Me, the husband she never wanted. Perhaps the greatest threat of all. He glanced at the lifeless chessboard on the side table as awareness dawned. “Hence our spiritual marriage.”
“Aye. If you thought me devout, you’d keep your distance. That was the plan, at any rate.”
“And it worked.”
Sorrow shadowed her features. “And now you despise me.”
He blinked. “What?”
“You’ll never see me the same way again. I’ll always be tainted, impure. The lady you could’ve admired if only—”
“Now, hold on. You talk about my imagination, but yours is just as fertile. I do admire you. To me, you are the essence of goodness.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. “I was once.”
Gently, he gripped her shoulders. “You are still, and I’m not the only one who sees it. Godwin stands in awe of you. What you did for Nelda and her girls today…your ministering to the poor in Preostbi…your kindness toward the servants…” Your likeness in that long-ago dream, inspiring hope when I needed it most.
She blinked, and tears streamed down her cheeks. “But is it enough?”
He frowned. “Enough?”
“To justify my existence…and your esteem.”
“You must never doubt it.” He cradled her face with his hands. “I feel I finally know you. At least, more than I ever have.”
She smiled through her tears. “I want to be known.”
“Do you?”
She nodded. “In every way.”
He dropped his hands to his sides. “When you say ‘every’…”
“I want our marriage to be more than spiritual.”
His pulse quickened. Could it be? “You mean physical?”
Color flowed into her cheeks. “Aye. But not tonight. I still need time to adjust. Please be patient.”
He stared into the depths of her amber eyes, and his heart swelled. “I’ll be anything you want, Constance. Whatever you need, I shall give.”
Chapter Ten
They retired to the bedchamber and peeled off layers of clothing until all that remained was her chemise and his breeches. Constance willed her gaze from Robert’s torso to his eyes as he approached.
He halted an arm’s length away. “Thank you for your honesty…and your trust.”
She grinned. “Thank you for marrying me.”
His dimples appeared. “My pleasure.”
Pleasure. The word hung in the air between them like a watchful, seductive spirit.
She held her breath. What is he thinking? Will he kiss me?
He hesitated, then stepped forward and leaned closer. His lips connected with her forehead in a soft, lingering kiss.
His nearness was at once a balm and a temptation. But I’m not ready!
“Good night, Constance.” His breath was hot on her flesh.
She found her voice. “Good night.”
He pulled away and strode toward the bed.
My dear Robert, you are patience incarnate. She hastened toward her side of the bed and sighed as the feather mattress embraced her weary frame. ’Twas a glorious thing to lie down with a clear conscience. Finally! Within minutes, she slipped into sleep.
For the next week, their bedtime ritual followed a similar pattern. He kissed her forehead and said good night. Sometimes they talked in bed about the day’s activity; sometimes not. For the most part, she was content. But she couldn’t help comparing their situation to the fervid affair between Alice and Guy. The squire made nightly visits to the handmaiden’s chamber while Meg busied herself elsewhere.
The comfort of friendship versus the passion of love. The latter appealed to Constance, more with each passing day.
At week’s end, shortly before supper, she stood alone on the bridge above Woden’s Pond. A swan glided across the calm water, creating symmetrical ripples that stretched beyond the bird’s wake.
With head tilted, Constance followed its progress. Our actions influence everything around us, just as the swan affects the pond.
Her revelation about Dominy certainly changed Robert. He showed even more courtesy than before, treating her almost like a harp with worn strings which might snap if played. She wanted to make music. At least, she wanted to try. But his gallantry seemed to know no bounds.
She frowned and wiped the sweat from her brow. Why should that bother me? Her lips twisted. Because I fear he’s lost interest.
Had he? Could any man truly possess such restraint? He demonstrated it at every bedtime. Every single one. What if it continued? For weeks. Months. Forever and ever, amen.
A sudden chill commanded the air. Shivering, she rubbed her arms, then felt compelled to look down.
The undulating water warped her reflection. Might it also bend reality and grant her another vision? Nothing like that had ever happened to her, not until the day of the help-ale. And though it seemed strange, her heart insisted an experience so profound must derive from the mind of God, that source of all creation to which she’d always gravitated.
She knelt for a closer view and waited. As she stared, a new picture emerged.
The pond at dusk, enshrouded in fog. Robert, standing naked before her with his proud, stiff manhood. He opened his mouth to speak. “Come to me, Constance.”
Whoop-whoop!
The sound jarred her out of the vision. A swan looked up at her. She glanced at the opposite side of the pond, where the original swan remained, then regarded the bird below her.
“Why are you here with me? Look. There’s another swan right over there.”
Again, the bird whooped. Then it swam off and out of sight. The air was mild once more.
Or perhaps the vision warmed me. Her stomach twitched at the memory of it. How many men could boast a body such as her husband’s? Not many, surely. And he was hers. If she had the courage to claim him.
And if he still desired her.
There’s one way to find out. She stood, wiped the dirt from her tunic, and headed toward the castle.
After supping on roasted venison and frumenty, she and Robert retired to the solar with a jug of mulled wine. She leaned back in her chair as he poured their drinks.
He handed her a cup. “You were quiet as a mole during supper.”
She took a long draft of wine. The mixture of cinnamon, ginger, and cloves tickled her tongue. “I was thinking.”
“About?” He raised his cup to his lips.
“Lovemaking.”
He choked on his drink. After a fit of coughing, he cleared his throat. “Lovemaking.”
“Aye. You gave me a general idea before, but I want specifics.”
“Oh, I think I gave you one or two of those.”
She sipped her wine, then placed the cup on the table. “Remind me, if you would.”
He shifted in his seat. “I told you where I’d put my mouth.”
“I recall it now. You said every inch of my body, even…” Heat flowed into her sex. “But you exaggerate. Kissing every inch would take all night. There must be areas you would focus on. Mayhap my breasts. But with your mouth engaged, where would your hands—”
“Constance, what are you about? Is this mere curiosity or something more?”
Her cheeks burned. “Perhaps both.”
He sipped his wine, but his gray eyes smoldered above the rim of the cup.
She sat up straight. “Now, tell me about your…alicorn.”
With a chuckle, he set his cup beside hers on the table. Then he rubbed his mouth. “What about it?”
“I assume you’d put it here.” She motioned to her crotch. “How many times would you enter? Once? Twice?”
“More than that.”
“How many more?”
“It depends.” Again, he shifted in his chair.
“On what?”
“Many things. Your satisfaction. My self-control.” He shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t see the point—”
“Would it hurt?”
His gaze locked onto hers.
“It might at first. If you weren’t properly aroused.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Odd. I would never have thought to use the terms ‘proper’ and ‘aroused’ in the same sentence.”
“And I would never have thought we’d have this conversation.”
“What difference would my arousal make?”
He looked toward the ceiling, then rubbed his palms on his thighs as he again met her gaze. “Your channel would be wet, so I could slip in easier and…argh! Constance, you know I have a rich imagination.” For the third time, he changed his position on the chair.
“I do. What of it?”
He tempered his pained expression with a closed-mouth smile. “All this talk is driving my desire through the roof.”
Her gaze dropped to his lap. What was happening beneath that blue tunic? “Driving your horn thither too, I would imagine.”
He chortled. “Not through the roof! No man is that endowed. But aye, you guessed right.”
“Now I see why you cannot sit still.”
“Actually, you don’t see it, thanks to my clothes.”
Her pulse quickened. “But I want to.”
He stared into her eyes for the space of a heartbeat. Then he bolted up and out of the chair. “No need to ask me twice! To the bedchamber.”
Her stomach quivered, but she scolded herself. This is what you wanted, right? So get up. She stood and trod beside him toward the gaping chamber door.
His hand warmed the small of her back as he urged her in front of him. “After you.”
On the threshold, she paused and faced him. His intense gaze summoned heat to her cheeks and forehead. “Your desire…is it for me or just any woman?”
“Only for you, Constance.”
“So you still find me attractive.”
He gave her a puzzled look. “How could you doubt it?”
“All week long, you’ve given me space and respect. While I am grateful, it made me wonder. Every night, you kissed me on the forehead, almost like a brother.”
“A brother!” He rolled his eyes. “You have no idea how I’ve struggled and held back in your presence. I burn for you.”
For the first time in her life, she felt a sense of power, but ’twas laced with tenderness of heart. “I’m glad to hear it. Thank you, Robert.”
He grinned. “You can thank me by walking through the door.”
“Oh. Aye.”
She spun around and hastened to the table in the bedchamber. Behind her, the door thudded shut. Her heart pounded, but she refused to let it steal her focus from the task at hand. Her shoes and stockings were the first to go. Then one by one, she removed her headdress, tunics, and chemise and laid them on the table.
She took a deep breath and turned. Robert stood naked beside the bed. His clothes littered the floor. Sure enough, his manhood looked as swollen as it had in her vision, and on the night they shared a bath.
His eyes worshipped her. “Why such haste?”
“I didn’t want to lose my nerve. Now ’tis done.”
Slowly, he closed the gap between them. “No. It has only begun.”
****
Robert’s manhood throbbed. He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and carry her to the bed, but caution was key. “Are you sure about this?”
Her plump lower lip trembled. “I-I’m a little scared.”
“Don’t be. You can stop me at any time, and I’ll keep you apprised of my every move.”
She nodded. “All right. I trust you.”
Never had a woman tugged so at his heart. Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead. “Just a kiss,” he said against her skin. “The same as any other night, but this time, we’ll add more.” He kissed her right cheek, then her left. “And now your mouth.”
Her lips were soft as rose petals. He brushed them with his so lightly she’d feel only a whisper of flesh. “I’m going to pull you closer, and I want you to open your mouth.”
“Why?”
“I would taste you.”
Her bare back was smooth and cool beneath his palms. She opened her mouth, and he slipped his tongue inside.
Spiced wine. Sweet breath. A timid tongue, which grew bolder by the second as his tongue schooled it.
The give and take of their kiss was everything he’d imagined. For his mind had conjured this moment hundreds of times before.
He withdrew his tongue, and she murmured in protest. He chuckled. “Hold on, my sweet. I would kiss more of you.”
He lowered his mouth to her left ear, and his teeth grazed the earlobe. She shivered. He glanced at her breasts; small but beautifully shaped, their pink tips stirred to life. He ached to address them. Not yet. One step at a time.
With deliberation, he kissed the length of her neck, her left collarbone and shoulder. “May I bite you?”
“My shoulder?”
He tasted salt. “Aye.”
“Will you bite hard?”
“Only if you want me to.”
“N-no. Soft seems better.”
With restraint, he dug his teeth into her shoulder. “Thank you, my dear. I couldn’t resist.” He moved to her breastbone and kissed the top. Then his tongue traced the hollow between her breasts. “Can you guess what I shall touch next?”
She cleared her throat. “My breasts?”
“Correct.” He cupped them with his hands, and his thumbs teased the nipples with light, measured strokes. Her chest moved up and down, faster than before. “You like that?”
“I do.”
“Then perhaps you’ll allow my mouth the same honor.”
Gently, he squeezed her left breast and kissed it. His tongue circled the nipple, then moved back and forth over the hard pap.
Again, she cleared her throat. “I…”
“Aye?”
“Never mind.”
He grinned, then sucked on the taut nipple.
She gasped.
He kept on, all the while tweaking her right nipple between his forefinger and thumb. After a short while, he moved to her right breast and lavished on it the same attention he’d shown the left. Soon both paps pointed straight ahead.
He slid his hands to her hips and knelt before her. “Now your belly.” He ran his hands over her silken skin and settled them on her hips. Kneeling before her, he kissed her navel and flicked it with his tongue.
“Oh!”
“Ticklish?”
“A little.”
Again, he dipped his tongue inside, then wiggled it back and forth. Her laughter chimed like sweet music.
He smiled up at her. “I do love the sound of your laughter.” His gaze returned to her torso. “And I love this little mole beneath your ribs…and the curve of your hips…and the lovely, soft pouch of your belly beneath the navel.” He leaned forward to kiss it, and her feminine scent filled his nostrils.
If there is such a place as Heaven, ’tis right there. He licked his lips. His bulging member twitched, eager to find a home within her. His heart beat faster as he slid his hands from her hips to the ample flesh of her bottom.
“Robert?”
“Aye?”
“You were right about my arousal.”
He swallowed hard. “Right?”
“I do feel wet.”
He groaned inwardly and squeezed her buttocks. ’Twas all he could do not to bury his face between her thighs. “May I feel it, too?”
“With what?”
“Well…for a start, my hand.”
Silence.
He looked up at her. She bit her lip and stared straight ahead. Releasing her bottom, he sprang to his feet. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t know if…”
“If you can let me touch you there?”
Avoiding his gaze, she nodded. “’Tis only that…”
Damn that boiled cow’s udder of an archdeacon! “I understand. Look into my eyes.”
Her golden gaze claimed him. Her eyes were wide, shadowed by dread.
“Constance, the last thing I would
ever want to do is harm you.”
She blinked. “I know.”
“Do you? In sooth?”
She nodded. “I see it in your eyes.”
His heart twisted. She trusted him, despite her lurking fears. He stroked her left cheek. “Then keep looking into them, and we’ll do this together.” Holding her gaze, he slowly ran his hand downward. Over her jaw. Her neck. Her chest and belly. All the way down to the honeyed bush that caressed his fingers.
She squeezed her eyes shut and lurched backward, out of his reach. “Forgive me! I cannot!”
Her anguish hit him like a blow to the gut. “Dearheart…”
She shook her head as if to clear it. “When you touched me there, all I could see was Dominy, leering at me.” With clenched fists, she stamped her foot. “Ugh! I know you and he are different men, but…”
“I understand. Perchance I moved too fast.”
“No, Robert. You were wonderful…are wonderful.” She crossed to the table, grabbed her chemise, and pulled it over her head.
Slowly, a smile unfurled across his face. I’m wonderful. Good to know. “You needn’t hide your body from me.”
She reached for her inner tunic and wriggled into it. “I’m not hiding. I’m dressing.” She seized her overtunic.
“Why?” Her red clothing seemed a symbol of the buried passion he’d begun to unearth.
“I’m too…aroused to sleep.”
He gave her a rueful grin. “My fault, I’m afraid.”
She pulled on her stockings. “Not a fault, exactly. More like a talent.”
“You’re full of compliments tonight.”
“I am, aren’t I?” She slipped on her low, leather boots. “Mayhap I would atone for stirring you up, then leaving you out in the cold.”
No. I’ll not let guilt take hold of you, not when we’re this close to a real marriage. “’Tis hard to feel cold on so warm a night. And your reaction was natural under the circumstances. Above reproach. Tell me, whither will you go?”
“To the solar.”
“In your boots?”
She shrugged. “You know how late the sun is setting now. Perhaps I’ll take a turn about the bailey.”
“Do you want company?”
She shook her head. “Thank you, but no. I would clear my head, and ’tis best done alone. Please don’t take it as a slight.”
“I won’t, so long as you don’t take my sleeping nude as an attempt to pressure you.”
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