Lady Trent

by GinaRJ

  He took his seat at the head of the table, to the direct right of where Marcus sat. As usual, no matter the place, Marcus felt at perfect ease in the palace…at Jacob’s home. He had been made to feel that way for many years, even before the change in the man which to this day still perplexed him.

  It had truly been for the best. But he remembered the child, thought it a shame he could possibly now die childless because of a decision on Rachel’s part to keep her virtue. But it was obvious she cared about him, that she loved him, even, and was attracted to him. When in the same room with the two of them, one could feel it in the air, as if it could be cut thru with a knife.

  A servant entered and placed a plate and chalice before Jacob on the table. Percival yet stood there awaiting an answer on whatever he’d been rambling about. Jacob waved a hand at him as if to shoo him away. “We can discuss it later. Not now.”

  Percival started to say something else. Jacob raised a stern hand saying “Later” with a bit of a harsh tone. Shoulders slumped, Percival turned away and left the room. Jacob exhaled as if from pure exhaustion.

  “First thing in the morning,” he complained. “Doesn’t a man deserve at least an hour or so of peace this time of day?”

  He seemed perturbed all around, so Marcus could not help but ask, “Are you well?”

  “Yes, yes,” he quickly agreed and reached for a glass of wine as soon as it was set out before him. This wine was not the most potent kind, but had a far less influence than that offered at later hours in the day. This was offered as a choice during morning time meals. Marcus had chosen cider instead.

  “I am well. I just have, it seems, hundreds of things on my mind.”

  “And which of these did you want to speak to me about? I imagine it to be of importance since you requested my company at such an early hour.”

  “It is of great importance. It has to do with my wife.”

  “And is she well?” He found himself asking.

  “She is,” he agreed. And for the first time, he grinned. “I am very pleased, my friend.”

  Marcus felt a peculiar sinking in his stomach…very unsettling. It wasn’t quite right. For upon hearing him, images of them making love came to mind, and for the life of him he could not imagine why that disturbed him so.

  He did not know what to say to it, so he said nothing at all, and would have fallen into his own little world had Jacob not continued.

  “She has gained the approval of those in Orland, which pleases me very much. You recall the trouble I had in the past. Isabelle was the worst, horrible for the position although trained for it. She was not prepared at all. Matilda was so very backward. The people had little respect for her…the lack of ‘backbone’. She was not prepared either. But then Rachel, who has had no such training at all, has taken the position well. She has solved many of the problems facing the community, and I hear she is praised as a queen over a nation.”

  “I am hardly surprised,” Marcus told him, still thinking of that grin and that reaction, saying he was “very pleased”. Had they finally consummated their marriage? He was suddenly very glad the two of them never discussed such things. Why, he wondered, did this thought of them making love disturb him so much? He silently scolded himself, and not for the first time.

  “It seems as if she was meant to be here all along,” he told Jacob.

  “I will not argue that, my friend. Now, it seems the people of Orland have planned some sort of festivity in her honor. I considered going against traditional orders, thinking perhaps my presence would not take the attention of the people away from her if I were to attend. But that is the sole purpose of such a decree. It has been exercised amongst the gentry for decades. Unless necessary, a noble needn’t appear in the realm of his wife. So I have decided against it.”

  “Wisely so,” Marcus commented. “You would inevitably be esteemed above her. Not that you are not already, but the people would most likely become preoccupied with your presence above hers.”

  “I have not travelled there in many, many years, only after the death of Isabelle to restore some order. After then I became determined to put such affairs into the hands of other men…ones I trust, mind you; which would also be the case with the well-being of my wife. Now that I have ruled out any participation in the event, her safety during it has become of utmost concern. The festivities are scheduled to last two full days, which would place her there a total of three nights. The evening of the day she arrives, the evenings of the two days. She will return the fourth day.”

  “And you have approved of this.”

  “I see no reason to object…and neither does she. Only she wished me to go along. She did understand after I had explained, although she cannot see why such a place cannot be ruled by both lord and lady. I reminded her; the position was created so that the lady herself may prove an ability of her own to rule a people for variable causes. One, to build the character of her husband, and two, to prove she would be capable in the case she was placed in a position to make any decision in the husband’s stead.”

  Marcus simply heard him out, taking in his every word and wondering where he was going with it.

  “With all aside, I will not be at peace unless I know for sure she is safe. I would trust you with my life, which is what she has fast become. With your injuries fast healing, I thought it suitable to ask if you would be available in a week to come, and to go so far as to propose that you disengage from any prior engagements in order to see to it my wife safely arrives, safely resides, and safely returns home to me.”

  Marcus had taken a drink of cider, and lowered it just as Jacob had finished speaking. He stared at his cup for a moment and then at his friend. “I have no engagements,” he told him.

  “Then you will agree to escort Rachel to the manor.”

  “Have I ever declined you?” It was more a statement than a question. Jacob grinned at his words. He raised his chalice, swallowed its contents and stood. “Then it is settled. Now I can have peace of mind while she is away, knowing she is in the best hands of all.”

  ******

  These arrangements were not discussed with Rachel. Jacob did not want her to think he was fussing too much, or that he would worry himself into an illness. He did not want her to feel any guilt—only to rightfully enjoy the occasion.

  He kept very busy the next few days, those prior her trip. In truth, he was apprehensive. The thought of losing her was a horrible one. He was determined to keep her so long as he lived. He had lost two wives already. A third…how would he survive it? Not Rachel. It would not be so easy. He would afterward wish to die, himself.

  But he preferred she did not see this weakness in him, the weakness of worry, although she surely knew he had a weakness for her…only not the extent of it, he concluded. She hadn’t a clue. How he loved her.

  And how he longed to be with her.

  He could not get that image of her lying in his bed from his mind, snuggled against him, so warm and soft and perfect. He had awakened at one point and watched her sleep, fighting this incredible urge to arouse her from slumber with tender kisses and touches, to make love to her. How his insides burned to do so.

  The desire he now saw in her eyes from time to time did not make matters any easier. She was fighting it, he knew, and he would not become guilty of persuading her, of having her lose her virtue, lose her trust in him, and regret having ever met him at all.

  But he was strong enough to withstand. He knew when to lengthen the distance between them and when to shorten it again.

  The evening before she was to depart so happened to be the evening of the celebration in his and Marcus’s honor—a celebration of their birthdays which fell on the same day.

  This had been planned for specifically by Percival who was accustomed to making the arrangements. He and Marcus had been celebrating their birthdays together on and off for many years. It was not a festivity for the attendance of nobles but of the richest of the Great City who were chosen and invited
, and who certainly accepted.

  The Great Hall was rearranged and decorated. Two tables were prepared, one for each of them, and each comfortably sitting fifty guests. Marcus and Jacob would sit across from one another at the head of their own table. The room was so large there was plenty of space for entertainers and dancing.

  Rachel had a place of her own with her handmaidens and others of the palace staff as well whom although she had not gotten exceptionally acquainted with she was familiar with. She approved of them and they of her…well, except the two: Roselyn and Holly. Holly seemed to downright despise her. Rachel shared the sentiments.

  This night she sat from a distance with her maidens and these others whom were also offered drinks. It was an occasion for them all to celebrate. Firstly, that Jacob was now fifty years of age, secondly, that Marcus had turned thirty-five. So they all ate, drank and were entertained. It reminded her of her second day in the Great City when she had given Jacob her answer, rather he had seen it in her eyes. But fate had brought her back…or perhaps a prayer, the hope in his heart.

  Rachel was careful not to drink too much. She had learned the ways of intoxication, that wine in excess could intensify a feeling whether good or bad. Not that desiring her husband was a bad thing. She only kept in mind the possibility that he would die. He would die and she would be left to continue on with her life; He was convinced in a couple of years. She could go back to her calling. Surely the people would believe her, that she had remained virtuous even through her marriage.

  If she said it was so the citizens of Westerly would certainly believe her. They trusted her word as if it were their own. She only wondered what their reaction would be to her message. It would arrive soon, quicker than the two weeks it’d taken her to travel the distance. The messengers did so on horseback and with less sleep, which made it a much quicker journey. Of course by then the letter could merely serve as confirmation to what they may have by then already heard—that she had married. She hoped and prayed for a speedy and kind response.

  Music was playing and several damsels came out to dance, all in perfect harmony. They were dressed rather provocatively and danced just the same. It appeared as if they were purposely enticing the two men. One of the maidens slipped s silk scarf from her shoulders and draped it around Jacob’s neck. This actually disturbed Rachel. The maidens nearest her may have witnessed the evil look that suddenly hardened her eyes. It happened so fast. But she hid it just as quickly.

  The damsels were no less lenient with Marcus, persuading him to join them. He obliged them at times.

  “Side by side they look like father and son,” commented Zaria at one point. Rachel only silently agreed, and then also came to the conclusion that it was not safe at all to imagine Marcus being a younger sort of version of her husband.

  “Will you not dance?” She asked Zaria, surprised that the maiden had behaved herself so well.

  “Perhaps later,” she returned, casting sly eyes toward Marcus’s direction. “I may perchance lure him into my chamber for a gift he would appreciate better than the finest of gold.”

  By now Rachel had become accustomed to such sayings as this, so she did not scold her.

  She watched Jacob, considering how he had aged so very gracefully, keeping smooth tanned skin, highlights of natural color, dazzling eyes and strength. Yes, she adored him. And she was surely not alone in admiring him. He had many admirers, which she had not truly paid mind to up till this night. He was ogled flirtatiously and purposely passed up by seductive young damsels, servants and handmaidens, and a few daughters of these wealthier citizens. Perhaps they assumed he had by now tired of her. Again she recalled Zaria’s mention of noblemen and how they would gladly stray from their wives. “Not all, mind you,” she’d said at one point, “But the most part of them.” She likely said so to spare her from worrying.

  Men of some status, according to Zaria, were also known to persuade their daughters to seduce men of higher status so as to receive honors and favors, if even for a short time.

  Rachel began to think of what a shame it was that he could not make love to his own wife. But then, thinking of how well he’d handled himself despite this lack of intimacy, she admired him all the more.

  But the image came out from hiding again, that of he and the faceless woman. How she despised it and the feelings it aroused in her. She scorned herself and the image, thinking she needed to visit the chapel very soon.

  The damsels continually paid him a great deal of attention, but none to worry; she received an equal amount, which she was certain he noticed as well. Only Jacob was very confident. He trusted her and she knew it…also that he desired her. Such longing radiated from him like rays from the sun. This consoled her, and boosted her confidence. She was able to relax, and to calmly entertain and be entertained…to overlook such flirtatious actions as continually caught both his and her eye. There was nothing at all to worry about. He wanted her. Not these flamboyant trollops who’d probably already bedded dozens of men in their life.

  Now she began telling herself to not judge them, and decided it would be best to have yet another glass of wine. She was about to take one when she saw Jacob coming toward her, a relaxed, sheepish grin upon his face that not only reminded her that he had ingested a fair share of wine, but of his desire for her. He took her hand and she stood, allowing him to guide her from the room, away from the company of the guests and the commotion they were by now causing. They went off to themselves.

  Once outside of the room, he turned her about and into his arms, and he kissed her lips—a long, lingering kiss that reminded her of the lovers in the garden.

  “Have I told you how exceptionally beautiful you are?” He asked, smoothing a hand down her hair.

  “No, you have not, but you needn’t say a word. Such compliments are embedded into your eyes.”

  He lowered his head and swept his lips over hers again and again, kindling violent flames of desire in the pits of her stomach. She began kissing him back until he drew away—not very far, mere inches. He held his hands to either side of her face, sweeping his thumbs over her skin. A breath caught in her lungs, and her blood turned very hot. She became limber, falling into him.

  “Rachel, Rachel. My dear Rachel,” he said, pulling back so as to see her. In his eyes, unlike anything she’d ever seen before, were such dark clouds of flaming desire. Dark and piercingly wicked with longing. But not dangerous. No, she could never fear him.

  “How long shall you fight your heart, Rachel?” He asked, smoothing a hand down her hair. “When I am not with you…when we depart from one another, do you fight your heart?”

  “You have already perceived so,” she said, her voice slightly trembling.

  He held her closer, his hands sliding from her hips to her waist, her midriff and upward. She felt the heat of his palms as they closed over her breasts, and the tips of his thumbs circling and exploring her nipples. She exhaled a quivering breath, raising her hands and holding to his shoulders, her legs nearly giving out beneath her. The image of the lovers in the garden passed through her mind, how the maiden had been exposed, and her naked flesh ravished. She imagined herself naked and Jacob lowering his head to devour her breasts and…

  An echoing commotion from the Great Hall suddenly disturbed her imaginary thoughts. The sound of two men quarreling back and forth had interrupted them and all else. The music had stopped, and the guests from their chattering.

  Yelling and cursing between one man and another filled the air, and then the sound of Marcus’s voice demanding they both drop their weapons. Jacob’s hands slid away. He released her and made his way back into the Great Hall. Rachel followed close behind to see what all the commotion was about.

  Jacob paved his way thru those who had been dancing and toward the two men, both of whom had drawn their swords and stood in stance across from one another as if to attack at any given moment.

  Marcus now stood between them, and Jacob demanded an explanation. “What is
this?” He angrily demanded, and before anyone could respond, “whatever it is, you will take it elsewhere!”

  “Why should it be taken elsewhere when—“

  “—shut up!” Marcus commanded, peering upon the man with a fierce hardening of the eyes and face.

  “What is this about?” Jacob demanded to know.

  “You’ve taken the side of the bastard,” the second one sneered.

  “I’ve taken no side,” Marcus angrily claimed.

  “Then why—“

  “—I said I have taken no side,” Marcus yelled back at him. “Now shut up! Both of you! You will not speak of it! Do you hear me? You will not speak of it!”

  Jacob was very confused staring from one face to the next. His gaze finally came to and stopped at Marcus. “What is this?” He asked him.

  “It is nothing…they are drunk.”

  “What were you saying?” Jacob asked the one who’d been so bluntly interrupted. At this point neither of the men would speak. They chose rather to honor Marcus’s command, which Jacob was not at all happy about.

  “Very well, then,” he surrendered, and then commanded, “Get out! Both of you!” and then “All of you!”

  With that, he disappeared and Rachel did not see him again the remainder of the night.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Marcus had paced a long while in his private quarters before gathering the proper amount of courage needed to face Jacob later on…and he had to face him. Peculiar how intoxication could flee with the slightest amount of discord—and he had absolutely no desire to bed any one of the maidens who’d made themselves available to him. He’d actually had his eye upon Zaria, but after the verbal brawl between the two men…well, to say the least all he had in mind now was to make things right with his friend.

  “Damn them,” he’d muttered dozens of times, cursing Dexter and Kyle who’d caused chaos in what would have otherwise been a perfect night. He realized all the more how incredibly fragile their quest had become, how very delicate a secret…and hated that so many were now involved.