Grasso, Patricia

by Love in a Mist

  Inside Hampton Court's great hall, Keely sat between her husband and her father. Lady Dawn sat on the duke's left while the queen sat on Richard's right. Beyond Elizabeth were the Archbishop of Canterbury, Louise Devereux, and Uncle Hal. Morgana and Willis Smythe, much to their irritation, sat at a lower table along with Henry, who could not have cared less where he sat.

  As tradition demanded, Richard fed Keely the requisite quince, which represented female fertility. She ate the yellow apple to the loud applause and wild cheering of the courtiers who'd begun drinking as soon as they'd entered the hall. Keely couldn't help wondering if the gleam in her husband's eyes meant he was in a hurry for an heir so that he could rush off to Ireland and begin his tour of duty.

  The servants entered with course after course of their wedding feast, the likes of which Keely had never seen. All manner of fish arrived first, including salmon in wine sauce and her husband's Colchester mussels. Next came roasted pheasant, followed by a variety of meat dishes. There were braised sides of beef, broiled venison in pepper sauce, and pork roast with spiced wine. Cheshire cheeses, fruit pies, rose pudding, and pine nut candy arrived last, along with a spectacular wedding cake created in the image of two swans whose necks curved to form a heart shape.

  "I do not see Odo and Hew," Keely whispered, leaning close to her husband.

  "Your cousins sit in the rear of the hall," Richard replied.

  "Who put my family in the back?" Keely glared at him.

  "Sitting with May and June was their choice." Richard kissed her lips and warned in a whisper, "Be careful, dearest. That lovely face of yours will freeze into an ugly grimace. Then what will you do?"

  " 'Tis simple. I'll refrain from looking into mirrors," Keely replied, the hint of a smile touching her lips. "The important question is, what will you do?"

  " 'Tis simple," Richard parried, his courtier's wickedness coining to the fore. "I'll snuff the candles before I futter you."

  Keely gasped in offended surprise, and her face flamed with scorching embarrassment. No man had ever spoken so crudely to her.

  Richard took pity on her innocence. He drew her into a sideways hug and planted a kiss on her cheek. "I'm teasing. Are my lips burned from touching your face?"

  Keely couldn't quite suppress her smile.

  While the courtiers consumed everything in sight, musicians circulated throughout the hall and entertained on their pipes and lutes. The dancing began when the feasting ended.

  Proud of his bride, Richard escorted Keely around the hall and introduced her to the other courtiers. Keely felt confused by all the unfamiliar faces and names, and utterly conspicuous as the center of everyone's attention. The males swarmed about her, their interested gazes inviting her to seek their company at a later date. The females, especially the younger ones, smiled politely; but their sullen gazes spoke volumes and reflected their unvoiced envy.

  "Dearest, would you care to dance?" Richard asked when he managed a minute alone with his bride.

  Keely froze in a near panic. She didn't know how to dance, but she'd rather eat pork than admit she lacked that cultured skill.

  "The wine made me dizzy," she lied. "Would you mind if I didn't?"

  "Of course not, sweetheart. I do owe an obligatory dance to the queen. Let me take you to Lady Dawn."

  As Richard and Keely crossed the hall, they passed a group of young females that included the Ladies Morgana, Sarah, and Jane. Keely cringed inwardly as their conversation reached her ears.

  "She's my father's penniless bastard," Morgana said in a loud voice.

  "Why would Basildon stoop to marry a bastard?" Lady Sarah asked. "He could have had any woman in England."

  "Because she's uncommonly beautiful," Lady Jane answered, critically eyeing her rival for the earl's affections.

  "Any of us would have better suited him," Morgana remarked. "My bastard sister played the harlot for the earl and contrived for my father to find them. He forced the earl into this unwanted marriage."

  Richard stopped short and started to turn around, but Keely touched his forearm and turned a pleading gaze upon him.

  " 'Tis been a wonderful day," Keely said, her expression stricken. "Do not mar its beauty by calling undue attention to her lies. 'Tis spite that rules her tongue. Morgana believes I've usurped all that was meant to be hers. Mayhap I'd feel the same in her position."

  Richard nodded in understanding but said, "You are a saint who never has a bad word for anyone."

  "I did for my father on Samhuinn."

  "You were upset," he reminded her.

  "And so is Morgana," she replied.

  While Richard danced with the queen, Keely stood in the company of his mother and Lady Dawn, but her thoughts centered on her husband instead of the conversation swirling around her. Watching him, Keely wished she possessed the skill to partner him on the dance floor. She'd escaped with her ignorance undetected this time-— but what excuse would she use on all the other nights of her life?

  Richard returned to Keely's side and led her away on the pretext that he wanted to introduce her to someone across the hall. Nonchalantly, he guided her around the perimeter of the chamber, but when they neared its entrance, he yanked her outside, ordering, "And now, my lady, run."

  As they raced through the maze of corridors, Keely asked, "Why are we running?"

  "Those bawdy drunks will strip us naked," Richard answered without breaking stride. "I'll share the sight of your beauty with no man."

  His words made Keely run even faster, which brought a smile to his lips. He never would have imagined a pagan wench would be so modest.

  Reaching the safety of their chamber, Richard slammed the door shut and bolted it. Within seconds, they heard loud banging, men's voices slurred with drink, and female giggles.

  "Devereux, you cheated us!" shouted Willis Smythe.

  "Disperse," Richard called, "or I'll pauper every last one of you."

  As the voices and the laughter drifted back down the corridor and faded away, Richard turned around to stare at his bride. Suddenly shy, Keely dropped her gaze to the floor.

  My beautiful bride fears what comes next, Richard realized. His own knowledge extended only to the experienced and willing. How could he best make her relax and enjoy herself? And then it came to him.

  Richard unbuckled his belt and dropped it on the floor. His doublet followed that.

  Keely refused to look up. She did, however, know what he was doing, as evidenced by the becoming blush that stained her cheeks.

  Richard smiled. He removed his shirt and tossed it at her feet.

  Staring at it, Keely felt like crawling into a hole. Holy stones! What was she expected to do? She closed her eyes against what she knew was coming next—his pantaloons.

  "Look at me, dearest." His voice was a soft caress.

  Ever so slowly, Keely lifted her gaze from his boots, to his well-muscled pantalooned thighs, to his magnificently bared chest. She let out a peal of laughter.

  There stood the renowned Earl of Basildon with his upper arm muscles dancing to the beat of a silent tune. He grinned and opened his arms, inviting her into his embrace.

  And Keely went to him. She walked straight into his embrace and pressed herself against the hard muscular planes of his body. The last thing she saw before his lips captured hers was his devastating smile.

  Richard kissed her slowly and lingeringly. He knew he needed to take his time with his bride and coax her into doing his bidding willingly. Only then could he truly find his own satisfaction.

  "My beautiful bride," he whispered, drawing back finally, caressing her silken cheek almost reverently.

  "What about your tongue touching the tip of your nose?" Keely asked.

  "I lied about that," Richard admitted without the slightest trace of remorse.

  "Why would you do that?"

  Richard cocked a copper brow at her. "To impress you, of course."

  Keely gave him a wry smile, and her violet eyes sparkled like
amethysts. "I was very impressed, but your honesty impresses me even more."

  " 'Tis good of you to notice my finer points of character, dearest," Richard said with mock solemnity, keeping their conversation light lest he frighten his nervous bride. "If you turn around, I'll play the tiringwoman for you."

  Exhibiting the practiced skill of a man who has unfastened hundreds of women's gowns, Richard completed his task within mere seconds, but his expertise was lost on his innocent bride. He traced a finger down the delicate column of her spine and then nuzzled the side of her neck with his lips.

  Keely shivered at the sensations he created. Holy stones! She felt hot and cold at the same time. But how could that be?

  "Cold, dearest?" Richard asked, gently turning her around to face him. "Shall I stoke the fire?"

  Self-conscious in her modesty, Keely clutched the bodice of her wedding gown to her breasts and stared at him. "I'm fine," she managed to say in an embarrassed whisper.

  Richard smiled with all the tenderness he felt for her. "You can change behind the screen over there," he said, gesturing with a slight incline of his head.

  Keely hurried across the chamber to the refuge of the screen. She stepped out of her wedding gown and placed it neatly across a stool, then removed her undergarments and donned the nightshirt that had been made especially for this night of nights.

  Holy stones! Keely thought, looking down at herself in the gauzy nightshirt. The damned gown was transparent. For all that it covered, she might as well have worn nothing at all! She lingered behind the screen in nervous indecision.

  "Perhaps we should send for May and June," Keely called, stalling for time.

  "Do you need my help?"

  "No." She answered too quickly.

  Richard smiled at that.

  "I mean, the gown might wrinkle," Keely amended.

  "Do you plan to wear it in the morning?" Richard asked, laughter lurking in his voice.

  "No, perhaps a daughter of ours..." Realizing how absurd she sounded, Keely broke off.

  Richard did chuckle then. "Do you possess some minor deformity of which I am unaware?" he teased her.

  "No." Still, Keely refused to step from behind the screen.

  "Are you a coward?" Richard challenged, hoping she'd respond to that.

  Keely stepped from behind the screen. Embarrassment kept her gaze glued to the floor, but a telltale blush stained her cheeks.

  Richard stared at his bride through emerald eyes that gleamed with desire. His breath caught raggedly in his throat at the sight of her beauty, and his manhood stirred with anticipation. Petite and curvaceously slim, she was even lovelier than he'd imagined.

  Richard admired her shapely legs, the alluring curves of her hips, and the enticing duskiness of her nipples, visible through the gauzy transparent silk. Good Christ, all that he saw now belonged to him. In a few short moments he would bury himself deep within his beautiful bride and possess her body and—he hoped—her soul. The high blush coloring her cheeks reminded him that he needed to proceed slowly with her initiation into the joys of marital intimacy.

  "Have you lost something on the floor?" Richard asked dryly.

  Keely snapped her head up and nearly swooned at the incredible sight that greeted her. The earl wore an emerald silk bedrobe. While she'd been undressing behind the screen, he'd been undressing too. She hadn't expected that. Keely knew he wore nothing beneath that bedrobe—-and she didn't need her Druid's instinct to tell her so.

  Pointedly ignoring her fascinated stare, Richard suppressed his smile and lit the incense inside the brass urn on the bedside table. Almost instantly, the delicate perfumed fragrance of jasmine permeated the air within the chamber. Then he poured a goblet of wine and sat on the edge of the bed.

  Finally, Richard looked at her and patted the edge of the bed beside him. "Sit with me," he said. "We'll share the wine."

  His invitation moved her into action, but it wasn't the one he'd expected.

  "I need something," Keely told him, and hurried across the chamber in the opposite direction.

  Keely rummaged through her belongings until she found what she wanted—two dried roots with stems. Turning around, she gulped nervously and walked toward the bed like a felon going to the gallows.

  " 'Tis dragonwort," Keely explained, holding one root up before she tucked it beneath the pillows. She blushed and added in an embarrassed whisper, "Dragonwort promotes conception."

  Richard's gaze softened on her. He nodded solemnly and asked, "And the other?"

  "Yarrow," she answered, dropping it inside the brass urn to mingle and burn with the jasmine. " 'Tis known for keeping couples happily married."

  Richard smiled then, but Keely never saw it. Instead, she whirled around and scanned the chamber in growing desperation. She searched her mind for something—anything—that would prevent her from having to sit beside him on the bed.

  Knowing she was stalling, Richard watched her with tender amusement lighting his emerald eyes. In a deep husky voice, he ordered, "Dearest, look at me."

  Keely turned around slowly. Filled with an emotion she was unable to identify, his emerald gaze mesmerized her.

  "Sit with me?"

  Keely cast him a nervous wobbly smile and sat on the edge of the bed. She stared straight ahead, as if frozen in stone.

  Richard reached over and with one hand gently turned her face toward him, then waited patiently until she summoned the courage to lift her gaze from his throat to his eyes. "Keely, I am the man who sat in a garden and promised never to hurt you," Richard said. "I am also the man who willingly suffered a public humiliation by proposing marriage on bended knee in a hall filled with listening servants. Why are you suddenly afraid of me?"

  "I—I'm not afraid," Keely tried to explain. "Not exactly."

  Richard put his arm around her shoulder and drew her against the side of his body. "Have you ever been alone with a man?"

  "Yes."

  Richard snapped his eyebrows together. Her honest answer wasn't the one he'd expected. "Who?" he asked.

  "Odo and Hew. And Rhys, of course."

  Richard relaxed.

  "And—"

  "Who?" he demanded.

  "Are you angry with me?" Keely asked, her eyes large with fright.

  "Never answer my questions with questions of your own," Richard said, his voice stern. "With whom else were you alone?"

  "I was alone with you," she reminded him, "at your house."

  Richard smiled with immense relief. "Do you understand what we are going to do tonight?"

  Keely nodded. She wished with all her heart that she didn't know what her fate would be.

  "Tell me, dearest."

  Keely stared at him in surprise, then asked, "Don't you know?"

  Richard struggled against a shout of laughter and won. "Of course, I know," he said with a smile. "I wished to know if what you're thinking is correct."

  "You're going to futter me," Keely blurted out baldly, her voice rising with her panic. "Just as you said at dinner."

  Richard felt no urge to laugh now. His bride feared him, and he wanted to calm her in order to maximize her pleasure. Whatever happened in their marriage bed that night would color their relations for as long as they lived.

  "I should never have said that," Richard told her. " 'Twas my courtier's dim wit coming to the fore.... Animals futter, sweetheart. Men and women make love together. 'Tis a sharing of their bodies, their hearts, and their souls." He searched his mind for a solid analogy she could understand. "What are the physical earthly things you love to feel?" he asked.

  Keely thought a moment and then cast him a shy, thoroughly enchanting smile. "I love the dewy grass between my toes, warm sunshine on my shoulders, and a gentle summer's breeze tickling my face."

  Richard smiled. His bride was the only woman of his acquaintance who would have given such a priceless answer. His heart filled with aching tenderness for this unaffected innocent he'd made his wife.

  "Ma
king love feels like all that and more" Richard promised.

  That perked Keely's interest, and she cocked her head to one side. "Truly?"

  Richard nodded knowingly and correctly read the shining interest in her eyes. He stood then and faced her, holding his hand out in invitation, as if he were asking her to dance.

  Keely dropped her gaze from his gleaming emerald eyes to his outstretched hand. When she raised her eyes to his again, Richard saw that apprehension had crept into her gaze again. Her small white teeth worried her full bottom lip, an endearing nervous habit of hers that he'd noticed at other stressful moments.

  "I'll stop whenever you say," Richard promised. "Trust me?"

  In an unconsciously sensual gesture, Keely flicked her tongue out and wet her lips, gone dry from nervousness. She dropped her violet gaze to his hand once more, then reached out and placed her smaller hand in his.

  When she stood and faced him, Richard reached out with both hands and slid the straps of her nightshift off her shoulders. The gown fluttered to the floor at her feet. Wearing nothing except for the gleaming dragon pendant, she appeared like a pagan princess.

  Keely blushed furiously and bowed her head in maidenly shame.

  Instead of reaching for her body as he wished to do, Richard tilted her chin up and said, "Let me admire your proud beauty."

  Keely knew what he meant. She raised her head high like a beautiful pagan queen and squared her shoulders, which thrust her perfectly formed breasts forward.

  Richard worshipped her with his eyes. His gaze dropped from her hauntingly lovely face to her dusky-nippled breasts and then traveled down to her tiny waist, her slim yet curvaceous hips, and finally her dainty feet.

  When his scorching gaze returned to hers, he asked, "Do you feel the sun's warmth yet?"

  Keely smiled at his words.

  Without taking his gaze from hers, Richard began to unfasten his bedrobe's belt. "Stop," Keely said, panicking.

  The instant she said the word, Richard stilled his hands. "As you stand naked before me, dearest, I would stand naked before you," he coaxed. "I need to feel your admiring gaze on my body."