Their gazes locked. For one eternal moment, she thought her heart had stopped beating. Then he threw back his head, and released a deep, rolling laughter.
“You truly do not know who sent you this, and the ones before it?” he asked when he finally could speak.
Something clicked in her mind. “Methought ‘twas Andrew,” she answered slowly. “Audrey told me that he can counterfeit your writing quite well.”
Again his rich laughter filled the chamber. “That popinjay? He flees from books and pens as if they would infect him with the plague, instead of learning.”
Alicia drew closer to her husband. “‘Tis your letter?” The shock of the truth hit her with the force of a pitcher of cold water dashed into her face. “You wrote all those beautiful things to me?”
Thomas jutted out his chin with a hint of injured pride. “Of course. If anyone else had dared to write to you in this intimate manner, I would have boiled him in oil, and poured him down one of the murder holes.”
Alicia traced her finger across his cheekbone. “That is what I thought. And why I…I destroyed them.” Now she mourned their loss.
He drew her to him. “But you did read them first, I hope.” Despite his cheerful expression, she sensed his vulnerability.
Sitting on his knee, she put her arm around his neck. She massaged his tense knot of muscles. “Aye, I. could not resist their poetry.” She planted a light kiss on his nose. “Truly, Thomas, you are most amazing. Why could you not just tell me that you loved me?”
His cheeks flamed. “I am a man of action, not speech,” he muttered.
She cocked her brow at him. “A man of action, you say? Then, if you love me, do something about it.”
His lips wobbled. “Now?”
“Aye,” she whispered, staring into his beautiful eyes. “This very minute.”
Without saying another word, Thomas swept her into his arms, and carried her out to the hall. He strode down the corridor with Georgie and Taverstock trotting at his heels. Her heart swelling with a mix of joy, anticipation and apprehension, Alicia twined her arms tighter around him. She buried her face in the warm place between his neck and broad shoulders. He smelled of horse, leather, wool and some indefinable musk that was all his own.
When they reached the royal suite, he pushed open the door with his foot. The dogs raced ahead of them, and jumped onto the richly appointed bed. Georgie settled himself in his accustomed spot at the foot, while Taverstock pawed at the pillows, seeking a way to get under the covers. With a quick kiss on her forehead, Thomas set Alicia on her feet. Then he hunkered down by the fireplace, and began to pile logs onto the grate.
She eyed the bed. Finally, it was going to happen—except for two little problems. “Thomas.” She spoke his name quietly so she would not alarm him.
Not looking at her, he grunted a reply.
She cleared her throat. “Thomas,” she said a little louder.
He turned from his work. “Aye, sweetheart?” He wore a silly grin on his face.
“Methinks there are a few too many of us in this chamber for a proper wedding night.” She smiled at him playfully, then gave a meaningful nod toward the bed.
Thomas followed her gaze. Georgie lifted his great head, and banged his whipcord tail against the coverlet. Tavie paused in his burrowing, and barked, as if inviting his master and new mistress to join him.
Thomas rubbed the side of his nose. “Aye, you have a point.” He rose, then snapped his fingers.
Puzzled but eager to do their master’s bidding, both dogs scrambled off the bed, and stood before him. Clasping his hands behind his back, he regarded the mastiff and the terrier. “Gentlemen,” he began, “there will be a new order in this household. Henceforth, that is to say, tonight…” He coughed. His neck reddened. He pointed to the door. “Go find Mary. See Andrew! Look for Stokes!”
Tavie held up one paw, sneezed, then dashed into the corridor. Georgie looked up at his master, then to Alicia. He crossed the floor with all of his ancient dignity. Thomas closed the door softly behind them. Almost as an afterthought, he bolted it. Then he looked at his wife.
She saw the heartrending tenderness in his eyes. “Thank you, Thomas,” she whispered.
His face flushed crimson. He stared at his boots, then back to his half-laid fire. “Got to finish that,” he mumbled.
He is nervous. Good! So am I. Aloud she asked, “Shall I prepare for bed, Thomas?”
He opened his mouth, but no words came out Instead, he nodded, then turned his back to her. He made a great deal of bustling noise while he built up a bonfire in the fireplace.
Hiding her smile, Alicia pulled back the covers, and smoothed the bottom sheet. She kicked off her shoes, and peeled down her torn stockings. Thomas did not move from his position. She untied her laces, and allowed the mud-stained gown and petticoats to billow to her feet, leaving her only in her light shift. She kicked her tattered garments aside. She glanced at her handsome husband over her shoulder. He still hunched in front of his now-roaring fire. His head hung low between his shoulders.
Alicia hummed a lullaby under her breath as she brushed out the tangles of the past twenty-four hours from her hair. In her mirror, she spied him casting swift glances at her. She tried to assess his expression. While she studied him anew in her looking glass, her body ached for his touch. She replaced her brush on the dressing table.
She crossed behind him, and sat down on the edge of the wide, yawning bed. The ropes that held the mattress in place groaned under her weight. Thomas’s shoulders stiffened at the sound. Folding her hands in her lap, Alicia waited for him to turn around. He did not move.
We will never get anywhere at this rate.
“Thomas,” she called in a gentle voice. When he looked over his shoulder at her, she patted the mattress beside her. “I am ready for you.” She held her breath. This prolonged anticipation was almost unbearable.
With a deep, soul-stirring sigh, he stood, then turned to face her. His short hunting jerkin could not conceal the outward manifestation of his growing interest Alicia saw the full measure of his aroused desire. Her heart danced with excitement She moistened her lips with her tongue. Thomas’s eyes widened. He swallowed with a gulp.
He cleared his throat. “This is the first…that is…Mayhap you think…I mean…I…I…”
“Is something wrong, Thomas?” Alicia asked with growing misgivings.
“I have never lain with a woman before now,” he blurted out His voice echoed around the chamber.
Alicia bit her lower lip to hide her surprise. She saw how embarrassed he was. “Then we are alike,” she answered with a shy smile. “For I have never lain with a man—until now.”
Looking a little more relieved, he came closer to her. “I assure you, I know what I am supposed to do, and I swear upon my soul that I am more than willing to do it.” Perspiration glistened on his forehead.
She found his proximity almost overwhelming, but she resisted the urge to reach out and grab him. “And I am more than willing to learn, sweet Thomas.”
He clasped his hands as if she was a holy statue in a cathedral, and he was a pilgrim supplicating her intercession to heaven. “Your patience, I pray you, my love. I know that I cannot just leap at you like Georgie does with one of the yard dogs.”
She gave him an encouraging smile. “I am glad to hear that you know the difference. I understand that some husbands do not.”
He bit his lip, then said, “I am mortally afraid that I will hurt you.”
The pent-up tension eased out of Alicia’s body. So that was the problem. “I have never been afraid of you, Thomas. I am not afraid now.” Not very much, anyway.
He came closer still. “Furthermore, I have not the slightest idea how to pleasure you!” he confessed in a rush. He flashed her a tender smile.
Alicia blessed Katherine for all her lessons in lovemaking. She stood up beside her husband, and took his hand in hers. His mere touch sent a shiver of longing through her.
She kissed his cold fingers. “Methinks that things will progress more quickly if you get undressed, my darling.”
He nodded, but did not move. After another kiss, this time on his chin, Alicia slid under the bedcovers. Thomas turned around, and fumbled with his laces, swearing under his breath at the stubborn knots. Meanwhile, she wriggled out of her shift, and stuffed it under one of the pillows. The cool sheets soothed her flushed skin.
Thomas hurled his jerkin across the chamber. It landed on top of the chest under the window, then it slipped to the floor. His shirt followed in quick order. He stretched his arms, causing the muscles in his back to ripple under his skin. Hopping about first on one foot then the other, he pulled off his riding boots, leaving him attired in only his black hose.
The glow of the firelight accentuated his quiet strength, and his golden body. Alicia’s pulse skittered. She barely breathed when he began to roll down his tights over his firm buttocks. At long last, he stood naked with his back to her.
Slowly Thomas turned around. She could not suppress an exclamation of admiration when she saw how very much he wanted her. Thrusting aside her apprehensions, she hungered for the fulfillment of his love. She allowed the bedcover to slip down to her waist, baring her breasts for him. His gaze burned her with his desire. In two swift strides, he crossed the distance between them. She pulled back the coverlet, and smoothed the place beside her.
“You will catch a chill if you stand in the night air like that for much longer, my love. Come to bed.”
She swallowed tightly as he eased himself down next to her on the sheet. His hard-muscled thigh brushed against her, sending a quiver of excitement through her.
She stroked his arm. “’Twill help if you relax, my darling.” Her lips trembled against his as she spoke.
Thomas groaned. “You ask too much of me, my princess. I am a man of honor, but I fear I am no monk.”
With a low growl, he took her in his arms, and molded her soft curves against the hard contours of his body. Clasping her against his heart, he gently rocked her back and forth. She reveled in the feel of his strong arms around her.
She moistened her lips and waited for the gift of his kiss. Lowering his head over her, he traced the soft fullness of her mouth with his tongue. As if she had been touched by lightning, her heart skipped a beat. She welcomed the message of his growing passion. Alicia’s mouth burned with his fire. The headiness of his musky scent overwhelmed her. She wove her fingers through his thick hair. His lips seared a burning path down to her shoulders. Shivers of delight followed in his wake.
He cupped one of her breasts, and fondled it His touch was gently tentative. Her nipples firmed shamelessly under his fingers. His tender massage sent currents of fire and ice whirling through her. She gripped handfuls of his hair, and moaned.
He paused his sweet torture. “Have I hurt you?” he whispered.
“Nay,” she gasped, “but if you stop now, you will kill me.” Her heartbeat hammered in her ears.
His lips recaptured hers, and became more demanding. His cool fingers brushed across her skin, and danced down her spine. As he drank deeply from her spring, his hands explored the hollows of her back. When he reached her rounded bottom, he pulled her hard against him. Arching her back, she silently pleaded to be consumed.
He slid his hands over her hips. With a featherlight caress, he explored her thighs—then moved up to her moist center.
Writhing under him, she forgot all her carefully memorized lessons in love, especially when he brushed his fingertip over her throbbing core. Shivers of delight coursed through her. Her passionate moans only encouraged him to seek newer delights.
He moved over her, then slowly lowered himself. Her hips rose to meet him as their legs intertwined. Flooding with desire for him, she welcomed him into her body.
They moved in exquisite harmony with one another. Together they found the tempo that bound them closer. Alicia’s heart beat with the pulse of Thomas’s rhythm. She buried her face against the corded muscles of his broad chest. He sang her name over and over in her ear. The flames of their newfound passion burned bright within them.
Thomas’s lovemaking swept over Alicia like a summer storm. His power thundered within her, while his hands sent lightning bolts darting through her. Her body vibrated with his liquid fire. She cried out for sweet release.
His ardor mounted to a fever pitch as he sent her to the highest peak. She gasped with sweet agony, then shattered into a million glowing stars. He roared in triumph, as his love flowed into her like warm honey. For one indescribable moment, she felt transported on a cloud of silver and gold, where she experienced the torrent of uncontrollable joy.
In the quiet aftermath, Thomas rolled to his side, then gathered her close against him. He sighed with pleasant exhaustion. Filled with an amazing feeling of completeness, she curled into the curve of his body, and laid her head on his shoulder.
He kissed her forehead with infinite tenderness. “I am sorry,” he murmured.
She trailed her finger down the center of his chest. “For what?”
“For hurting you.”
With a giddy sense of joy, she released her happiness with a ripple of laughter. “If that is your idea of hurting me, I cannot wait to discover your ideas of pleasure.”
He twined a tendril of her red-gold hair around his finger. “Give me some time, my love. I am not a stallion.” He stared at her for a long moment, as if he beheld a wondrous new creature in his bed. Then he said, “Roll over, Alicia.”
She blinked. “Why? Is something amiss?”
“I want to see the marks of your virtue.”
Hot embarrassment filled her. “Do you doubt that I was a virgin?” Insult stabbed her soul.
Chuckling, he erased the furrows in her brow with his thumb. “I never doubted you for an instant, my sweet, but I want to survey the damage I did to you.”
“‘Twas nothing, I assure you.”
In reply, he made a twirling motion with his finger. Seeing that he would not be denied, she did as he requested. Thomas hitched himself up on his elbow, and flipped back the coverlet. The crimson proof of Alicia’s virginity proclaimed itself boldly on the white linen sheet. She chewed on her lower lip.
He inspected the area closely. “Six…seven…ah, and a tiny one. Eight altogether.” He grinned his satisfaction.
She blew a lock of hair out of her face, and stared at the velvet bed curtains. “Eight what?” she finally asked.
He took her hand in his, and pressed a kiss upon her palm. “Eight spots of your blood.”
She snorted. “And I suppose you will order the trumpeters to blow eight blasts from the battlements, so that all the world will know how well you bedded me!” She pulled the covers up to her chin.
Leaning over her, he kissed her on each eyelid. “On the contrary, my love. I do not care to proclaim my virility, nor your former innocent state to anyone. ‘Tis no one’s business but ours.”
Alicia stared at him, trying to fathom the workings of his mind. “Then why—?”
He silenced her with a gentle kiss on her lips. She relaxed, and opened her mouth to receive him. It was a kiss for her perplexed soul to melt into.
“We shall ride to York in a week or so—when you have recovered from your last outing on a horse—and…er…other activities.” He gave her his appealing schoolboy grin. “And I shall order for you a necklace of gold chain links with eight rubies—one for each virtuous tear you shed for your love of me.”
Her eyes widened. “You do not have to do that. The fox pelts—”
Another one of his kisses stopped her protests. “But I want to.”
Alicia was too emotion-filled to speak. Tears shimmered in her eyes.
He drew her to him again. “I am glad to see that you approve of my plan. Sleep now, my darling, for methinks we shall romp in these pleasure fields again before morning.”
She hugged him. “Thomas Cavendish, I have completely underestimated you!”
>
He closed his eyes with a chuckle. “Most people do.”
Then he blew out the candle.
Epilogue
Wolf Hall
December 1499
The fire in the master bedroom crackled with a particularly cheerful note this fine December night, Thomas thought, as he stretched out his legs before its welcome warmth. How could a man possibly be happier?
From the kitchens below wafted the appetizing scent of roasting venison. Today had been the best day’s hunting he could ever remember. Perfect weather. Up at dawn. A promise of winter in the crisp air. And most excellent sport.
The noble buck had given Thomas and his men a good chase for most of the day. It didn’t matter. The way he had felt, he would have chased that animal all the way to Scotland if necessary. He had promised Alicia a stag, and, by God, he would get her one. Thankfully, the good Lord and the buck cooperated.
Closing his eyes, he pictured the eighteen-point rack of antlers hanging in the great hall, just below the beautiful new wolf’s head banner that Alicia had embroidered while she waited out her pregnancy.
He heard a small sound in the great bed behind him. He stood, and tiptoed over to the side where Alicia lay. Her beautiful hair, freshly brushed, fanned over the pillow in a cascade of gold. The firelight enhanced all her red Plantagenet highlights. She smiled up at him.
He kissed her forehead. “Methought you were sleeping. You have had a hard day’s work.”
Her smile widened. “I have been watching you for these past ten minutes, Thomas. I like to see my men at my fireside.”
She touched the little flannel-wrapped bundle that he held carefully in the crook of his arm. “Is he still asleep?”
The new father’s chest swelled with pride as he looked down at his newborn son. “Aye, his day’s labor has tired him out as well.”
With a sense of wonder at the tiny being he had helped to create, Thomas smoothed the little tuft of reddish gold hair on the babe’s head. Then he stroked his son’s downy cheek. The child sighed in his sleep, then opened one exquisitely formed hand. Thomas touched it with his thumb, and chuckled when the baby clamped his tiny fingers around it.
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