by Ling, Maria
She desired him. Completely. And she couldn't wait, didn't want to wait, couldn't bear to leave all such pleasures aside until the children grew up. Though if it grieved them, or harmed them in any way -- but she watched them now, comfortable and at ease, confident as in their father's house. And he wasn't far away, a short ride, they would see him often. Daily, if they chose. It would be no betrayal on her part, to follow the wishes of her own body and heart.
A silence spread around her, for no reason that she knew of. And then words formed into the silence, clear and pure and certain. The voice of a poet, long since dead, speaking exactly what she felt.
'I will give you all that I am, and all that I have, that I can only be with you. And if you wish for friendship only, if the joys of the body are not yet ours to share, then tell me this and I shall be content. If you hesitate, I shall be patient. If you wish to make ready first, beloved, then I shall wait. I shall wait.'
Maud smiled at Geoffrey, passion mingled with amusement at so cunning a choice for the first task of his new reader. And she mouthed the words back at him, even as the reader spoke again.
'But not forever.'
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CHAPTER 9
"Here." Geoffrey led the way, eyes alight with that mixture of humour and desire Maud found so irresistible. Though she had resisted so far -- or to be fair, she'd had no pressure to resist. Geoffrey hadn't gone further than a breathless kiss, a slow caress, he'd never come to her at night. As she'd half hoped, and half feared -- not for any lack of desire, but because she was not yet certain that the time was right.
They had all settled into their new life, more peacefully than she could have hoped. The children seemed happier than ever before, as if some great weight had eased from their shoulders. Maud herself was happier, too. She could see Henry with equanimity now, and hardly less frequently than before. Both he and the children were forever riding back and forth, hunting or dining together. She also. And Geoffrey.
Who held her hand now, light and warm of touch as always. Gave her that sudden hot glance that never failed to weaken her knees and make her long to throw herself into his embrace.
"A hunting lodge?" Maud looked around her with sheer delight. The building had once been a barn, part of a farm now divided up between adjoining tenants, and resting against the shared patch of woodland that Geoffrey and Henry maintained for deer by common consent. "Henry had something like it once, but of course Alice lives there now." Maud blushed a little as the implications became clear to her. But Geoffrey only smiled, and pointed out the new roof.
"I thought we'd be comfortable here," he said in a light tone. "Saves bustle at the house."
And prying eyes, Maud thought. And whispered gossip. Though there must be enough of that already, given how much time she spent with him.
But never alone. Even now, they were not alone. Grooms and servants behind, and one of her lady attendants eyeing the lodge with evident approval.
It was a pleasant spot. Sunny, opening to the south and sheltered from the north by the mass of trees. Humming with insects now, while a lazy late-summer air hung sultry over the meadow grass.
"I like it," Maud said decisively. She did, it was truth. And a sudden resolve came over her to be the lady of this place, as she never quite felt able to be in hall. Rather as Alice was lady of her own lodge, not far away: just beyond the low ridge that marked the edge of Henry's territory. They did not visit often, though Maud had called there and received Alice graciously as Geoffrey's guest in hall.
"Good," Geoffrey said. "Let me show you the inside."
It was clean swept and neatly done up, with fresh-plastered walls and curtains hung over newly shuttered windows. A wooden staircase let up to a half loft above, set out with simple chairs and a cushioned corner seat.
All entirely innocent. Not a bed in sight. Yet as she watched Geoffrey's faint smile, Maud became increasingly certain that this would be a place just for them.
"Very comfortable," she said, and prodded a cushion. Thick and well padded, providing a luxurious rest for tired limbs.
"Glad to hear it." Geoffrey smiled openly now. They were alone for a moment, wonderfully alone, while the attendants explored the room below.
Maud slipped close to him. They could not be seen here, not unless someone chose to stand right by the far wall and turn to stare, and such impertinence she did not expect from anyone in Geoffrey's pay. From accidental glances, the floor and rail concealed them well.
Geoffrey wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, gently but deeply, lingering on every touch. Her body awakened to renewed desire, which flooded warm through her veins and drove a rush through her breath that he answered with his own.
"Tell me this is our place," Maud whispered against his mouth.
"If you like." Geoffrey stroked her arms with his fingertips. "Or it can be a simple hunting lodge, if you prefer. Or both. I am yours to command."
"The perfect gentleman."
"One tries." He released her, half turned away. "All conveniences, you see. Board games. Even books, in case the weather turns inclement."
"What kind of books?" Maud asked eagerly, following the track of his gesture. Love poetry, she was certain, she knew her man by now. He would speak to her in verse, even yet, while they could not speak plainly in words nor luxuriantly in the language of the body.
"Some few things I've picked up." There was an odd sheen to his eyes, expectant almost, she could believe he had made this all for her. For her delight, or theirs rather, his own and hers together. Still a strange thought, that, attractive, but not yet familiar. "Also a collection of my own making," he added, handing her a smooth-worn binding. "You will excuse the poor workmanship, I'm sure."
It was an old cover made over, she could see the line where the former edge had been. Inside, the pages more than usually mismatched, but neatly trimmed to an even size and bound together firmly. Maud turned the volume over in her hands, reverent almost. His own favourite poems, perhaps, gathered together for sharing with her. And yet there was something about him -- an air of almost mischievous expectation, as if he were taking some great gamble and savoured the uncertainty of the outcome.
Curious, and oddly excited, Maud opened the book. Read the first poem, and caught her breath -- it was the one he had first used to call her 'beloved'. Leafed on, to find more amorous yet delicate allusion, recognised some pages but not others, this was a collection to win her heart. Ventured further, into the realms of physical love, and further yet, and discovered that even a mature mother past thirty still remembered how to blush.
"We may not reach the later pages," Geoffrey said. "That is all according to your wish. I am entirely at your disposal."
Maud flicked on eagerly, bit her lip, turned to the final page and let out a gasp. "We most certainly will," she told him firmly.
"I love you," Geoffrey said. Quietly, with deep gravity, nothing like his usual smooth self. All the passion of all the poets in the world lay within his eyes. It was hers for the taking, she need only breathe a word.
She laid the book aside, carefully. Stepped into his arms and kissed him, breathless with desire.
"We shall certainly read them," she whispered. "Alone here, on rainy days. Page by page."
***
About the Author:
Maria Ling lives on the edge of a moor in Yorkshire, England, surrounded by ruined abbeys and haunted caves. Visit her Smashwords author page for more stories.
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Also by this author:
LADY KNIGHT
Maria Ling
Her smile faltered. She stared back at him with widening eyes, a deep mossy brown softer than he could ever have imagined. Her lips tempted him, too, slightly parted, he could bend his face to hers and --
Christ and Holy Mother Mary. This wasn't on, he couldn't fall for her. Not a fellow knight, which she was -- hard as he longed to regard her as a woman and a bedmate. They'd meet on the battlefield again, at the next tourne
y or the next, he couldn't...
Maybe he could.
After all, he'd seriously thought about seducing her.
But not like this. It would have been a fun encounter, all pleasure and no commitment. And she'd have to be married, he'd sworn that to himself. But she wasn't, he'd swear to that now, there must have been some mention of the man before this moment. Even if he wasn't here -- which he would be, surely. What man of blood and flesh could stay away from her side?
No, she was single, and glorious, and he desired her beyond anything he'd felt for a woman before. Which he couldn't show her, of course, she'd laugh at him or despise him or worse...
Worse, she'd respond in the way his quick imagination promised that she would, all passion and lust and fierce enjoyment, and then...
Guillaume swallowed what felt like a knuckle in his throat.
Then he'd never let her go. Never relax his grip for an instant. Because if once he got close to her, so close as to make the two of them become one...
"Take it outside." Roland, God and all the saints damn him straight to hell, chose that moment to butt in. "I like a good punch-up as much as anyone else, but some of us prefer to eat in peace."
Tournament champion Guillaume has no mercy on rival knights - except for the one who is also the most ravishing woman he has ever beheld. But Matilda scorns chivalry, and aims to defeat him on the battlefield. Which means he must use other skills entirely, if he's to vanquish both her body and her heart.
Available now from Smashwords or your preferred ebook retailer.
***
Also by this author:
THE TOURNAMENT PRIZE
Maria Ling
She didn't know how she'd recognised him, whether from the proud tilt of the head or the ready tension of his bearing. But she held her breath as he paraded at a measured step down the length of the stand. His horse danced a little as he paused in front of her and dipped his lance. Caroline smiled and bowed acknowledgement, flushed with the warmth that thrilled down her body and rippled over her skin.
Almost she thought she'd like a suitor, now.
Not that she wished to marry. She couldn't bear to imagine the carnal meeting of the bedchamber. The moment she placed a real man within those bounds, the notion chilled her. She couldn't bring herself to believe there was any such thing as true desire, flesh to flesh and skin to skin.
Mother said that with the right man, her body would know its own wishes and how to satisfy them. Which made Caroline more determined than ever to keep men away. Never to marry. Because she couldn't bear to imagine herself desiring a man, and showing it, and worse still, allowing him to... satisfy her.
She fixed her attention fully on Alan, who had reached the far end of the lists and turned to face his opponent.
Alan de la Falaise, the best young tourney knight in Flanders, has set his heart on marrying Caroline de Louvain - and he will not brook defeat. But Caroline prides herself on her firmness of mind, and she has sworn never to marry. Alan must summon all he knows of battlefield tactics to win the greatest prize of his career.
Available now from Smashwords or your preferred ebook retailer.
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