the blush rising up her neck, spilling onto her cheeks. She pulled her hand from his and pushed him away playfully. “Do you enjoy being so outrageous?”
Geoffrey smiled. “Only with you.” He looked around the Great Hall. “’Tis time we think about heading to our bedchamber. Mayhap we can slip away whilst everyone makes merry.”
Raynor suddenly appeared at her elbow, kneeling. “I assume ’tis time to bed now that you’ve wed?”
Before she could answer, he slipped a hand under her garments and ran it along her leg.
“Raynor!” Merryn slapped at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He yanked and slid her garter over her shoe and held it up. He looked to Geoffrey. “Did you not tell her, Cousin?”
“Tell me what?” She looked from one to the other.
“’Tis custom for the unmarried male guests to try and snatch the bride’s garter when the happy couple leave the feast,” Geoffrey explained.
“What on earth for?” She looked back at Raynor and sized him up. “’Tis not as if you would wear it.”
“Nay, my lady. But I would give it to another.”
Geoffrey put an arm about her shoulders. “If my cousin can find one woman he has an affection for, he may give her this blue garter as a sign that he will be faithful to her and her alone.”
Raynor nodded. “Usually, ‘twould be done as you exit the Great Hall.” He gave her a shy smile. “And that might lead to your embarrassment, my lady. Thus, I shall let all know I have it in my possession, then they shall grant you some peace.”
He parted from them, twirling the garter on one finger, moving amongst the trestle tables to show off his prize.
“’Tis our cue to rise and leave the merrymaking,” Geoffrey told her.
It still took several minutes for them to depart. Final toasts were given, along with hugs and kisses.
At last, they ascended the stairs and made their way to Geoffrey’s chamber. Or rather their chamber. Being married would take some getting used to.
Sconces in the hallway lit their way as their steps echoed on the stone floor. A draft filled the corridor. Her new husband wrapped an arm about her waist and drew her close.
They reached their destination. Merryn was happy to find a fire burned, warming the chamber. Wine and cheese rested atop a table next to two chairs. Geoffrey closed the door.
She found herself growing nervous. What if she didn’t perform the marital act to his satisfaction? What if she failed again and again, no matter how hard she tried to please him? Would he be patient with her? It all seemed so complicated, according to Sephare’s explanation. Watching various animals mate had not clued her in sufficiently as to how humans went about the process.
Merryn knew she possessed intelligence. She could read and make numbers do whatever she wished. She understood about crops and how to make candles and weave tapestries. More than anything, her familiarity with herbs and practice with the sick had sharpened her skills as a healer.
But she now ventured into uncharted territory.
Geoffrey moved to the wine and poured some for each of them. She took the pewter cup he handed her and downed the entire contents out of sheer nerves. She set the cup down and began wandering restlessly about the room.
“Merryn?” His soft voice called to her. “I have something for you.”
She turned. Her feet moved toward him of their own free will. She stopped in front of him, her mouth grown dry.
He pulled something from his pocket but kept it clasped within his hand. Her curiosity grew.
He placed his palm against her face. It was warm to the touch.
“I provided gifts for our guests and the priest, but ‘tis also customary for the groom to bestow a gift upon his bride, as well.”
“A gift?”
Geoffrey’s thumb caressed her cheek. “I am supposed to compensate you for your lost virginity.”
“Oh.” She took a step back.
He moved back to her. His arms went around her waist. He tugged her to him. He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose then pressed his lips to her forehead. Merryn felt cherished in that moment.
“I had this made in France.” He brought his right hand around and opened it.
She looked down and saw a brooch resting there. The piece had equal amounts of gold and enamel, but what stood out were the brilliant sapphires.
Merryn raised her eyes to meet his.
“Your eyes are the bluest of blue, my love. When I saw these stones, I knew ‘twas meant for you to wear. Will you do so, each and every day? I know ‘tis but a token of my love for you, but ‘twould make me happy to see it pinned to your cote-hardie.”
She lifted the brooch from his hand and smiled. “Never a day shall pass that I do not pin it on. I shall touch it a dozen times a day when we’re apart, knowing we will soon be together.”
Merryn brought the piece to her lips and gave it a solemn kiss. She looked back at her husband. “You spoil me. I have nothing for you.”
Geoffrey slipped a hand inside his clothing and pulled out the gold necklace she’d given him on the day of their betrothal.
“This has rested next to my heart since we parted five years ago. I have never taken it off. I never shall. You have always been next to me as I wore it. ‘Tis the best gift I ever received.
“Till now.” His hands cupped her face. “I know you are apprehensive, my love. But we shall go on this grand journey together. Tonight is but the first of our many explorations. Come.”
Merryn set the brooch on the table. Her hand, warm in his, held on tightly as they crossed the chamber. Geoffrey pulled the curtains from the bed.
“I must warn you that the first time hurts a virgin. The pain is swift, but ‘twill quickly recede. And it never comes again. Of that I can promise.”
She understood that part of the coupling. Sephare told her that her husband would penetrate her and break through her maidenhead. When Merryn asked about the pain, the healer told her nothing compared to it. But it would be quick and gone, and she wasn’t to dwell on it.
Still, she found herself growing tense. She wished to get it over with so she could concentrate on the good portion of the marital act.
Her new husband rested his hands on her shoulders and gazed into her eyes.
“You are the most beautiful bride that any man has claimed. I shall tell you ever morn how beautiful you are.”
“Even when I am wrinkled and gray?”
He smiled. “Especially then. For that means we will have lived a lifetime together. In love.”
With that, he kissed her. The tenderness of his kiss sweetened as he deepened it, his tongue finding hers. He slipped the circlet from her head and tossed it aside so he could run his fingers through her hair.
They kissed forever, his hands roaming through her hair and down her back, finally reaching her buttocks. He squeezed them and pulled her against him. She felt something hard and knew his manhood grew strong and solid.
Geoffrey trailed kisses to her earlobe, his breath as whispery as velvet. His tongue teased her ear, and a jolt of desire shot through her. His mouth continued down her neck as he moved them to the bed. Merryn found herself suddenly lying down, Geoffrey next to her
. His kisses trailed to the top of her breast.
“Do you trust me?”
She nodded, the words unable to come.
Slowly and lovingly, he undressed her, till all that remained between them was her chemise. Then he stood and doffed his clothes. He took his time, allowing her to study his body as each piece came off and the dancing shadows of the firelight moved over it.
God in Heaven!
When he’d removed the last bit, he stood before her. Her mouth went dry. Her husband seemed made of perfection. His arms and legs looked sculpted of stone. His heavily muscled chest, covered in a dusting of dark hair that trailed to his flat belly, made her want to run her palms all over it.
And his manhood stood at attention.
Merryn swallowed, knowing where it would go but unsure how something so large would fit.
“Do I have your approval?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” she replied, her words whispered.
Then she sat up and boldly pulled her chemise over her head. She thought it only fair that he see his end of their bargain. She tossed it to the ground.
Geoffrey gasped. His eyes widened as he looked at her. He reached a hand out to her. She took it. He eased her off the bed.
She stood before him, nervous, but remained still as his eyes roamed over her.
“Do I please you?” she asked quietly, hoping she did.
He caught her up in his arms. “Oh, Merryn. My most precious gift.”
This time his kiss was heated, filled with excitement. She found herself responding in kind. Somehow, they wound up on the bed again. He loomed over her, kissing her breast, laving it, nipping at it. Each touch made a throbbing in her lower region pound ferociously.
“I know not what I need from you. Only that I do need you,” she told him breathlessly.
He touched her where the throbbing ached most, his fingers parting her folds. He began stroking her.
Word of Honor (Knights of Valor Book 1) Page 3