Pleasurably Undone!

by Christine Merrill, Michelle Willingham, Louise Allen, Terri Brisbin

  By the time he reached the alcove above, a lovely widow had already approached Soren, clearly with hopes of a liaison for the coming night. Shaking his head over how easily the fairer sex fell over themselves at the feet of the “Beautiful Bastard,” Simon took a deep drink of the wine in his cup and swallowed it.

  “The lady is in love with you already, Simon. You have nothing to fear with her.” Giles reached his side and looked down over those gathered below them. “Take her gently, and all will be well between you.”

  He held out his empty cup and Simon filled it before his. “I have always favored my father’s family,” he offered. “We are not known for our grace or small statures.”

  “Ah, but to have watched you fight with your sword in battle is to know the lie of those words. And small or large, it will all work out if you have but a care for the lady’s pleasure first.”

  Simon again drank down most of the wine in his cup before Giles pulled it from his grasp.

  “If you continue to drink at this rate, the only thing the fair Elise has to worry about is you falling asleep on top of her.” Giles eyed him once more. “Have you never taken a virgin before?”

  He said nothing, but that was answer enough for his knowing friend.

  “See to her pleasure first and then to your own. Once she has found hers, she will be more accepting of allowing you yours.” Giles drank the rest of his wine.

  It seemed like a sound plan, but the strength of Simon’s desire for Elise was there in his body already for his manhood rose hard against his breeches. Would he be able to maintain control of his passionate urges when presented with Elise, naked in his embrace, finally his alone to claim?

  Then, as though he had the ability to read another’s thoughts, Giles added, “You might want to seek relief before you approach your lady’s bed this evening.” Giles did not meet his gaze, but looked instead at those below.

  In spite of having not visited the fair Alianor’s bed since Elise’s arrival two months ago, somehow the thought of seeking another did not sit right on him, so Simon shrugged in reply.

  Giles reached out and smacked him heartily on his back. “Begin mayhap by settling her to your nearness and your touch? Surely you have kissed her? Touched her, even? Pray tell me that you have managed at least that, in spite of her mother’s constant presence and ever-watchful eye.”

  Simon laughed aloud at that. “Her lady mother would do well as a jailer in Duke Conan’s prison tower. Nothing, I fear, gets past her steely gaze or biting tongue.”

  Giles laughed too and shook his head. “Now that she is yours, you must begin to claim her. Step-by-step, my lord, much as you train your horses.”

  Simon barely controlled his laugh at that one. Giles and the others, with their illegitimate status, had little need to use finesse and little opportunity to approach virginal ladies. Most wellborn ladies did not welcome their interest.

  “My friend, I would advise you never to let any woman, especially a lady, hear you compare her to a horse. You will find yourself without the warm welcome you so crave before you can blink your eyes.” Simon turned to the stairs and nodded. “Come. I think it is time to begin gentling my wife to my touch.”

  “Fear not, Simon. All will be well by morning. The lady truly wedded-and-bedded and you will be at ease.” Giles’s expression grew serious. “But just in case your way is not successful, I will place a book of poetry by your bed so that you can use it if needed. ’Twould seem that ladies do like the soft words and pledges of love.”

  Simon did smile then at his friend’s attempt to take his fears seriously. Agreeing with a nod, he made his way down the stone steps to seek out his wife. He had hours of feasting before nightfall and he was eager to begin wooing his wife.

  Chapter 2

  Lady Elise of Nantes watched as her husband and his friend left the rim of the balcony above and walked towards the stairway that led back to the main floor. The castle was appointed with several floors, bright and beautiful tapestries lining the walls around them, and a hall that could seat hundreds without crowding. All Simon’s possessions were grand, as befitted the very wealthy and powerful count of Rennes.

  All except her.

  Elise smoothed some imagined wrinkle from her gown and considered her good fortune yet again. Even without her mother’s urgings, it was difficult not to do so when faced with Simon’s beneficence. In simple words, she owed him everything.

  Her cousin leaned over and handed her a cup of wine and Elise took a small sip. Her mother’s mouth formed a tight line; Elise knew immediately that she disapproved. After seeing Simon’s warm gaze on her, she pulled some remnants of pride and bravery together and emptied the last of the wine into her mouth. If it burned a bit and hit her stomach with a thump, she would never say.

  “You will disgrace us, Elise, if you fall asleep or lose your composure in your marriage bed,” her mother whispered in a furious tone. “Cease drinking this instant.”

  Elise nearly dropped the cup at her mother’s order, but she did not. She was married now, married to Simon, Count of Rennes, and answered to no one else. Not her mother and certainly not her foolish father who’d endangered them all. Simon alone ruled her now. A shudder passed through her at the thought of what lay ahead of her this night and of the power one man now held over her.

  “My lady, surely a small cup of wine will but soothe her maidenly nerves,” her cousin Petronilla offered. Her mother’s frozen gaze made Petronilla cease her attempt to intercede.

  “There is no reason for nerves or hesitation, you silly girl. My daughter knows her place and her duty to the count, in his bed or out of it.” Lady Bertrade then lowered her voice so that only Elise could hear her words. “When you lie beneath him, fight naught that he does and acquiesce in all things. Let him have his way.”

  “Come, cousin,” Elise said as she stood. If she had to listen to one more of her mother’s audacious commands about the approaching night in her marriage bed, she was sure she would scream. “I need some cool air to refresh me.”

  Elise turned to leave, a brazen move on her part, but her mother grabbed her arm and pulled her close.

  “Remember, you will give him leave to do whatever he wishes with you. Refuse him nothing,” she whispered furiously.

  “I have heard your words, Mother. I understand,” she whispered back as she tugged her arm free. As bold as she may have sounded, the truth was that she knew not what to expect from her new husband.

  Her mother had issued those words of warning for months; as soon as the marriage contracts had been signed, she had begun her instructions to prepare Elise for marriage. All were the same and excluded details of what she should lie still through or what he would do that she must allow. Elise understood the basic process of marital relations with a man, but her mother’s words clearly hinted at things more dangerous or repulsive.

  Standing back, she took Petronilla’s hand, pulling her cousin to escape with her. She nearly ran as she sidestepped couples who were dancing and those just lounging around the hall, drinking and eating and celebrating her marriage to Lord Simon. Finally, they made their way out of the hall, through the corridors to the door that led to the courtyard. The air, fresh and cool as befitted a spring morning, greeted her as she stepped out of the door.

  “She means well,” Elise began to explain to her cousin, but the frown on Petronilla’s face stopped her from apologizing for her mother’s behavior again.

  “Lord Simon will not allow her to command you so, now that you are married,” Petronilla declared forthrightly.

  Elise nodded, not fully convinced that a simple marriage ceremony would bring her mother’s controlling ways to an end. But, if being Simon’s wife meant she would make her own decisions, she welcomed whatever must happen between them as a small price to pay.

  Petronilla took her hand and patted it. “Lord Simon will be a kind husband to you, Elise. Alianor said…” Her cousin paused, realizing her error and looked across the co
urtyard waiting for the awkward moment to end. “I cannot believe I said that to you, and on your wedding day. Pray thee, forgive me?”

  At first mortified that her cousin mentioned her husband’s leman, Elise then realized that she, Lady Alianor, was the one person who could answer her questions about what to expect in her marriage bed. Certainly she could not speak to the woman who, in spite of being the noble-born widow of one of Simon’s vassals, saw to her husband’s private needs. She needed someone else…someone like Petronilla.

  “There is no reason to apologize, Petronilla. My lord husband’s attentions to the lady are not a secret here.”

  “Still, Elise, ’twas thoughtless of me to bring her to your attention.”

  Elise turned and took her cousin’s hand, tugging her closer. Looking around first, to make certain that no one could overhear her words, she said, “To gain my pardon, I seek a small service from you.”

  “What service, Elise?” Petronilla asked, her hesitancy obvious.

  “I wish you to speak of what Lady Alianor has told you about my husband.”

  Petronilla’s otherwise pale face blushed deep red as she sputtered and gasped at the request. So, Lady Alianor had shared many details with her sister-by-marriage about Lord Simon. Good. Mayhap Elise would learn much before being faced with the reality of her husband in their bed?

  “Nay, Elise! Alianor has told me nothing, truly, nothing.”

  “Petronilla, you are my friend. Would you send me forth to my husband’s bed knowing only what my mother has told me? That I should lie quietly and accept anything he does. That I must refuse him nothing. Not knowing what he will do to me is worse than any suffering I have faced.”

  “Still, Elise. You are a maiden. He expects you to know little of bedplay. He is a kind man…”

  Elise dropped her cousin’s hand and walked away. Failure to please Simon was not an option for her this night. She must be ready to be his wife, to keep him happy, so that he would never regret, or question for a moment, his decision to stand by their betrothal and marriage. How could she do that without knowing?

  And more than for those reasons, Elise had begun to fall in love with the kind man she met on her arrival. Every preparation for her comfort had been seen to and every request was fulfilled. He greeted her brother and assigned him to duties and training, taking over the responsibilities her father should have accepted. But mostly, although he appeared to be a large, gruff man, he was ever kind to her and solicitous of her feelings when they ate together or conversed. He tried to make her feel as though she was already the lady of his lands and, when he could circumvent her mother’s oversight, he’d even quietly offered his affections to her.

  She stopped by a stone wall that separated the main yard from the chapel, and took a breath. Petronilla joined her there and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “You are the only one who can help me, Petra,” she said. “I know he cares for Alianor and that he is happy when he is with her. If I know what he likes, what pleases him, I can make certain to keep him happy.” She met her cousin’s gaze. “I must give him no reason to turn from our marriage. Too much and too many are at risk.”

  Although the Church sought to gain control over marriages and thereby control more of the wealth and power of the nobles and royalty of the lands, many nobles married as they pleased, some taking concubine wives in addition to the wives the Church recognized. If she was unsuccessful in pleasing Simon or providing him with sons and heirs and if he then sought relief from his vows, her family would not only be in disgrace, but would be destitute and destroyed.

  She thought Petra was not going to answer her, then her cousin began to speak. The words poured out quickly, but never did the two women look at each other.

  “Alianor said Lord Simon likes lusty, passionate women who…who…who are neither sheepish nor quiet during their bouts of bedplay.”

  Elise lost her breath at such a description. Even trying to sort out the possible meanings made her heart pound and heat rise in her cheeks.

  Petra’s words seemed to confirm the things she’d overheard some of the female servants shamelessly discussing after Lady Alianor had walked by them a few days ago. But Elise could not believe such things actually happened between a man and his wife. Yet Petra was not done.

  “He likes women who…who…who use their hands…and their…their mouths on him and his…privy parts.” Petra still did not meet her eyes.

  “Oh!” Elise whispered as she put her hands on her fiery cheeks to cool them. Did women do such things? She was more confused now than before she’d gained the information about her husband’s preferences from Petronilla. Hands? Mouth? Privy parts? Just as the servants had gossiped? Surely not!

  Even though such thoughts shocked Elise, a frisson of some unrecognized heat pierced through her. Such scandalous things spoke of passion and lust, something forbidden and yet somehow alluring to her, even in her innocence. An ache began deep within her.

  “Do you remember catching your brother with the laundry maid in the stables, Elise?” Petra reached for her hands and tried to tug them free. “Elise? Do you remember what we heard them saying? What he asked her to do? It must be that!”

  “Nay!”

  She was not completely ignorant in the way in which a man and a woman joined, for many times coupling occurred in places more public than private within this keep and even at her family’s. But coupling and this…shocking revelation…were simply too different to be considered. Why would a man want such a thing? Did Lord Simon truly expect it of her? Shaking her head at the images that now crept into her thoughts, she dropped her hands away from her face.

  Unable to even believe such a thing between a man and his wife, she waved Petra away and walked towards the door. Now, more than at any time since her betrothal had been announced, she needed some wine to calm her nerves. She only hoped she could find some without having to face her mother first.

  Or Lord Simon.

  Elise heard Petra’s steps close behind her and she continued down the corridor towards the noisy festivities where she could forget what awaited her in the night. Turning the corner, she must have taken a wrong step, for she walked into a wall. Or what felt like a wall. Just as Petra ran into the back of her, Elise looked up into Lord Simon’s smiling face.

  Chapter 3

  Simon took Elise by the shoulders to steady her after she collided with him. Gazing past her petite figure, he recognized her cousin behind her, who offered a quick curtsy before walking on to the hall. Though tempted to let her go once she steadied on her feet, he remembered his plan and kept her in his grasp, gently drawing her into a nearby alcove.

  “Are you well, lady? Your face is flushed and you seem out of breath.”

  Her cheeks, usually a lovely cream color, were splotched with red circles and her chest—he dared another quick glance, trying not to notice the voluptuous curves so close to his hands—was heaving as though she’d run a far distance. Simon reached up, touched her cheek with the back of his finger and found it heated. He could not resist sliding his hand along her shoulders and lifting the length of her dark hair away from her face, sending some of the flowers woven into it drifting to the floor.

  “I am well, my lord,” she said, without ever meeting his gaze. “’Twas colder outside than I thought and I carried no cloak with me.”

  He took her words as a sign to try his gentler method. Stepping closer, he slid his arms the rest of the way around her and held her against his chest.

  “Warmer now, my lady?” he asked.

  Elise stood still in his embrace, not moving her head or body as he rubbed her back, trying to infuse his heat into her, to warm her from the cold. Simon felt her shiver, so he continued rubbing gently until she stopped. The enticing scent of the flowers, early spring blossoms, woven through her hair wafted up, and he inhaled deeply. He loosened his grasp enough to bring one hand up to her face, tilting it higher so he could see her. Then, he leaned towards her and pressed
his lips to hers.

  Elise accepted his mouth on hers, standing in perfect acquiescence within his arms—not moving, not seeming to breathe, and neither resisting nor furthering his kiss. Simon moved his mouth over hers, sliding back and forth across her softness, trying to ease her under his touch. But when he lifted his head and met her wide-open eyes, the expression he found there was one not unlike that of a wild animal when caught in the sights of an experienced hunter’s nocked arrow. Fear, for certain, and a full measure of what appeared to be shock filled her gaze.

  Simon knew that he was overwhelming her. His body stood nearly a full foot taller than hers, and his bulk matched his height. Wrapping her in his large arms as he had must have scared the breath out of her, indeed, for she still had not taken one in. Releasing her, he tried to come up with soothing words of explanation, but was forestalled by her mother’s call.

  “Elise!” Lady Bertrade called down the very corridor where he stood next to his very bemused wife. “Oh, Lord Simon, here you are! I could not find Elise and worried at her whereabouts when she should be seeing to your guests.”

  The lady’s briefly bowed head and lowering of tone did nothing to soften her shrill demand, and Simon felt Elise tense next to him.

  “I called Elise to my side, Lady Bertrade,” he said, taking Elise’s trembling hand in his. “I sought but a few moments of privacy with her. Surely my guests would forgive a groom’s eagerness to better acquaint himself with his newly wed wife?” For good measure, Simon lifted Elise’s hand to his mouth and kissed along her knuckles.

  With a look of extreme satisfaction, Lady Bertrade nodded. “I will leave you to her, then, my lord.”

  It was not until her mother was out of hearing distance that Elise spoke, for her mother’s temper might be controlled when Lord Simon was present, but would be unleashed once they were alone. “Pray thee accept my thanks for that, my lord.”