Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume II

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Jeniver was listening to him intently, surprised he was revealing something so personal to her. She thought very carefully on her reply.

  “Do you feel as if your grief has eased in time?” she asked softly. “I… I think I am still in shock. All of this… everything that has happened… it is still shocking. I will wake up tomorrow to wonder if it has all been a dream.”

  Gallus pulled something out of the wardrobe and stepped away from it. His expression was somber. “Nay,” he muttered. “It is not a dream. Your father is badly injured and you are now my wife. But I will make you a promise… I will do all I can not to add to your grief. I will try to make this marriage as pleasant as possible.”

  “As will I.”

  “Then let us hope we are both true to our pledges.”

  Jeniver simply nodded, looking at her hands as they were folded on her lap. “What will happen now?” she asked after a moment.

  He looked at her as he began to pull off his tunic. “What do you mean?”

  She sighed heavily. What did she mean? “I assume that I am to live here now,” she said. “Many of my possessions are still at Rhydilian Castle and I should like to retrieve them someday if we are not to live there. And what will happen to Rhydilian? If my father passes, it will belong to you.”

  He pulled the tunic over his head and went to work on the mail he was wearing. “We do not have to worry about that tonight,” he said as he bent over and shook off the mail coat. “We can discuss all of that when I return from London.”

  She looked at him, then. “You are leaving?”

  He nodded. “I am expected in London,” he said. “I should have left today but circumstances prevented it. I have business in London and I am not sure how long it will keep me there.”

  Jeniver thought on his departure. “Then… then you are leaving me here?”

  The mail coat was draped over a wooden frame and he began to unfasten the ties of his sweaty, dirty under tunic. “Your father is here,” he reminded her. “If he survives this injury, he will not be able to travel for quite some time. Moreover, my mother is here. You will be a good companion for her. She likes you.”

  Jeniver wasn’t pleased with the idea of being left at Isenhall while he went off to London. It was a strange place, with strange people. She liked Lady Honey, that was true, but she didn’t want to remain behind. She wanted to take her father and go home.

  “Forgive me, but I see no reason why I must remain here if you are leaving for London,” she said. “As soon as my father can travel, I would like to take him home. You did promise me an escort for that purpose.”

  He shook his head. “That was before you were the Countess of Coventry,” he said. “This country is in some form of turmoil right now. You would be an excellent prize to those who oppose me.”

  Jeniver had no idea what he was speaking of. “I do not understand,” she said. “Who opposes you?”

  He pulled his dirty under tunic off, revealing his spectacular naked chest. He was broad of shoulder, with a muscled chest, massive arms and neck, and a trim torso. In fact, Jeniver was so surprised by all of the nude male flesh that was suddenly in her field of vision that she nearly fell off the bed. Worse still, he was heading in her direction and she stumbled to her feet as he reached over her and pulled back the coverlet.

  “You will understand, in time,” he told her. “But I do not find that appropriate talk for my wedding night. Shall we retire?”

  Jeniver was backing away from the bed, overwhelmed by the sight and scent of a half-naked man. She had been calm until this moment, but now, she was suddenly very nervous.

  “Why?” she blurted.

  Gallus looked at her, amused. “Because that is what married people do on their wedding night,” he said. He could see her apprehension quite clearly. “You needn’t be afraid. I promise I will be gentle.”

  She knew exactly what he meant and her cheeks flamed a dull shade of red. She turned her back on him so he would not see her level of embarrassment. She wasn’t daft. She knew that the marriage was expected to be consummated and she’d known that all along, but the reality of it was quite different. His naked flesh against mine…

  “But… but we were coming to know one another,” she stammered. “I thought we would continue… talking for a while.”

  “How long did you wish to talk?”

  “A… a while.”

  “All night?”

  She simply shrugged, knowing she sounded like an idiot, and Gallus fought off a grin. He could hear the nervousness in her voice. Her back was to him and he thought that perhaps leaving her to fear the unknown was the worst thing he could do. The longer they delayed, possibly the more upset she would become. Quietly, he moved up behind her, standing close enough that he could feel her body heat against his. For a man who hadn’t known sexual relations for over a year, he was instantly aroused. He couldn’t help it.

  “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable,” he whispered. “I know this is frightening, made worse by the fact that you do not know me. If you wish to talk all night, then we shall. But I hope you will at least allow me to show you the more pleasant aspects of marriage.”

  Jeniver could feel him against her back and her breathing started coming in heavy pants. She couldn’t control it. Trembling, she started to rub her arms, as if chilled.

  “I… I do not even know where to start,” she stuttered.

  His smile turned seductive even though she couldn’t see it. “Will you allow me to show you?”

  She could only nod. She was frightened, that was true, but there was also an element of excitement to what she was feeling, something she couldn’t adequately explain. It all had to do with Gallus’ proximity to her, the tone of his voice, and the manly, musky scent he seemed to give off. As she stood there and trembled, Gallus lowered his head and gently kissed her on a small area of bared shoulder.

  Jeniver gasped at the gesture, something that sent bolts of lightning through her body. It weakened her knees. Gallus must have sensed her excitement because his arms went about her waist, holding her fast as his lips suckled on her shoulder, moving swiftly to her neck. Jeniver, having never experienced such a thing in her life, lost her balance and toppled back into him. Gallus simply picked her up, his mouth attached to her neck, and put her, belly down, onto the bed.

  He stretched his big body on top of her, arms still around her as his kisses grew more forceful. She was supple, soft, and incredibly delicious. The more she gasped, from both excitement and perhaps astonishment, the more aroused he became. Soon, the arms around her torso were moving and his hands moved to her round, full breasts, fondling them through her dress. He could feel her nipples harden, reacting to his touch, and it drove him mad with desire. As Jeniver cried out softly with surprise as well as passion, he bit down gently on her shoulder where it joined to her neck, suckling furiously.

  But it didn’t stop there. He knew he’d left a mark but he didn’t care. All he could think of was bedding the woman, of burying himself within her body, and the hands that were gently fondling her breasts began to move to her skirts. He began to hike them up, his mouth still on her neck and using his body weight to keep her pinned to the mattress. As the skirts came up, his hands stroked her soft thighs, tender and white. Beneath him, Jeniver’s breathing had become one long gasp of pleasure and discovery. He didn’t know if she was frightened or nervous any longer. She wasn’t acting as if she was. She wasn’t stopping him. She was simply letting him do as he pleased.

  The skirts came up, exposing her soft, white buttocks to him. Gallus’ hands were on her flesh but the moment he caught sight of her rounded bottom, perfectly shaped, his mouth left her neck and he immediately planted his face on her tender, smooth behind. He heard Jeniver yelp as he began to suckle and nibble at them, but she wasn’t trying to pull away. She was simply holding fast to the coverlet for support as Gallus lost himself in her delicious backside. Biting gently, fondling, and suckling, he feasted on her.<
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  But he was feasting with a purpose. The jewel he sought must be prepared for his conquest. Otherwise, it would be painful and uncomfortable for her. He pulled her thighs apart, being presented with the target he sought. Covered by a soft matting of dark curls, he could see that she was already wet and waiting for his entry. Her body understood his actions even if her mind did not. As he returned his mouth to her soft buttocks, his fingers began to probe the damp curls.

  Jeniver startled, shifted, and nearly pulled away but Gallus held her fast. He inserted a finger into her, listening to her grunt and gasp, and he began to mimic the act of lovemaking, thrusting his fingers in and out of her body, acquainting her with his touch. On her belly, Jeniver buried her face in the coverlet, panting and squirming as Gallus put his fingers in her. In fact, he had prepared her so well for his eventual entry that when he finally made the move and carefully thrust his manhood into her from behind, she hardly realized what he was doing. Only when he thrust harder and she experienced a slight stab of pain as her maidenhood breached did she realized he had entered her, as a husband enters a wife.

  Gallus lay down on top of her as he began the slow, steady thrusts within her. She was still fully clothed from the waist up but her skirts were up around her waist, her lower body nude to him, and he found it incredibly arousing. In a sense, perhaps it was easier for her to accept because she couldn’t see any naked bodies – hers or his – and all she could feel was utter pleasure. Her mind was free to wander, to experience this act of a husband upon a wife, without embarrassment. She wasn’t nervous any longer. She was coming to enjoy it.

  Gallus’ thrusts began to increase in speed and in power, his hands moving underneath her to hold her pelvis against his. It was an experience beyond what he could have ever imagined, something sweet and arousing more than he had ever experienced. When his fingers began to stroke the fluff of curls between her legs, Jeniver instinctively opened her legs wider and Gallus swooped in, driving himself deeper.

  His fingers, seeking, brought her to her first release quickly as her pants of pleasure filled the chamber. He could hear her weeping softly, with both pleasure and surprise, the surprise of experiencing something she had never known before. It was enough to throw him over the edge and, after a series of hard thrusts, he released himself deep into her body.

  Even after he climaxed, he continued to move simply because the sensations were so delicious. Slowly, he stroked in and out of her, his mouth gently kissing her neck. He was lost in a warm liquid afterglow, reveling in the first coupling with his new wife. He was stunned to realize how beautiful it had been and how incredibly alluring the woman was. Up until a few minutes ago, he had thought of it as a duty and nothing more. In just that brief span of time, it had become much more than a duty. It had becoming overwhelming, emotions bonding him to the woman like he’d never felt before. That was when the guilt and confusion set in, swamping him.

  You can’t feel anything for another woman! It nearly killed you when Catheryn died! You cannot feel something for Jeniver!

  Christ… you already feel something for her!

  When Jeniver awoke in the morning, her husband was missing. She found out from Honey that he had left for London before dawn without a word of farewell.

  PART TWO

  OMINOUS TIDINGS

  February

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Braidwood Manor, London

  Headquarters of the barons in opposition to Henry III

  The meeting had been going on for hours in the large reception room of Braidwood, London home of the House of de Russe, who were major players in the resistance against the king. Although this was where they usually met, barons opposed to the king and his policies, today’s meeting had been particularly long and particularly edgy.

  It was nearing evening now as the sun cast shades of pink and gold across the sky, but the lateness of the hour hadn’t dampened the anger and shouting going on. In truth, the anger and shouting had been going on since Gallus and his brothers had arrived in London two weeks prior. If the barons weren’t angry with the king then they were angry with each other, and Hugh Bigod was particularly furious with Gallus. When the man had shown up and announced his marriage, all pleasantries flew out the window.

  Hughston de Russe was a very big man with an unruly crown of dark, curly hair. He had hands the size of a trencher and in battle he used them like a hammer. Hughston had seen nearly forty years and was a close ally with Bigod and de Montfort. He allowed the barons to use his home to confer in because it was a fortified manor, highly protected, and very close to the heart of London. Normally, he was a gracious host and wise moderator but today he found himself breaking up repeated arguments with Hugh Bigod going after Gallus. The entire day had been filled with attacks, retreats, and then more verbal attacks.

  Although Hughston was not unsympathetic to Bigod in the sense that Gallus de Shera had married quite suddenly when Hugh, in fact, had been grooming the man to marry his daughter for months, even he was at the end of his patience when, at sundown, Bigod went on the offensive again in the middle of a meeting that had absolutely nothing to do with marriage. They had been discussing a particular Savoyard count in Henry’s court who had been scheming to gain lands in Norfolk, but when Bigod made a snarling comment about Gallus and how he would not ally himself with a man who lacked honor, Hughston slammed down the heavy pewter cup in his hand. Wine splashed out onto the tabletop.

  “Hugh,” he boomed. “I have heard the last of your negative comments against Gallus so for here and for all, I will put an end to this. We are here to discuss issues against the king, not your wounded pride. Are you truly attempting to provoke de Shera? He has not committed a crime by marrying another woman. Did you even have a formal contract with him?”

  Hugh, a very spoilt nobleman with delusions of grandeur and a great deal of power behind him, frowned at Hughston.

  “He knew of my desire for him to wed my daughter,” he said, avoiding the question. “He has deliberately slandered me and the entire House of Bigod by marrying this… this Welsh woman. I cannot believe my ears! A woman from Wales! How can I not feel slandered?”

  Gallus was watching the exchange carefully. He had been careful since he’d informed Bigod of his marriage upon his arrival to London two weeks ago. But that had been the last time he’d had a rational conversation with Hugh because the man was furious beyond reason. Gallus had tried to explain for the first couple of days. He’d even sent Tiberius, whom everyone loved, to try and explain it to the man, but Bigod had run Tiberius away on the tip of a sword. After that, Gallus stopped trying to explain anything at all. If Bigod was going to be ridiculous, then Gallus would let him, but it seemed to be coming to a head now. He was curious to know if de Russe would defend him or turn against him.

  De Russe, however, had little patience for Bigod’s behavior, too. He rolled his eyes at the man’s complaining.

  “Great Bloody Christ,” he hissed. Then, he looked at Gallus. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself? If you do not explain your actions, Hugh will not let us continue in peace, so you had better explain to the man why you did not marry his daughter.”

  Gallus wasn’t feeling entirely compliant at the moment. In fact, he was bloody well angry for the way he’d been treated over the past two weeks by Bigod. The other barons merely congratulated him on his marriage and little more, so it was clear the only person who was offended by his marriage was, in fact, Bigod. True, he’d never liked the man much but now he liked him even less. He warily eyed Maximus, Tiberius, and his four knights, who had accompanied him to London, before speaking.

  “I have tried to explain my reasons to him,” he said, looking at Hughston. “He did not want to listen. He seems only to want to shout to the world that he feels insulted and slandered that I should choose another woman over his daughter.”

  Bigod started to bark but Hughston held out a hand to silence him. “He will not speak,” de Russe assured him. “I gi
ve you my word. If you would please tell us of your marriage, I would be grateful.”

  Gallus shook his head at the ridiculousness of it all. “I have been in London for two bloody weeks,” he said, frustrated. “And now you want to hear all about it? For two weeks I have been berated by a spoilt man and now you want to hear? If anyone has a right to feel insulted in this room, it is me.”

  Hughston sighed faintly. “You have every right to be upset,” he agreed. “For the love of God, please tell us of your marriage so we can get on with more important business.”

  Gallus eyed Hughston before fixing his gaze on Bigod, who was gazing back at him with an angry red face. To see the man so infuriated riled Gallus. He could feel his dander go up, struggling to remain on an even keel. He made Hugh wait, and he made everyone in the room wait, until he was ready to speak on the subject. His silence conveyed his extreme displeasure in the behavior he’d been subjected to.

  “Last month, Gaerwen ap Gaerwen, the hereditary King of Anglesey, was traveling through my lands,” he began, his voice loud and firm. “He and his daughter were traveling home from a trip to France. Whilst traversing my lands, they were set upon by bandits and Gaerwen was badly wounded. As he lie injured and presumably dying, he begged me to marry his daughter so she would be taken care of. My mother, the dowager countess of Coventry, accepted on my behalf without my permission. Not wanting to shame my mother, I married Gaerwen’s daughter, the Lady Jeniver. She is a hereditary princess of Anglesey and a member of the House of Gwynedd. No offense to Hugh Bigod, but I am sure even he can see the wisdom of such a union. She brings Anglesey with her, which will be a great ally for our cause.”

  By that point, every man in the room was looking at him with varied degrees of surprise and approval. Hughston, who was one of those with an approving expression, nodded his head in agreement.