Finders Keepers (Norman Brides)

by Wood, Lynn

  His eyes sought hers, and seeing the very real fear Melissa tried to hide in their sapphire depths was nearly his undoing. If in that moment she asked him to free her from her commitment to wed him, he would grant it, despite his heart’s urging to the contrary. He’d known as soon as he found her Melissa was a precious treasure, a woman who was his equal in spirit and courage. He’d already battled death for her; he would not shirk from the campaign confronting him now.

  It was only necessary she speak the words committing herself to him, making her life his to order in the eyes of the law and the church. He would have the next twelve months to convince her to set aside her foolish notion of divorce. If God smiled upon their joining tonight, she might even give birth to his son or daughter in the coming year, thus effectively putting an end to any talk of the dissolution of their marriage.

  Melissa tried to still the slight trembling of her hand where it rested on the king’s arm. Through the hazy veil of her fears she could see Luke waiting for her near the altar. He was so handsome, so strong, yet his eyes were so often filled with laughter. If things had been different, she could have entered this marriage with happy anticipation rather than the trepidation that nearly overwhelmed her now. She could envision her father at her side, her mother and sister shedding tears at the sight of her walking down the long aisle. Her father would speak the words that would give his elder daughter to her husband.

  Rhiann at least was there as a witness, and there were tears in her eyes, but her tears were more anxious than joyful. Tomorrow they would leave for Heaven’s Crest. Luke would set off on his search for Michel. She thought perhaps she could persuade him to take her with him, thus sparing her being obliged to return to her father’s home and see her sister rather than her mother as its mistress, Rhiann’s Norman husband, its new lord.

  When they reached the front of the church, she feared for a moment someone in the large crowd of gathered witnesses might stand and proclaim it a blasphemy to recite their vows with the promise of divorce hanging like a proverbial sword over their heads. But the church remained reverently silent as the king placed her hand in Luke’s. Her soon to be husband’s eyes sought hers as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze and they turned to face the front of the church where the old priest waited for them on the altar. Together they climbed the final few steps and knelt before him.

  Tears stung her eyes when Luke recited his vows to her. Melissa could almost believe he meant them from the depths of his heart, and not just his knight’s honor. Shaking off her reservations when it was her turn, her eyes clung to Luke’s warm gaze as she repeated her own pledge in a halting whisper only he and the priest could hear. A tender smile curved his lips and he held firmly her small hands within his much larger ones.

  When the priest pronounced them man and wife, Luke’s lips curved in a wicked smile as the elderly man inquired, “Will you seal your vows with a kiss for your bride?”

  Luke responded without turning his attention away from his bride’s face. “Most definitely, Father.”

  Melissa caught the priest’s muffled smirk before Luke demanded her attention. “Well wife, will you seal our vows with a kiss for your husband?”

  Melissa, catching a hint of Luke’s carefree mood, grinned back into his laughing eyes. “Only a kiss, my lord? You relieve my maidenly fears. Here I was thinking you intended to demand your intimate husbandly rights tonight. How considerate of you to wait until we’ve grown more accustomed to each other’s ways.”

  This time the grunt of laughter came from behind her husband’s shoulders. She glanced up to see his friend grinning down at her. She smiled back, but her lips were immediately captured by her new husband’s brushing across her own on the way to the sensitive skin behind her ear. “Not even the good Father would be that considerate with the prospect of you waiting in his bed.”

  Melissa giggled at his teasing remark. He stared down at the laughter dancing in her eyes, his glance sliding lower to where her lips curved upward, then he released her hands to allow his arms to slide around her back and draw her closer into his embrace. The laughter fled her eyes and was replaced with trepidation as he bent his head towards hers, while at the same time lifting her up off her feet to bring her closer to him. Overwhelmed by his romantic display, she raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck. Her eyes clung to his as their lips met and his fervent promise echoed between them. “You’re mine now, wife. I’ll never let you go.”

  Melissa let herself surrender to the joy of his pledge and the strength underlying it. Harsh reality would be waiting to greet them in the morning light. For now she would allow herself the joy of relishing the experience of being married to the man she loved and the anticipation of the night ahead. Luke felt her lips soften beneath his, and surprised by his bride’s warm response, drew her closer to the delight of the applauding crowd. After long moments, with his head spinning just as her sister promised, it was with great reluctance Luke raised his lips from his wife’s and turned with his hands still resting possessively on her shoulders to greet their well-wishers.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Melissa hugged Rhiann and thanked the queen as Matilda led her sister to the door after helping her to prepare for her wedding night. She smiled reassuringly in Rhiann’s direction and then closed her eyes and tried to get a grip on her growing panic as the door closed behind them. Her hands were shaking and she was having trouble catching her breath. She couldn’t believe how nervous she was. It wasn’t as if she was the virgin both the queen and Rhiann assumed she was. How in the world had Rhiann faced the prospect of her wedding night with Nathan, who had been a virtual stranger to her at the time?

  She held out her hands to the hearth, hoping to convince herself they were shaking from the chill in the room rather than her fear of what was to come. Though the fire put off a lot of warmth, the thin gown the queen made a gift to her for her wedding night was little better than wearing a fluffy cloud to bed. Of course the gown was not made with warmth in mind, but to entice a man to surrender to his lustful intent. She thought about climbing between the sheets and beneath the warmth of the heavy quilt on the bed, but was reminded of Luke’s earlier comment about her waiting in his bed. Even though she doubted Luke would require the enticement the gown offered to persuade him to exercise his husbandly rights, she thought he might interpret her hiding beneath the sheets as a cowardly act on her part, and she was unwilling to give him even that little bit of satisfaction.

  Melissa’s growing anxiety about the night ahead rose with each passing moment. When Luke didn’t immediately appear in the door as the queen predicted he would, Melissa began pacing the room to keep her nerves under control. Her rational intent to make the best of things, alongside her fair-minded acknowledgment she was as much to blame as Luke for the mess they found themselves in slowly dissipated with his continued delay in coming to her. She became convinced his tardiness was a deliberate ploy on Luke’s part to make her anxious.

  Maybe he wasn’t going to come at all. Perhaps he decided he didn’t want her, after all. Tears stung her eyes as the fantasy of the romantic wedding night she allowed herself to indulge in evaporated in the silence of her own company. She stepped over to the bed and wrapped the heavy quilt around her and returned to sit in front of the hearth. If Luke ever did decide to come for her, she was not going to be waiting for him in the stupid bed.

  She lay down in front of the fire. Her lids were heavy. The excitement of the day and the nervous anticipation of the night ahead drained her of her small store of energy she managed to build up since her recovery. She rested her head on her bent arm. Her last thought before she closed her eyes was that this was not exactly the wedding night she pictured in her dreams as a young girl.

  Finally free of his friends’ good-natured ribbing about the loss of his bachelorhood, Luke knocked on the door to his bride’s room. He’d waited long enough to claim his new wife and thought himself a considerate groom for his patience. Hopefully his bri
de was not waiting on the other side of the door in a warrior’s stance with her dagger pointed at his chest.

  His senses on full alert, he cautiously pushed open the solid wooden door. When his bride didn’t immediately jump him or start screaming at him, another thought made his heart catch in panic. She was gone, either by way of the window or through some secret passage concealed in the old keep one of the Saxon servants revealed to her. He stepped into the room and closed the door. His eyes barely skimmed the empty bed with no real expectation of finding his bride waiting for him there like a good wife should be on her wedding night.

  He strode over to the window and peered out into the night. It was a long drop down into the crowded courtyard. Not impossible, but unlikely Melissa would have taken that route. No, he thought it more probable there was a concealed way out of the room. He glanced around the small chamber for the most likely spot to hide such a device, decided the long wall opposite the bed behind the chest was the most plausible and almost stepped on his sleeping wife when he strode across the room. Stunned, he stopped mid-stride as he caught sight of her curled up on the floor in front of the fireplace, wrapped up in the quilt from the bed. He took a moment to get his breathing back under control as relief engulfed him that he would not have to chase his bride across Saxony on their wedding night.

  His lips curved in a tender, if slightly amused smile at the sight of her lying prone at his feet. He took a moment to savor the pleasing sight as it was no doubt the last time in his life Melissa would lay prostrate before him. Grinning at the thought, he knelt down and brushed his knuckles tenderly across her cheek where her head rested, pillowed on her bent arm. She didn’t stir. His eyes roamed over her beautiful features and he thought he’d never seen a more lovely sight than Melissa in repose. Her features were perfectly formed in a way that was so pleasing to him he wondered if others saw her as he did, or if he was somehow uniquely susceptible to her womanly charms. Soft and feminine all over, her full lips tantalized him with the memories of them pressed against his own fevered skin. Her hair was her crowning glory. He let his fingers play with the long dark curls, softer than a kitten’s fur, and felt the harsh stab of lust rise within him.

  He’d been fighting against his manly urges all day, knowing he would claim his bride before night became dawn and the sun rose on a new morning. She was his, all fierce fighting spirit and soft femininity; combined together to form an elixir the Almighty must have created especially to please his own still half-wild spirit. He sent up a fervent prayer of gratitude to his maker, thinking if he didn’t live to see another dawn he would not count himself cheated of the best life had to offer. As long as God did not see fit to take him before he had this night with his bride, especially as she appeared fully healed from her injuries and he no longer had to concern himself with the worry of killing her with his passion.

  Feeling his body’s rising frustration and confusion at his delay in satisfying its just urgings he could smile at his own impatience. He shifted on his feet somewhat to ease the discomfort of the now tight fit of his breeches. He returned his hand to brush his wife’s soft skin again with his knuckles and heard her sigh in her sleep. Heavy lids forced themselves open over groggy sapphire eyes and seeing him, her lips curved in a smile of pleased, (he hoped), recognition.

  “Luke?”

  Just a single word, his name, spoken in a husky whisper of newly awakened sleep, sent another stab of lust through him. If this kept up she would have him on his knees before he even got her into bed. Oh right, he already was on his knees. It was just as well because at the moment he wasn’t certain he could stand. “Yes, love,” he whispered. “What are you doing on the floor? I assure you it will not in the least deter me from exercising my intimate husbandly rights.”

  Soft laughter greeted his teasing remark and her glance held a knowing glint as his eyes followed every tiny movement of her lips as they curved upward to smile at him and her deep blue eyes clung to his. He could no longer resist the urge to taste her sweet mouth and explore this unexpected welcome. He bent his head and waited for her to protest his intention…a protest he would not hesitate to deny, one he was prepared to battle with a man’s rational argument of a husband being entitled to claim a kiss on his wedding night, but none was forthcoming. Instead, she rolled over onto her back and lifted her arms to wrap around his neck and pull him closer.

  Loosening the reins a little on his self-control, his lips brushed hers gently, and then surrendering to his righteous lust, plundered. She didn’t fight him. She embraced him, opening her sweet mouth to his, their tongues dueling briefly before she withdrew her defenses from the unequal battle and let him simply take what he wanted. When he lifted his head, he stared down into blue eyes dazed with both sleep and passion and realized his own dark ones were probably staring down at her with a similarly glazed look, but in his case the cause was both confusion and astonishment at her reception .

  “Have you taken leave of your senses?” She asked him in a soft, husky whisper.

  He grinned. When she would have struggled into a seated position, he gently pushed her back down on her back.

  Sighing, she reached up and ran her fingers along the planes of his face. “What were you thinking, Luke? This was so foolish of you. Noble, but foolish.”

  “Noble?” He grinned at her ridiculous conclusion, and gripped her roaming hand and kissed the soft palm.

  “Yes, noble. Why do you think I left the way I did? I knew you would insist on marrying me if I didn’t die.”

  His dark eyes sparkled with laughter, catching the light of the flames in the hearth. “In my eyes, Melissa, we were already married. Did you not pledge yourself to me?”

  “But that was only for a single night, to satisfy your knight’s honor.”

  “No, love, it was until death parted us, and since death has apparently changed its mind, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a husband.”

  Tearful eyes met his teasing ones. “No, Luke. I promised you wouldn’t be stuck with me for a wife. Now look what you’ve made us do. How are we going to get out of this mess? Your father’s going to be furious.”

  “I have no intention of getting us out of it, and I trust you will not continue to refer to our marriage as a mess. People might get the wrong idea.”

  “This is not a joke. And it doesn’t matter what your intentions are, you already signed the divorce papers.”

  Luke decided to tread carefully. He had no plan to honor his signature on the idiotic divorce papers she insisted on, but confessing to that sin might start a fresh argument. The last thing he wanted to do with his bride on their wedding night was argue about his knightly honor or lack thereof, so he compromised. “The papers are only valid if I don’t bring you back word of your brother.”

  “You will look for him?” There was fresh desperation in the grief-filled eyes she raised to his.

  He brushed the tears pooling on her lashes away, and his voice was serious when he promised. “I will search for Michel, Melissa. It wasn’t necessary for you to put a noose around my neck and make me sign those ridiculous divorce papers in order to force my promise to do so.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, truly I am. I didn’t insist on the divorce to get you to look for Michel. I insisted on the divorce so you would have a year to come to your senses.”

  “What senses am I supposed to come to?”

  “You don’t want me for your wife, Luke. I will not be the pleasing, compliant wife my sister is to your friend, Nathan.”

  Remembering the tongue lashing he received the previous evening from Lady Rhiann, he couldn’t suppress his grunt of laughter at her description of her sister. “Compliant is not how I, nor I think, Nathan, would describe your sister. Besides I have no wish for a compliant wife. Inexplicable as it may seem, I prefer a woman who wears a dagger strapped to her thigh. Where is your dagger by the way?”

  Melissa laughed at his weak attempt at humor. “On the chest next to th
e bed.”

  Luke glanced over his shoulder and then turned back to his wife. “I believe we will move it out of reach for tonight. A man should not have to face the fear of his wife’s quick hands and skill with a warrior’s blade on his wedding night.”

  Melissa grinned back into his laughing eyes even as Luke stood and lifted her into his arms to carry her over to the bed. He reached one hand down for the dagger on the chest, and then carried her back across the room to lay it on the larger chest in front of the opposite wall before returning to the bed. When he would have laid her down in the center of it, she stopped him with a word of protest.

  “No, no not yet.”

  Luke bit back on his impatient retort and instead queried mildly, “Is there some other document you would like to gain my seal on before we proceed?”

  Melissa giggled. He was entranced by the tinkling sound and the shy glance she raised to his. “No, no more documents. It’s only…”

  “Yes? It’s only what?”

  She blushed. Luke was quite certain he’d never seen his wife blush before and it enchanted him.

  “It’s only the queen made a gift of this gown to me for our wedding night. I would hate not to put it to good use.”

  Luke’s eyes roamed lower to where his wife’s beautiful slender form was wrapped in the heavy quilt from the bed. His imagination was busily filling in what lay underneath, so his voice was raspy with suppressed passion when he replied to her teasing, “Yes, it would be a shame not to put the queen’s gift to good use.”

  Her lips curving in feminine understanding of her power over him, Melissa reminded him, “You’ll have to put me down first.”

  He did so with obvious reluctance. Melissa gripped the quilt at her chest so it wouldn’t fall off of her. The look in Luke’s eyes as he watched her was making her breath ramp up in unison with her rising anticipation of the night ahead. “You need to go over there and turn your back,” she instructed him, motioning him to the other side of the room.