He bowed once, and the matter was done.
* * *
—
“HOW ARE YOU feeling, truly?” Faulke asked.
I put one hand to my forehead. “Better than I expected.”
We were in the solar again, this time with my ladies, Richard, and a few soldiers. Faulke took the seat next to me and filled his goblet from the ewer on the table. He gave the goblet a suspicious sniff. “What is this?”
“Apple cider,” I replied, unable to contain a small shudder. “Stronger drink is off the table for now.”
He smiled in understanding. “Do you feel up to a walk?”
I shook my head.
“Very well,” he said, leaning back in his chair. After that, we spoke more of his daughters, their life at Hawksforth, and how it would change once I was there. He spoke as if there had never been any question that we would remain together.
The more he talked about the future, the more uncomfortable I became. I blamed the aftereffects of the wine for my edgy restlessness, but in my heart I knew its source sat next to me. My heart shouldn’t try to fly from my chest each time he touched me, but it did. Every time I looked at him, I thought of the intimate things he had done to my body in the days after our wedding, some in this very room.
“Are you all right?” he asked at one point.
His fingers were doing that annoyingly delicious tracing thing on my hand again. He looked only mildly interested in my answer, so I just nodded. As he turned to Richard to discuss some matters, my gaze moved to my ladies, who were practicing French. I wasn’t paying them much attention, but it helped to look at something other than my perfectly polite husband.
The hours slowly disappeared with the sun. I tried to take Faulke’s lead, to pretend we were nothing more than amiable partners. Keeping up the pretense was exhausting. By the time the evening meal was cleared away, I could no longer contain my yawns. Part of me hoped he would depart for his own quarters so I could finally collapse into bed. Another part of me wanted to delay his departure, although why I wanted to prolong the torture of sitting next to him was beyond me. I just knew that I would miss him when he left for the night. I would probably start crying.
“Take your leave, all of you.” He was staring into my eyes when he spoke, and I felt a moment of panic. Did he mean me, too? He snagged my wrist and held me in place when I went to rise. “Your lady and I wish to be alone for the night.”
Well, that cleared things up for everyone. Hilda gave me a sly look and actually elbowed Blanche in the ribs when the other woman loitered. Hoops were abandoned, guards made one last sweep of the room. Within minutes, we were alone.
Faulke refilled our goblets with cider. “Are things settled between us after last night?”
“What do you mean?” My heart began to beat faster.
“Richard tells me you have forgiven Gerhardt,” he said. He picked up my hand and turned it over to kiss my wrist. There was a subtle lift of his lips. “He also says that Gerhardt announced his intention to become Richard’s friend.”
I tried to concentrate on what he was saying, and not what his lips felt like when he smiled against my skin. I looked at the table and strung the words together in my head. Gerhardt was so literal. Of course he would announce his plan to Richard to become his friend. In his mind, that would be the most logical step toward accomplishing his goal.
“Did you have something to do with Gerhardt’s change of heart about us?”
“I told him that he must pledge you his loyalty, and that anyone who wants to stay in my service should plan to learn your language and become part of your household. Become Segraves.” I looked to where our hands were still joined. “I also told him that Richard intends to become Gerhardt’s brother-in-law. Has…has Richard spoken to you about Gretchen?”
Faulke nodded. “He told me his intentions before they handfasted.”
“I didn’t keep that a secret from you on purpose.” I squeezed his hand to emphasize my sincerity. “When you asked if I were keeping anything else secret, I simply hadn’t thought of it at the time. Truly, it was an oversight.”
Sapphire eyes met mine, and I felt myself falling into a deep blue sea. “All right.”
All right? I leaned away from him a little and studied his expression. He looked…hungry. Or maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see. I couldn’t stand the suspense anymore.
“You said this morning that you intend to keep me.” My voice sounded like an accusation. Now I wasn’t entirely sure what he had said, since I had felt quite ill at the time. “You will not change your mind?”
Faulke shook his head. He turned his chair to face mine and took both my hands in his. “When we leave London, we leave together.”
I nodded, suddenly more appreciative of Gerhardt’s misery this afternoon when I had called him into the solar. I had thought for the past hours about what I wanted to say. The whole of my confession came out almost as quickly as the wine had this morning.
“I had no choice,” I said. “My father insisted that I might still have children, if God willed it, so I wouldn’t really be lying. But Hartman’s children with Maria convinced me I was wrong, that it would be unfair to trap you in a childless marriage. Then I would think of the war that might result if we didn’t wed, of all the soldiers lying dead on battlefields, fathers and husbands and brothers, and the families that would starve without them, fields of charred crops, fortresses in ruins. My father promised I could move to one of my other estates when you learned the truth and turned me out or became violent.”
His mouth flattened at the last part. “You planned to leave me?”
“Of course,” I said. “You would despise me. What reason would you have to keep me, other than to make my life a misery? I even hoped you might agree to let me go peacefully.”
“So, my reaction yesterday was not what you expected?”
“You ordered me not to touch you,” I reminded him. “That was expected. What followed was not. It never occurred to me that you had known more of the truth than me all along, that you would gamble so much on just the possibility of a child. I didn’t consider your alternatives, that your reputation would prevent you from finding another bride, that my father would continue to tax you until you were beggars.”
His mouth curved downward. “You are not the only one who anticipated the wrong reaction.”
“What do you mean?” I tilted my head, and then was sorry when a wave of dizziness struck. Stupid wine.
“As your husband, everything you own is now mine, to do with as I wish, all but the entailed lands and titles. I told you that I intend to plunder your wealth, and my father is plotting to wrest your land and titles from the next king to keep them in our hands. You didn’t seem very upset by those facts.”
“People have used me all of my life,” I said with a shrug. “My parents, Hartman’s parents, Hartman, even my own people. It was never me they wanted, but what I represented. I knew going into this marriage that my wealth and connections were the main lures for you, along with the titles and estates.” I recalled his father’s plan to ingratiate himself with my brother. “I also understand your father’s intention to become one of my brother’s favorites. We are royals. People use us. I would expect no less of you.”
His eyebrows slammed down, but he had no argument for the truth.
“Why should I be angry?” I asked. “I would do the same, if I were you. Indeed, I had expected no less on that score, although I did not anticipate the plan to gain my brother’s favor.” I thought about that plan. My father did not have the time to guide my young brother or mold him into a king. Anselm Segrave had many skills and connections that would serve my brother well over the years. A closer relationship between our families would mean the future king would have closer ties to all of the barons in the Welsh marches. That could only prove useful
to my brother in the future. “Perhaps we could visit Maldon before we go to Wales, and introduce your father to my brother during that visit? The rest will be up to your father, of course.”
He shook his head, but not to disagree. “I never know what to expect from you.”
“What do you mean?”
He growled deep in his throat. “I told you the truth; my father intends to use your brother. Why would you help that to happen?”
“Does your father intend to be a false friend to my brother?”
“Of course not. He intends to help the boy, in any way he can. No man in England could provide the future king with a better military education than my father. He is a brilliant strategist.”
“Why would I deny my brother that opportunity?” I shrugged again. “When I agree with your goals, I will help you. If it is within my means to do so.”
He picked up his goblet and contemplated the contents for a long time. “This marriage is not anything I imagined it would be.”
My heart sped up a little, wondering what he had imagined. Someone prettier, I supposed. Probably a more biddable wife, one who didn’t break his trust before they were even wed. Well, that was too bad. We were stuck with each other, and I couldn’t find it in myself to be sorry.
This marriage wasn’t anything I had envisioned, either. Faulke had accepted me, even knowing the chance of an heir was unlikely. He seemed to value my opinion. He had been kind to me. My heart still did crazy things around him. I had expected none of that.
The days after our wedding…it was impossible not to think about them. A whole new world had opened for me, if only for a few days. I didn’t know how we would move forward, how much of our time alone had been a pretense on his part, just to ensure that none could ever question the validity of our marriage. I was almost afraid to find out. Happy endings had never been my specialty.
I folded my hands in my lap and stared down at them as I muttered, “I am not sorry we wed.”
“You are mine now, Isabel.” His big hands cupped my face and he waited until I looked up at him. “Only death will take you from me.”
His claims calmed my nerves, but I wanted more. I wanted him to make me his again, to leave physical marks of his claims on my body. Ach. He had made me a harlot.
“What must I say to make you believe me?” he whispered as he searched my face. When I leaned toward him, he didn’t wait for an answer. His lips found mine and he kissed me, gentle at first, and then his tongue explored the seam of my lips and I opened to him. Then his mouth claimed mine, demanding my own hungry response.
He held my head in place, but I ran my hands down the front of his tunic, wishing it would disappear. His hands left my face to capture my wrists and hold them away. His forehead dropped to mine.
“You said your father’s soldiers would help you leave me,” he said. His voice was rough, his breath ragged. His grip on my wrists tightened. “Did you intend to leave me by force?”
“What? No.” I tried to lean away but he held me in place. “I asked for that provision in case you turned violent when I didn’t give you an heir. I had no idea who you were. I did not want to live with a man who could beat me whenever he wished.”
“I would never hurt you,” Faulke murmured. His breath shuddered across my face, and then he used his hold on my wrists to pull me to my feet. He tugged my hands around his waist as his lips found mine for a kiss that sealed his promise.
I thought he’d never kiss me like this again, and I still didn’t quite trust that it wasn’t some fevered dream. Good or bad, I’d known my future husband would loom large in my life. I’d expected the worst. I couldn’t let it go. “You were supposed to hate me.”
The depths of his eyes turned stormy. He stared down at my mouth and his finger traced the outline of my lips. “I didn’t want to care for you, but no one has ever felt so right in my arms.” Those arms went around me, and I luxuriated in the feel of his hands on me. They clasped my buttocks and he lifted me against him. My skirts were wide enough that I managed to wrap my legs around him, grinding my hips into him, because even being that close wasn’t close enough. I pressed kisses along the column of his neck. There was no longer any doubt. He still wanted me. “Mm. Everything about you feels so right, and yet you still drive me crazy.”
His head fell back and my mouth explored the strong column of his throat until my tongue darted out, and then he groaned and dropped his head to my shoulder.
“We were fated, kitten.” His whiskers rasped against my neck and I wanted to rub against him with my whole body. “I felt it the first moment we met. You did, too.”
“Aye.” I leaned back in his arms, and it was his turn to trail shiver-worthy kisses from my ear to my shoulder, and then his lips went lower to trace the sensitive skin above my bodice. He cupped my breast and rubbed the nipple through my gown, sending sparks of lightning through my body. I had to admit, the mewls that came from me would do a kitten proud.
I felt a rocking motion and realized he was carrying me into our bedchamber. He lifted me a little and then dumped me unceremoniously onto the bed. His knee landed between mine, his weight on my skirt trapping me in place.
“I can’t get enough of you.” His hands began to unlace my gown and then he growled in frustration. “It was torture to lie beside you last night and not take you.”
“That probably would have ended badly,” I said, thinking about the chamber pot.
I felt movement and realized he was unlacing his pants. A moment later, my skirt was pulled up to my waist and his weight covered me. I felt the hot tip of him press against me. Nothing had ever felt so wicked, being almost fully clothed, feeling him press into the most intimate part of me. I made some more kitten noises, and then chanted his name when he finally seated himself within me, buried himself deep. He made a rumbling sound in his chest, then lifted himself to rest his weight on his arms.
“I want to stay with you like this always.”
I began to smile.
“You feel like home to me, kitten.”
I began to cry.
This time the tears weren’t embarrassing. No sobs, no runny nose, just the slow trickle of tears from the corners of my eyes. He leaned down and licked away one of the tears, and my body clenched around his. His forehead dropped to my shoulder and he released a shuddering breath. “Don’t ever leave me. I need you. All of you. The haughty princess. The innocent girl. The sexy kitten. You are everything I never knew I needed.”
Ach! “I am in love with you!”
My eyes widened when I realized I had said that aloud, and also because he swelled inside me at the same time I said it, and then he pulled back and buried himself deeper than I had imagined was possible.
“Oh!”
“Say it again.”
I bit my lower lip. He pulled out until just his tip rested against me, and then he tugged on the loosened laces of my gown until one breast popped free. He licked and bit a path to the hardened nipple, and then made my hips thrash against him when his mouth closed around me, but he had me pinned and he stayed just beyond where I wanted him.
“Say it again,” he repeated, his voice slightly muffled by my breast.
I knew I was being manipulated. Then again, I wasn’t certain I minded. He claimed my mouth again, his kisses deep and greedy, fierce and possessive. His hands were all over me, tugging at my clothes in frustration. I got the feeling he wanted to touch me everywhere at once, and for that he wanted me entirely naked. I wanted him naked, too, but settled for slipping my hands under his tunic and stroking his back.
His mouth scorched a trail to my neck. He lifted himself again to work on freeing my other breast. His lips curved upward when he accomplished his task. My toes curled when his mouth closed over the newly exposed nipple, and I realized my slippers were still on. More mewling ensued, but he still he
ld himself away from me.
“Please,” I whispered, growing frantic.
“You are breaking your promise,” he said between bites and licks to soothe the bites.
I stilled at the accusation. “What promise?”
“You agreed to do everything I said when we are alone together, to follow every command without question.”
I looked up into his eyes and allowed myself to relax as much as was possible under the circumstances. There was a trace of humor in his eyes.
“Kitten?”
Ach, I loved his name for me. My hips rose against him again, and once again he pulled away from me. I frowned my frustration.
“Do you love me?” he repeated.
Of course I did. I stared into his blue eyes and realized a part of me already lived inside of him. He was right; he was everything my heart never knew it wanted. I would be devastated if he ever turned against me, if he ever left me. I had been relieved when Hartman ordered me to leave him. I wondered if I would even survive if Faulke ever issued a similar order.
“ ’Tis more,” I whispered.
“More than what?” he asked.
I lifted my hand to his cheek, gazing into a deep blue sea that I wanted to explore for the rest of my life. “More than love.”
We held each other’s gazes for a heartbeat, and then his mouth and body lowered to mine at the same time. He took me tenderly, possessively, his hands gentle, yet he held me tightly enough to leave bruises. He claimed me all over again.
I was fully naked by the time I was drowsily thinking about just how satisfying a husband I had. Sleep was just a breath away as I thought of wicked ways to wake him the next morning. My eyes popped open and I sat up.
“No spells!”
“Hm?” His voice was gravelly and sleepy.
“Not one,” I said, more as a revelation to myself. I nudged his shoulder and repeated my astonishing news. “I didn’t have a spell this time.”
His eyes cracked open. “Blow out the candle and lie back down. I want to hold you.”
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