by Mary Wine
“Then I will allow it.”
She bristled and his eyes narrowed.
“Have mercy, Isabel. I mean no offense with my words, but my life has been one of command. As has yours, which is why you take exception to my rules.”
She laughed, a soft sound that she closed her lips against, trying to contain the sound because there were so many near. “We are both used to ruling.”
“Aye.” He pointed at the tower. “Our efforts combine well.”
“Very well.”
A calm settled over her and she realized it was more than peace. It was a sense of happiness.
One that was very welcome.
* * *
Jacques growled at his scribe. The man’s hands shook and he crumpled the edge of the letter he read.
“My apologies, my lord. But that is what your father has written.”
“I know it is!” Jacques snarled. “Get out.”
The man scrambled to collect his writing desk and stumbled through the tent on his way out.
Curse Ramon de Segrave!
But cursing the man wouldn’t gain him what he needed. His father wanted the land and had charged him with recovering it.
So Isabel of Camoys would have to find herself a widow once again.
At least he would enjoy doing that part of his father’s bidding.
Nine
Harvest time was a busy time.
Everyone at Thistle Keep raced to bring in the crops and store them for winter before anything spoiled. There were the cellars to be seen to and small beer to be brewed. There was barley and fruit to be stored, but every room was filled already. Isabel even handed off Griffin to her escort when the days began to shorten and there was too much to be lost by exercising him herself. Ramon sent his men to the fields to help bring in the oats, and then had them digging privies before the snow began to fall.
The autumn rain came but there was still much to do. By the time the last of the root vegetables were being brought in, the days were short and it was time to wear thicker clothing. During the long winter months, there would be sewing to do, while the villagers set their hands to making mail.
“My lady…”
Ramon’s squire, Thomas, came into the kitchen in the early afternoon. “My lord would have you attend him.”
Thomas was lanky but towered over her. She was sure he’d grown over the summer.
She dusted her hands and smoothed one over her hair before going to the yard. The sky was dark with gray clouds that promised a good downpour before the night was through. There was a chill in the air, too, but she found it soothing, for the kitchens had been overly warm with the brewing of cider.
Ramon was waiting for her, the yard quiet. His men stood or sat looking at the new tower. Ramon turned and offered her his hand.
“Are you ready to see our new home, Wife?”
Her breath caught. “It is finished?”
He nodded. “I would never have thought such a feat possible. But with the pile of cut stones you had—”
“And the addition of your men to build,” she said as she reached him and placed her hand in his.
“The structure is finished but the kitchens still need work.”
He led her up the steps and her heart skipped a beat.
“This will be the center tower for our castle, Isabel.”
It was large and round, to make it difficult to attack. Just because they had no tall timber close by didn’t mean someone couldn’t bring in trebuchets. Once they were on top of the steps, she was able to see that Thistle Keep was aligned with the new building. It was a third of the size and people were spilling out of it to look at the new keep. Excitement lit their faces.
The doorway was huge. Isabel looked up to where the keystone was set into the arch to keep it in place. Ramon suddenly scooped her off her feet, to the delight of his men.
“Ramon,” she admonished softly.
Her husband winked at her as he carried her inside for the first time. The first floor was a huge great hall. Half of it was already full of trestle tables, and she realized they were the ones Ramon had carried to the Holy Land and back; the remains of his Crusade camp.
He guided her toward the stairs, which were wider than the ones in Thistle Keep, and started up, working their way around the structure until they came to the second floor. Dust still floated in the air and there was a scent of fresh mortar. The only stirring of breeze came from the open windows. The stone was set solidly and would hold for generations.
The second floor was split into four chambers, all of them unfurnished but full of possibilities. Another flight of stairs and they reached the third floor. The stairs ended at a small landing in front of double doors.
“Our chamber,” he announced as he opened one of the doors. Below them, they could hear the echo of footsteps and excited voices as people followed them inside. Children laughed as Ramon moved her inside the chamber.
“The lord’s chamber,” she said, in awe of its size.
“Our chamber.”
She glanced at him, uncertain, but he returned her gaze with a steady confidence that warmed her heart.
“I have spent enough time in the company of my men. This will be our sanctuary.”
It was sectioned off into two chambers. A wall with two arched doorways was set a third of the way into the room. The furniture from Ramon’s tent was already inside: his chair and side table with his scribe’s desk. Her own things were there as well. The chest where her few fine garments were stored was there, along with her silver comb and the small chest that had her silk ribbons in it.
The stone floor was swept clean, no fine carpet on it. That pleased her, for it meant Ramon was not a man who sat in comfort while his men wallowed in mud.
“This winter, I’ll have a table made. So we might enjoy a private supper here if we wish.”
He laughed at the surprise on her face.
“You needn’t laugh, sir.”
He chuckled. “And why not, Wife? Where is it written that a marriage must be all duty? Or that I may not enjoy my labors with you?” He turned his head toward the next chamber. “I have every intention of enjoying the bed I had made for us.”
Beyond the wall was a bedchamber. Isabel gasped at the sight of the huge bed sitting in it.
“What is that?” The size of it astounded her.
“That will be the bed I ravish you in.”
He scooped her up again and carried her to it. Her eyes widened when he followed her down onto it.
“You cannot mean now…”
He nuzzled her neck, pressing a hot kiss there that sent ripples of delight across her skin. “Have I not finished my work?”
He caught her hands and pressed a kiss against each one. “Should I not receive your tender touch as a reward?”
“A reward is given, not pinned down beneath you, Husband.”
He offered her a hungry look. “My reward, so my rules.”
She tapped a finger against his lips, heat moving through her and making her bold. “I am sorry to hear you do not have the strength to wait on my whim… I had thought I might…well, as you will not allow me my way, there is little point in telling you.” Her tone become disappointed.
His complexion darkened. “Doubting me again…” He rolled off her and settled on his back in the middle of the huge bed. “I await your whims…vixen.”
The word vixen shouldn’t have pleased her but it did. She sat up and contemplated the huge man waiting for her to decide what she wanted to do with him. She’d never encountered such a situation. Women submitted to their husbands, after all.
Yet Rauxana hadn’t.
Isabel thought of the way the exotic woman had looked when she drove Jacques mad, like it set fire to a bundle of ideas she had never been bold enough to admit having.
Isabel rose to her knees and traced her girdle with her finger. Ramon’s attention followed her motion. She undid the closure and let it fall behind her. The fabric of her robes loosened, allowing her to tug it up and over her head. When it blocked her sight of Ramon, her breath stuck in her throat.
Was he waiting?
Anticipation twisted through her, setting off a hunger that she knew very well would only be sated by having him inside her.
But perhaps…she would be the one riding him tonight.
Her cheeks turned scarlet when she tossed her over robe aside. She boldly reached for her under robe and sent it onto the floor with a swift motion.
Slow down. Rauxana had moved slowly…
“Christ, you are a vision,” Ramon growled, his expression tight as his gaze slid down her bare frame. He started to sit up.
“Wait.” Her tone was soft but firm. He froze.
“I crave you, Isabel.”
She drew in a deep breath and let it out before crawling across the bed to Ramon. He relaxed onto his back but his expression was strained.
“As I crave you… Yet, words are not always sufficient. You should allow me to…show you.” She placed her hand on his thigh and stroked his leg…up…up…until she crossed over onto his body.
“Holy Mother,” he exclaimed as her fingertips brushed his member.
His jaw tightened and his eyes slid closed. Her nipples beaded as excitement flared up inside her, but she controlled her own needs, intoxicated by the idea of driving him as insane as he so often did to her.
Was that arrogance? She didn’t bloody care.
“I wonder if you will cry out as I do beneath your lips…”
He jerked, his eyes snapping open. “Nay—”
She cut him off as she grasped his member. It was hard and throbbing beneath the layers of his clothing.
“Nay?” she questioned softly, stroking his length up and down as his breathing became harsh. “I thought you craved your vixen.”
She tossed his tunic up and grasped the top of his leggings to pull them down. His member sprang up, swollen with desire. “A vixen does as she pleases with what she desires.”
“Until she’s caught,” he warned, his tone promising.
“Oh well…” She rolled over onto her back, the amazing size of the bed allowing her space. “I suppose I shall just lie here and pray…since you desire submission.”
He settled on his side and looked at her. “You are toying with me.”
She rolled onto her side so that they were facing one another. Her belly was fluttering with nervousness, for she’d never been so brazen, but this was more fun than she’d ever had with a man. “Does not a vixen play?”
She was holding her breath, waiting to see what he’d make of her boldness.
He laughed and tore his tunic off. “Indeed.” He moved off the bed and pushed his leggings down to his feet and stepped out of them. “Even if I am slightly bewildered to discover how much I enjoy the way we play together.”
“It is…unique,” she answered breathlessly. “I like it.”
For a moment, she felt exposed. Their gazes locked and she witnessed the same need in his gaze.
“As do I, Isabel.”
It took effort to remain still and not cover her bare breasts. His dark gaze devoured them but the reward was the desire glittering in those dark orbs. Her eyelashes fluttered as she realized how vain she was.
“You are beautiful. Do not think it a sin to enjoy the fact that I find you perfect.”
He crawled onto the bed and lay on his back. He gave her a challenging look that made her heart accelerate.
Did she dare?
Yes…
She shivered, but reached out and closed her fingers around his staff. He sucked in his breath, his face tightening with enjoyment. A surge of confidence filled her, driving up the level of boldness burning inside her. She wanted to drive him as insane as he had driven her.
She craved the same power she’d witnessed in Rauxana’s eyes. Not for the sake of control, but because she wanted to be Ramon’s match. At least while their chamber door was closed.
She trailed her fingers along his length, delighting in the silky smooth skin that covered his hard member.
“Your touch will be my undoing.” His tone was harsh, but she heard the pleasure in it. That same twisting, burning enjoyment that she discovered beneath his lips.
She hoped he’d enjoy her touch as much as she had his.
She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against his staff.
He snarled something profane.
She looked at him in shock; the expression on his face intrigued her. It was nearly savage.
She leaned down and licked his staff. Just a slow touch of her tongue to his skin. He jerked and she saw his hands claw at the bedding.
She recalled doing the same. It was empowering. And exciting. And more intimate than anything she’d ever experienced.
She licked him again, working her hand along his member as she licked the head. His breathing roughened, becoming harsh as she opened her mouth and took him completely inside. There she was free to use her tongue on the underside of his member, trying to mimic what he’d done to her.
He jerked and cursed again, his hips thrusting toward her mouth, driving his member inside.
“Enough!” he roared as he sat up and lifted her shoulders away from him.
“No, it is not.” She pulled her legs up so that she was straddling him. “I will ride you this time.”
His face tightened. She took advantage of his lapse and moved her body over his. She was shaking but refused to let uncertainty eat away at her resolve.
She needed to be his match.
Needed to be more than his to plow.
She lowered herself and felt his member pressing into her passage.
Just needed him.
And she was going to take him.
“Vixen,” he accused softly. He cupped her hips and guided her down his length.
“Aye,” she agreed before she rose and plunged back down.
Pleasure spiked through her, driving the breath from her body. She was rising again and then back down, the rhythm coming to her.
“You have me torn now.”
Pleasure was building inside her with every rise and fall, making it hard to concentrate on his words. “You would rather I was on my back?”
He grinned at her. “I want to keep you in the saddle.” His hands tightened on her hips, pushing her down. He groaned when she sheathed him completely. “But I also want to cup these…”
He reached up and filled his hands with her breasts. “These mouthwatering handfuls.”
He curled up and captured one nipple between his lips. The contact was searing and sent a rush of urgency through her. She rode him faster, harder, gripping his hips as she felt herself nearing that peak again. He fell back, his lips curling as he thrust up to meet her downward plunges.
“That’s it, my beauty…ride me to the finish…”
It wasn’t even a question of whether or not she wanted to. She needed to.
It was the only thought in her mind. Completely controlling, gripping, and enchanting. She’d never needed anything as much as she needed the next thrust. Never craved anything more than the pleasure beginning to burst inside her. It consumed her, rising up from the motion of him filling her with his hard flesh. Erupting in a burst of pleasure so bright she cried out.
Ramon growled, holding her in place above him as he thrust up into her several more times and gained his own release. She was drawing a breath when she felt his seed beginning to fill her. The hot spurt sent another ripple of delight through her. The walls of her passage gripped his length, milking him of his seed, as she collapsed onto him, and nothing else mattered at all.
/> Nothing.
* * *
“Wake and kiss me, Wife.”
She rolled over, stretching, and felt as though she had never slept so deeply. The bedding started to slip down her body as she moved, and Ramon reached over and pulled it back up.
Her vision cleared and she realized Thomas was tending to his lord.
She grabbed the bedding and frowned at the amusement twinkling in her husband’s eyes. He leaned down and kissed her pouting lips.
“I’m off to down a stag, now that this keep is finished.” Her mouth started watering.
She smiled. “The meat will be welcome.”
Only a noble or royal could down a stag. She sat up, careful to keep the bedding held up to her chin. A short snort came from the outer room.
“Ambrose St. Martin,” she admonished softly.
Her husband’s friend gave her an amused look before he turned his back on her. His mail shimmered in the early sunlight, and he stomped on the floor.
“Pull yourself from your bedchamber, Ramon! Even if I understand what tempts you to stay there, the day has begun.”
Ramon sighed. He winked at her before walking across the chamber to join his friend. They left, and Mildred bustled into the chamber.
“What a fine keep!” her nurse exclaimed as she handed Isabel an under robe. “So much space. Mind you, it’s already full because of the lord’s men, but such a space nonetheless. He sent a third of his men to help cut more stone. By next season, we’ll see the beginning of a true castle here.”
Mildred wasn’t the only one in a fine mood. Everyone seemed to be in good cheer. Isabel saw more smiles on her way down the stairs. There was even soft singing as the women went about their duties.
The harvest was still underway and the half-finished new kitchen was pressed into service. There was stewing and brewing to do. Isabel held back one of the large hearths, anticipating a stag to roast. The children started licking their lips with anticipation, for the only time they might have hoped for such a treat was at the harvest festival, still a month off. They sat on the steps of the keep, watching for Ramon and his men to return.
* * *
“He is a baron, Lord Raeburn.” His men were always loyal, but only because Jacques made sure they were paid well. “And so long as he draws breath, we cannot claim the prize.”