Marked By Honor

by Alexa Aston

  *

  Beatrice changed into a blue cotehardie trimmed with gold piping. Tomorrow, she would wear the one with her hidden coins when they left to return home.

  Home.

  Would they make Ashcroft their home? She’d already voiced her concerns to Raynor if they did so. She didn’t want to hurt Peter Le Roux by flaunting their love in front of him, but she wouldn’t be comfortable living there as Raynor’s wife if his brother grew bitter. Raynor had spoken of a small cottage, but Beatrice wondered if he could be happy in such a place since he’d lived in grand castles his entire life.

  The important thing was to make their way from Brookhaven as soon as possible. She didn’t like the idea of them staying another night with Edwin Stollers as lord. Beatrice thought it in poor taste to hold a feast on the very day both his father and grandfather were buried. She assumed Edwin did so simply because he could. No mention had been made of any other siblings, so she supposed he inherited everything with the deaths of the two men.

  Beatrice hoped she and Raynor could leave before the castle’s occupants awoke. It worried her that Edwin had many soldiers at his disposal. She guessed that Raynor agreed for them to stay another night so that Edwin wasn’t offended or upset. Now that the young nobleman held the title, he could prove to be a powerful foe.

  Hoping to quell her nerves, she combed her hair out. Grandfather enjoyed combing her hair when she was young, and the motion had always soothed her. It made her wish that she could have gotten to know Sir Henry better since he reminded her so much of her own grandfather. At least she had brought the nobleman some small comfort in the end with her song.

  Beatrice braided her hair again and reached for her lute. With the instrument in hand, it was time to make her way to the great hall.

  A knock sounded at her door. She answered it and found Raynor standing there, looking handsome and confident. It thrilled her that this dashing knight with the mesmerizing green eyes had forgiven her transgressions and actually professed his love for her. She had to be the luckiest woman in all of England.

  He stole a quick kiss from her. “I long for more, sweetheart, but we are due downstairs.” His eyes sparkled as he promised her, “There will plenty more of those to come.”

  Raynor offered her his arm and took the lute in his free hand. Beatrice felt his warmth radiating beneath her fingers and squeezed his arm.

  They reached the great hall, which was almost full. Shem, the steward, met them.

  “My lord awaits you on the dais. I’m to escort you to him.”

  “My friends,” Edwin welcomed them as they approached, his arms held wide. “Come and join me for our feast. We have boar and partridge. Eel and salmon. Heron and swan. A meal fit for a king.”

  The new Baron of Brookhaven seated Beatrice on his right and had Raynor sit to his left. She hated being separated from Raynor but kept her dissatisfaction to herself. Edwin indicated they’d share a trencher. She took a sip of wine from the goblet before her.

  Course after course arrived, but she only picked at the food. A somber air hung over the room. She guessed the inhabitants of Brookhaven weren’t pleased with their new lord’s decision to treat tonight as a celebration when they should have been in mourning.

  The last course finally came. She forced a few bites of it down before Edwin rose to his feet.

  “Good people of Brookhaven,” he addressed them, a broad smile on his face. “I know you held Sir Henry and Sir Guy in great esteem. It’s the reason why I wanted us to celebrate their lives tonight.”

  Lifting his wine glass, everyone present followed suit. Holding the cup high, he said, “I hope one day to be as wise as my grandfather as I rule over Brookhaven with a lovely lady by my side.”

  Beatrice felt a multitude of eyes fall upon her. Her pulse beat wildly. She feared Edwin might announce their upcoming nuptials and then they would truly have a serious situation to contend with.

  But the moment passed. Instead, he spoke of how hard everyone worked at the estate and how valuable their contributions were in keeping the property running smoothly. She began to relax.

  “And finally, I have a treat from the special lady seated next to me.” He glanced down and gave her a smile. “Lady Beatrice Bordel has agreed to entertain us with her lute. So pour more wine for us all and enjoy the music.”

  Nerves rushed through Beatrice at the attention she now received. Her mouth grew dry. She took a long sip of wine and swished it around before swallowing it. Retrieving the lute Raynor had placed in the chair beside her, she slipped it into her lap.

  Taking a calming breath, she decided to play a few of the songs she’d sung on the road that Timothy and Bobbit had seemed to enjoy. Beatrice started with the secret inside the Trojan horse and the surprise attack that occurred after the unexpected gift was rolled inside the city gates.

  After each song, hearty applause filled the great hall, soothing her nerves. Her voice grew weary, so she decided to end with something different.

  “I’d like to share a last song with you,” she told her audience. “It’s the very one I sang to Sir Henry before he passed on. He didn’t ask for songs of glory and adventure. He told me he’d known love and thought it was what mattered most. This is what I played for him.”

  The large room quieted as Beatrice plucked the strings again. She began the familiar song of Odysseus and Penelope, though this time her heart sang it for Raynor. With every line that Odysseus proclaimed his love for his wife, Beatrice expressed her tender feelings for the gallant knight who had come to be her entire world.

  When the last note sounded, no one moved. Beatrice thought she’d done something wrong before the thunderous applause began. Cheers called out her name and that of Sir Henry’s.

  Beatrice finally found the courage to look across at Raynor. She hadn’t been able to glance at him during the song because of the strong emotions that filled her.

  His warm smile told her he’d received her message and was pleased with how she’d played.

  “You exceeded my expectations, my lady. Thank you for making tonight such a blessed occasion,” Edwin said.

  She’d become so lost in her song and her love for Raynor that she’d forgotten Edwin Stollers sat nearby.

  “I’m very tired after my performance, my lord. I hope you’ll excuse me from the remainder of the festivities.”

  “Of course, Lady Beatrice. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Raynor spoke up. “Let me escort you to your chamber, my lady.” He stood and removed the lute from her lap and then offered his hand to help her down from the dais.

  It took several minutes to make their way through the great hall. Many people came up and told her how moved they were by her song. Beatrice listened as they shared how Sir Henry would have been both proud and delighted by her performance. A few even mentioned in hushed tones that she’d honored Sir Henry in an appropriate manner.

  Finally, she and Raynor escaped and made their way upstairs. When they reached her bedchamber, Raynor lifted her hand from his arm. He turned it over and placed a searing kiss in her palm, causing her heart to skip a beat.

  “Do not undress tonight, Beatrice,” he instructed her.

  His words puzzled her. “Why not?”

  He grasped her elbows in his hands. “I’ve arranged for Father Bernard to marry us at midnight. Rest, for I know today’s events have tired you. I’ll return for you so we can slip away and meet the priest at the chapel door.”

  Happiness filled her. Beatrice pulled Raynor’s face to hers and kissed him with enthusiasm.

  He finally broke the kiss. “I thought it best,” he explained, “to be wed before we begin traveling south. I wanted to make sure you’re mine.” Raynor kissed her tenderly. “Don’t mention our actions to Stollers if we see him in the morning.”

  He pressed a chaste kiss upon her forehead. “I’ll return for you shortly.”

  Beatrice entered the chamber, butterflies dancing in her stomach. Tonight, she would
be wed. That would include Raynor loving her, making her his—in every way.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Beatrice. Wake up, love.”

  She opened her eyes and found Raynor beside her bed. The candle burned low.

  She sat up. “I didn’t think I would fall asleep.”

  He cupped her face tenderly. “It was a trying day. I doubt you’ve ever had such an eventful day, sweetheart.”

  “But you forgot the best part,” she said. “When you forgave me for deceiving you. When you told me that you loved me.”

  “Oh, that?” he said, his eyes dancing with mischief.

  Beatrice punched him playfully in the arm.

  Raynor rubbed where she had hit him. “You may be small, but you’re most strong, my lady. I suppose I’ll have to watch what I say in the coming years.”

  “Remember, my lord, you are the one who taught me how to defend myself.” She arched her eyebrows. “The next time you displease me? I might go for your nose. Or worse.”

  He traced her lips with a finger. “I hope I’ll never displease you, Beatrice. I plan to tell you every day how very much I love you.”

  His lips brushed against hers, and their warmth spread a pleasant tingling throughout her body.

  Raynor broke the kiss and pulled her to her feet. “Come. We must hurry. I’ve checked the great hall and everyone has bedded down. We need to watch, though, for anyone that may roam the halls.”

  They quietly exited her bedchamber and found the dimly lit corridor empty. Luck was with them. They passed no one as they left the keep and crossed the inner bailey to the chapel. Beatrice made out three figures lurking in the shadows at its door. One had to be Father Bernard. As they drew closer, she recognized Shem, the steward, and the healer she had spoken to earlier.

  The priest greeted them. “These two will serve as witnesses to your union.”

  Both gave them friendly smiles. Beatrice knew they risked Edwin Stollers’ wrath with their presence tonight. If he learned of their participation, she could only guess at what their punishment might be.

  Father Bernard spoke briefly of the sacrament of marriage, then he had them repeat their vows. Raynor’s voice was strong and sure as he gazed into her eyes. Beatrice repeated the identical words, binding her to this knight for all time.

  The priest asked if Raynor had a ring to give his bride.

  “Nay, Father. I didn’t know when I left Ashcroft that I would be marrying the love of my life.” He gave her an apologetic yet tender look. “But I plan to purchase one as we journey home. I will have it blessed.”

  Before the priest could continue with the ceremony, Beatrice spoke up. “Wait, Father.” She pulled out the ruby ring from her pocket and held it up.

  “This ring was my mother’s wedding ring, a gift from my father. If you would bless it, ’twould be a symbol of our love for one another and a daily reminder of the brief happiness my parents experienced.”

  She handed the ring to Father Bernard for his blessing. The priest did so and then passed it to Raynor. He slipped it on her finger, repeating after the priest his intentions to love and honor her always.

  “You are now joined in holy matrimony in the eyes of God and those of man,” the priest intoned. He nodded to Raynor. “You may now kiss your bride, my lord.”

  Raynor needed no further urging. He drew her to him and gave her the slowest, sweetest kiss she’d received from him. Beatrice marveled that she was now this loving man’s wife. She swore to herself that not only would she honor, respect, and love him till her dying day but also protect him from all harm.

  “Usually, we’d go into the chapel for mass at this point,” Father Bernard said, “but given the late hour, I believe we should return to our beds. Have no worries. You are married.”

  “I can’t thank you enough, Father, or our two witnesses, for honoring my request to see that we were wed before we leave for Ashcroft.” Raynor looked at the healer and steward. “I hope we haven’t endangered you. Know that you have our gratitude.”

  “Sir Henry would have been pleased with your marriage,” Shem said. “It’s worth the risk we take. We also know things will change at Brookhaven with his passing—and not for the better.”

  “I wish I could offer you each a place at Ashcroft,” Raynor replied, “but I’m not at liberty to do so. My older brother is its baron.”

  “No worries, my lord,” the healer said, “but if you ever find a need, send for us. Shem and I would be happy to come south and make our home elsewhere.”

  Father Bernard excused himself and went inside the chapel. The others walked back to the keep and silently entered. They tiptoed past the great hall. Beatrice and Raynor gave a wave and turned to ascend the stairs.

  Raynor led her back to her room. He followed her inside and locked the door. A single candle burned in the bedchamber. Beatrice looked up at her new husband and found Raynor drinking her in. She shivered in anticipation of what would come next.

  He took her hands in his and threaded their fingers together. “You have nothing to fear, love.”

  “I’m not afraid,” she replied. “Nervous? Somewhat. But I trust you.”

  “Did . . . did your lady mother tell you anything of the marriage bed?”

  “Nay. Her last years were spent in poor health. She did not speak much. Frankly, I never gave marriage a thought. I think Grandfather may have been considering a match for me before he died, but I’ll never know.” She smiled. “I do know that he would’ve approved of you, Raynor. You’re everything that Grandfather respected in a man.”

  “I hope so.” He led her to the bed. “Remember, what passes between a man and woman is sacred. I will cherish you always, Beatrice. I hope to make you happy.”

  She gazed up at him, her heart bursting with love. “You already have.”

  He gave her a deep kiss. Beatrice couldn’t imagine being happier than in this moment, sharing a kiss with her new husband.

  Raynor stroked her face tenderly. “We may be legally wed, but we must consummate our marriage to make it official. To do that, I need to rid you of all these layers of clothing.”

  He removed her cotehardie and then lifted her kirtle and smock from her, gazing down at her in wonder.

  “By the Christ, Beatrice, you are lovely. I am in awe of your beauty.” His hands cupped her breasts as he gave her a lingering kiss.

  As his fingers kneaded her, a pulsing ache began inside. Beatrice gripped his waist. He broke the kiss and trailed his tongue down the slender column of her throat, all the way to her bare belly, bringing new sensations that she longed to explore. Then he knelt and removed her shoes and hose.

  She now stood unclothed before him.

  Raynor swept her into his arms and placed her gently on the bed. He quickly stripped off his own clothing. Beatrice stared in awe as he stood before her, naked in the flickering candlelight. His shoulders looked even broader than before. A mat of hair on his broad, muscular chest ran down to a flat belly and beyond. His manhood now stood at attention. She swallowed, surprised by the size of it and having no idea what came next.

  “Are you pleased at what you see?” he asked.

  Overcome with emotion, Beatrice only nodded.

  “Rise from the bed,” he said. “I want to turn back the bedclothes.”

  She scrambled off. Together, they eased the covers back and slipped into the bed. Raynor drew the sheet over them and then faced her as they both lay on their sides.

  “May I loosen your braid?” he asked. “I would love to see your hair unbound.”

  Lifting the long braid, she watched as he undid the ribbon that anchored it in place. Slowly, he parted the pieces, unraveling them until her hair fell to her waist. His fingers ran from her scalp to the ends, over and over. She stretched sensually, satisfied by his touch.

  Then he nuzzled her neck and ear, his breath warm against her skin. The ache within her turned into a throb. The throbbing began a primordial beat within her. It built as his
hands caressed her breasts, then the curve of her hip, and skimmed along her thighs. Slowly, he parted her legs and touched her at their apex. She gasped in shock as he thrust a finger inside and began stroking her slowly, instant pleasure radiating within her.

  “Oh. My.” Her breathing began to quicken.

  Little flutters danced in her stomach. The throbbing beat stronger and harder as another finger entered her and he moved it more quickly. He kissed her again, his tongue imitating the movement of his fingers. Beatrice found it hard to breathe. Her hands went to his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. His kiss grew more demanding as his hand worked its magic.

  Then a quivering began deep inside her. It built until a sudden explosion of sensations erupted and spread through her, warm as sunshine. Beatrice arched her back as Raynor’s mouth moved to her throat, nipping in tiny love bites as his fingers kept up their steady motion. She dug her nails deeper into his back as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her. She cried out, but his mouth quickly covered hers, silencing the noise as she rode the undulating wave through the storm of pleasure.

  Exhausted, her hands fell from his shoulders. She lay limply on the bed as he hovered over her. Their eyes met.

  “What I do, I must do quickly,” he whispered.

  Before she could reply, he removed his fingers from her and replaced them with his manhood. With one push, all the beauty of the moment vanished. Once again, Raynor’s mouth kept her from making a sound. He continued to kiss her but held still within her.

  Beatrice felt the driving need begin to build within her again.

  “’Twill never hurt in the future, my love,” he assured her. “I had to break through your maidenhead, but now you will only find pleasure in what we do.”

  She could feel him pulsating within her. Slowly, he began to move, in and out.

  He was right. The brief moment of pain had vanished, replaced by a hunger she’d never known. Each thrust filled her. She clung to him, drawing him deeper. The rocking became faster, harder, more intense. Once more, Beatrice held on for dear life.