“Did your father arrange the marriage, then?” Gunter bit a chunk of roasted goose and chewed on it noisily.
“Nay.” Sadness threatened to engulf Melusine at the thought of her father. Would his gentle soul ever forgive her and her sisters? “My father died long ago.”
“So, who owns you?” Goose grease slicked Gunter’s lips. “A brother? An uncle? Every woman belongs to a man.”
Although she resented the concept of such ownership, Melusine didn’t express her distaste. “After my half brother assumed the throne, my mother, my sisters and I led a spiritual life on an isolated island.”
Sigefroi’s eyes twinkled with sudden interest as he carved a breast and laid it on Melusine’s trencher. “A monastery?”
“Of sorts, aye.” Although a Pagan one dedicated to the Goddess, the Lost Isle could be called a monastery. Melusine cut a small chunk of goose with her dagger, then chewed slowly, enjoying its perfect taste and tender consistency.
“So, you only belong to God?” With the point of his poniard, Gunter attempted to dislodge a piece of meat stuck in his teeth.
“I belong to myself and make my own decisions,” Melusine stated with emphasis.
Sigefroi gazed at her deeply, as if aroused by her unnatural desire to belong to no man. His lips curved into a half smile each time she evaded embarrassing questions.
Relentless, Gunter pursued, “How far have you traveled today, and why do you carry such riches without an armed escort?”
Melusine smiled. At least, Gunter was easy to manipulate. “I came from France, a day’s ride west of here,” she lied easily. “And as you just said, Sir Knight, no one would expect an unescorted train to carry anything of value. The lack of guards is my best protection against prowling war bands or greedy lordlings.”
“But what about your virtue?” Gunter insisted. “You don’t even have a chaperone. And your mounts and rich clothes could tempt petty thieves.”
Tired of the subject, Melusine sent a dismissive thought to Gunter’s mind. “I can handle molesters and petty thieves.”
Sigefroi chuckled. “I can vouch for that.”
Melusine observed Sigefroi as he ate and drank heartily. She suspected he committed to memory each and every word. The next remove included mutton, lentils, and cheese. Melusine ate little, but everything tasted wonderful.
She smiled when he glanced at her. “I am impressed by your lavish hospitality, my lord.”
Sigefroi smiled back. “You haven’t tasted my bed yet, my lady. Its pleasures greatly surpass those of my table.”
A hot flush flooded Melusine’s face and Gunter roared with laughter.
Chapter Five
Acutely aware of Melusine’s warmth, her thigh so close to his under the table, Sigefroi handed her the silver goblet they shared. When she declined the wine for the third time, he wondered whether she wanted to keep a clear mind for the rest of the night. Or perhaps she feared she might divulge some secrets if the wine went to her head.
If she were a maiden, as she claimed, she should be frightened, and drink would help. So why refuse? Sigefroi took a sip and set the goblet on the tablecloth while watching his feasting subjects.
At the moment, Gunter seemed captivated by the adoring eyes and generous bosom of the serving wench who sat on his lap and shared his cup. The brawny knight had gulped more than his share of wine. Around the trestle tables lining the hall, conversations and spirits soared while soldiers sang bawdy limericks that brought color to the women’s cheeks.
Voices rose in anger at the far end of the guards’ table. The soldiers stopped singing. A platter of food clattered to the center of the mosaic floor.
Gunter rose, unseating his wench who yelped and scuttled away, then the knight drew his sword and stepped in front of the high table, in a stance Sigefroi had often seen in battle. Except for two young men wrestling on the central floor usually reserved for entertainment, no one moved or talked.
Repressing the urge to vent his anger at the rudeness of his new guards, Sigefroi wiped his mouth with the hem of the tablecloth then stood up and cleared his throat.
“Separate them,” he barked.
Soldiers grabbed hold of the struggling delinquents and shoved them before the high table. Sigefroi recognized the two bloody-faced recruits as Cedric and Conrad, both sons of old comrades in arms. But he could not let his friendship with their fathers soften the punishment.
“I keep discipline in my hall!” Sigefroi bellowed then paused to let his words sink in. Now more than ever, he needed to enforce the rules he had dictated only ten days ago. “Do you remember the penalty for fighting among yourselves?”
The two hotheads glanced at each other but remained silent.
Sigefroi nodded to Gunter.
The brawny knight pressed his lips into a line. “Twelve lashes, I believe.”
Sigefroi surveyed the assembly for any rebellious reaction. “And how many for disturbing the peace of my hall?”
“Another twelve.” All trace of drunkenness had gone from Gunter’s demeanor.
Shock registered on Cedric and Conrad’s faces. They stared at their boots, like children caught stealing.
Sigefroi considered waiting until the morrow to mete out the punishment but decided against it. For the first offense since he’d become lord, Sigefroi needed to make a swift example that soldiers and servants would not soon forget. His authority was in jeopardy.
“Do you feel up to it, Gunter?”
Gunter glanced toward his abandoned wench then grunted. “Aye, I’ll do it.”
Sheathing his sword the brawny knight deliberately walked to the back wall and fetched the three-pronged leather whip hanging from a bronze hook.
Sigefroi turned to Melusine whose face turned pale. “That’s not the entertainment I would have wished for our betrothal, my lady, but it will have to do.”
“I understand.” Melusine sat very straight, yet he sensed in her tone more dread than true understanding of the value of discipline.
Sigefroi motioned to the soldiers still holding the culprits. “Strap them each in a chair!”
The soldiers pulled up the young men’s tunics over their heads, while other recruits brought two heavy chairs and set them side by side. Bare-chested the contrite young men straddled the chairs backwards, then a guard tied their hands around the high backrest, stretching the smooth skin of their bare backs. Both Cedric and Conrad were strong and well built. Sigefroi noted the new bulge of muscles from intense training in the fencing yard.
In the palpable tension that hung around the hall, Sigefroi addressed his people. “No fighting will I tolerate among my men, nor disruptive behavior in my hall! Save your anger for the fencing yard.” He motioned to Gunter. “Proceed!”
Sigefroi sat down to witness the execution of the sentence.
Both culprits accepted the rolled piece of leather to bite on, then laid their foreheads on the backrest. At Sigefroi’s side, Melusine barely seemed to breathe as she stared at the two dissidents. Her nervous hand rubbed the hilt of her eating dagger. She hid her repugnance like a true princess, but Sigefroi wondered what she truly felt.
With all eyes fixed on him, Sigefroi couldn’t reassure the maiden or even explain. Everyone present would think him harsh, but to avoid future incidents, a lord needed to establish a reputation for maintaining order. Feuds between soldiers led to their death in battle. Better a good flogging and a valuable lesson learned early.
During his many campaigns with Emperor Otto, Sigefroi had become a master at overcoming his revulsion for gruesome spectacles. He was glad for it now. How anyone could enjoy brutality was a mystery to him. A murmur of excitement circulated along the trestle tables while Gunter, whip in hand, made his way to the center of the hall. Fifty pairs of eyes stared with anticipation.
The first crack of the whip cut the air, leaving three lines of angry red welts on Cedric’s back. The young man flinched but didn’t cry out. Conrad tensed in expectation of the next
lash. It snapped, eliciting only a wince and a muffled grunt.
A few men and women, enthralled by the spectacle, now released the breath they’d been holding, along with whispered comments. A soldier uttered words of encouragement to his unfortunate friend while others cheered for Gunter to hit harder.
Sigefroi glanced at Melusine. Tense and absolutely still, she kept her eyes on the scene, showing no emotion, but he could feel her disapproval. So, the lady had a heart. That was good news.
With measured strokes and none of the ferocity he displayed in battle, Gunter raised the whip and lashed each dissident in turn with consistent force. Half way through the chastisement, Cedric’s skin broke and bloody welts trickled red. Still, he remained mute, barely twitching under the whip. Conrad followed his example.
While the small crowd gasped at the sight of blood, Sigefroi kept count. He appreciated the courage the two hotheads now displayed. Despite their disobedience, he would remember their valor when the time came to impart a dangerous mission.
The backs of both young men, now covered with a latticework of bloody crevices, would have made Sigefroi wince, were he not under scrutiny.
“That’s enough!” he called out after counting the last stroke.
In a deliberate arc, Gunter lowered the whip and rolled the bloody leather braids then walked away toward the hook on the wall. Two soldiers untied Cedric and Conrad and supported them as they walked out of the hall.
Sigefroi wanted to forget the regrettable incident like he usually did after a bloody battle, in the warm embrace of a female body. After signaling for more wine to be served to the guests, he turned to Melusine.
“My lady, it’s time to retire.” He rose and extended his hand to help her stand up.
She remained seated, looking from his hand to his face. She hesitated. Confusion knitted her brow, then cold anger glinted in her wide gray eyes.
Finally she rose. “I was trained in the healing arts, my lord. I should tend to these young men’s wounds.”
“Nay. The louts don’t deserve your care.” Sigefroi lowered his voice in confidence. “Besides, I request your services in my bed.”
“It’s highly inappropriate, my lord.” Melusine blushed but did not relent. “At least let me make a salve. It won’t take long. I have all the ingredients in my coffers.”
Although it infuriated him, Sigefroi had to admire the girl’s tenacity. “I said nay, my lady. Others can care for the delinquents. Tonight you’re mine alone.”
Melusine’s eyes narrowed. “I am no man’s property.”
Pushing down his displeasure, Sigefroi forced a cold smile. “As of tonight, this betrothal makes you mine by law. You will come to my bed, unless you would rather satisfy the sexual urges of a score of drunken soldiers?”
Under his stare, she glanced toward the soldiers’ table then bit her lower lip. “I would rather not, my lord.”
He offered his arm, and her small hand came to rest on the white silk of his sleeve, grasping his forearm as if she sought protection. He guided her out of the hall and toward the stairs leading to his bedchamber. As he covered Melusine’s hand with his, the warm contact of her soft skin prompted heat to surge through him. All he wanted now was take the spirited maiden to his bed.
A maiden... Jesu! Sigefroi had never deflowered a lass. Other lords used their god-given right to sample any vassal’s bride before her own husband, but Sigefroi had never taken advantage of that privilege. All his wenches had been willing and bold, eager to please him, and he’d always pleasured them without restraint. Would it be much different with a noble maiden? He burned to find out.
Nodding to the guard who opened the bedchamber door, Sigefroi lifted the heavy privacy curtain to let Melusine through, then he barred the door from inside. He wanted no interruption.
Melusine stood in the center of the room, holding her shoulders. Tall candlesticks burned around the vast room, giving off enough light for him to see her. How lovely she looked, like a doe facing the coup de grâce.
His smile came easily. “Cold, my lady?”
When she nodded, he threw a fresh log in the hearth. Bright flames leapt and the fire grew warmer. He wanted to enjoy his prize in total comfort.
Away from the bed, Melusine stood stiffly, as if she didn’t know what to do next.
Sigefroi unbuckled his baldric and hung the sword and belt on a hook jutting out from the bedpost. He sat on the high bed and took the time to pull off his boots, then patted the furs next to him.
“Come sit by me,” he said, as gently as he could.
Melusine still looked like a cornered doe ready to bolt at any sudden move. Her gaze steadied as she considered him for a moment, then she squared her jaw and faced him. “My lord, I’m afraid I’m still shaken by the incident in the hall tonight.”
Remembering the whip, Sigefroi smiled, admiring her candor and her courage. Not many women would dare criticize him.
“It was necessary, my lady. What kind of lord would I be if I let my men disrespect my rule?” He patted the bed again. “Now, let’s forget about it and delve into more pleasant matters.”
“My present mood is hardly conducive to romance, my lord.” Her voice trembled slightly. “Although I know very little of such matters, I understand that few women enjoy the deed when it’s imposed upon them.”
“Imposed?” Sigefroi rolled his eyes in disbelief. “It was your idea to become the lady of this castle. And as such, you belong in my bed.”
“Aye.” She flinched. “But so soon? I don’t feel ready. I never imagined it would be so difficult.”
“Difficult? Are you insulting me?” Sigefroi chuckled to soften the remark. “I could teach you to enjoy it... most women do.”
“I know... I’ve often wanted to try.” A timid smile flashed on her face.
Sigefroi rose from the bed and went to her. He enveloped her in his arms. Her head came to rest on his chest, and he caressed her long, silky hair. She relaxed in his embrace. Lifting her chin with the crook of one finger, he softly brushed her lips with his, willing her to warm up to him.
Her slender arms came around his waist. Short bursts of breath tickled his lips as she answered his feathery kisses with her own, timidly at first, then with more confidence.
Exhilaration filled him, like on the battlefield when victory was nigh. Strengthening his hold on her, he reined in his wild appetite to take the time to ravage her mouth. To his delight, she responded with unbridled ardor.
His mighty sword ached as his hands explored Melusine’s firm curves through the silk gown and smothered her delicate body. She moaned under his kiss, the vibration heightening his desire in a flurry of new sensations.
Jesu! He must slow down, or he would spill his seed like an overwhelmed virgin before pleasuring her. Sigefroi wanted their first joining to be memorable. Breaking their embrace, he scooped her up and laid her among the fur pillows on the pelts covering the bed. With slow, deliberate caresses, he removed her shoes, then kissed her small feet. She didn’t protest but only gazed up at him with liquid eyes that shone like polished river stones in the candlelight.
It seemed that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, but in her innocence, did Melusine realize it? Or was lust so new to her that she couldn’t sort her feelings? He’d make sure she knew she wanted him. He’d make her beg for release.
“Sigefroi?” Hearing her say his name in that husky tone filled him with triumph.
“Aye, Melusine.” His voice sounded rough, too.
She stared at the bulge in his chausses. He was a big man.
Sigefroi lay beside her and pushed back a strand of hair from her face. “Do you trust me to be gentle?”
Melusine closed her eyes as if wrestling with the idea. “I find trusting others most difficult. I’ve seen much betrayal.”
“For one so young it can’t be that much.”
Tears welled at the edge of her closed eyelids.
He wondered what sad memory prompted them but
didn’t ask. Instead, he kissed her tears and landed a string of butterfly kisses on her cheeks, and down her throat. Even when her breath caught, he didn’t stop.
“Let me see you,” he whispered, tugging at her sash. He found the knot and loosened it. Then he lifted the hem of her skirt all the way above her head, so deftly that the sleeves slid off her arms in one motion. “Jesu, you are even more beautiful than I remember from the bridge.”
She blushed, wearing nothing but blue sapphires at her neck! “I was afraid you wouldn’t like my body.”
“How could I possibly not like it?” He caressed her creamy skin slowly, from perfect toes to the inside of shapely thighs, then he brushed the tender side of her arms.
“I like this.” A timid smile curled the corner of her lips and he saw her relax and tense to the rhythm of his methodical strokes.
Aye, she might be a maiden, but she wanted this as much as he did. Sigefroi traced concentric circles around her small breasts, teasing the tiny pink nubs. Then he let his fingers probe lower, toward the dark triangle of soft curls below.
Melusine moved away from his intrusive caress.
“Nay, my sweet.” With one hand Sigefroi pinned both her wrists above her head, then laid a heavy foot to immobilize her leg. “You won’t escape the blissful torment I have in mind for you.”
She arched under his strokes and strained against his hold in vain. She looked so vulnerable. What had become of the fierce warrior who had defeated him in battle? “That’s not fair, my lord!”
“Nothing is fair in love or war, my sweet.” Sigefroi silenced her mild protests with a wanton kiss, ravaging her mouth while his free hand fondled her nether parts.
Melusine shuddered under him and her back arched under his probing fingers. She squirmed, warming to his touch with cries of delight muffled by their kiss. Letting go of her mouth, Sigefroi nipped her lips then kissed her throat and laved her breasts. When he seized one hard nub in his teeth, gently but firmly, harrying it with his tongue, her small cries intensified. Then he let go of her breast.
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