"Perfect," Elyssa said, lifting her hand to trace the outline of his smile.
The noise in Lavendon's hall was deafening, what with so many men all seeking to outshout each other. From her place at the high table's center as befitted a bride, Elyssa smiled as she watched Geoffrey. He'd gone to join his brothers and Lord Lavendon at the hall's corner, supposedly to share some private conversation. Instead, they were toasting each other, celebrating both wedding and victory.
Geoffrey wore his court attire, which had come with him in his saddle packs: a fine yellow gown trimmed with cloth of gold, a brown mantle lined with mink and held in place by a massive gold chain. They made quite a pair, for she matched him well, her own clothing having been rescued from that undamaged shed. Atop her gold-colored gown, she wore her best overgown, a tawny thing with trailing sleeves. The fabric was only wool, but she'd embroidered it from neckline to hem with an intricate pattern wrought in shimmering threads. Over her hair, she wore her finest wimple, a head covering so sheer it was hardly visible, held in place by a single hair comb at her crown. The wimple was caught around her neck with the necklet Geoffrey had given her as a bride gift.
When Geoff raised his gaze it was to seek her out. Elyssa's only reaction was to lift her brows, letting that little movement tell him how lonely she was for him. He smiled and bid the others adieu. As he started toward her, happiness glowed in Elyssa. Geoffrey put her first, even above his own kin. His actions were a reminder of how rare this man was.
"My husband returns," Elyssa told Lady Lavendon, who'd come to bear her company in Geoffrey's absence.
Henry of Lavendon's wife was as plain as he, but despite her mousy mein Lady Adelicia was friendly and a veritable miracle worker. In no time, Adelicia had turned what could have been a barren day into a joyous celebration. Sprays of autumn blossoms and foliage were pinned to the tablecloths. Their recently finished meal included four fine dishes in each of the three courses. Even cold, the rich smell of cloves still rose from the fowl on the platter before Elyssa. Musicians, or that was the title they claimed for themselves, poured more heart than talent into their tunes, but at least there was music. Adelicia had even cleared her own bedchamber, setting Elyssa's undamaged bed into that room in order to honor the new couple.
Now, Lady Lavendon shot Elyssa a wry look. "So would my husband come running to me, tongue lolling like one of his dogs, were I to look at him the way you look at yours. Before I leave you to him, tell me what think you of our lass and your lad?"
Elyssa's gaze slipped to the great ring of folk circling the hearthstone. At that instant, the musicians increased their tempo as the tune required, demanding even swifter steps from the dancers. Jocelyn nearly stumbled into the petite girl next to him.
Although Avice of Lavendon was sweet-faced at eight, there was no hope of her ever owning much in the way of beauty. Her hair was a nondescript brown, her eyes that same gentle shade. Nonetheless, the child owned a gay smile and a charming laugh. On her part, Avice seemed much taken with Jocelyn; her eyes came to life each time she looked on the one who would someday be her husband. And, each time she looked, Jocelyn blushed a deep red, just as he was doing this very moment.
Elyssa laughed. "I think they are well-suited, or will be once Jocelyn outgrows a boy's disdain for lasses." Her happiness grew until it was a great bubble within her. Aye, she was content with all the world just now.
"Well then, I shall leave you to your man. Let me know when you are ready to retire," Adelicia said, as a silvery giggle escaped her. She turned to join the dancers.
Geoffrey came to sit beside his new wife on the bench they had shared during the meal. "What was that about?" he asked as he put his arm around her back and drew her close to him.
"Naught," Elyssa replied, trying not to smile. Leaning her head against her husband's shoulder, she lay her arm around his waist. The fine fabric of his yellow gown was soft against her hand.
It took only this mere touch to make Elyssa's contentment explode into longing, fed by Lady Adelicia's offer of the bedchamber. Her pulse leapt at the thought of shutting their bed curtains on the world. Turning slightly in his embrace, she pressed her breast against Geoffrey's chest then touched her lips to his throat.
His arm tightened around her, but it had too much of a fond embrace in it and not enough of a lover's clutch. She lifted her mouth to his ear, nuzzling. "Geoffrey, I would retire now," she breathed.
He laughed quietly. "So would I, but we must not insult our host." Still, her request teased his hand into sliding from her waist to her hip. Heat washed over her, promising much pleasure. To even contemplate waiting the usual hours before bedding was sheer torture.
"I'm told the chamber's ready now," she murmured against his jaw.
"It wouldn’t be polite. We should at least pretend we have some awareness of custom, love."
Elyssa frowned. Did he think to set convention against her when there was naught in their relationship that was conventional? Then, the corners of her mouth lifted. Did he think he could resist her will?
Inspired by her need for him, Elyssa recalled that day a month past when Geoffrey's shirt had clung to his wet torso. Her free hand rose, gliding up the soft surface of his gown to trace the hard contour of his chest. Beneath her palm, she felt his heart's beat quicken. Her hand slipped downward. His gaze met hers, at first startled, then his eye color deepened as he understood she meant to toy with him. He tugged his mantle around him to hide her play from any onlookers. When her hand rested against his shaft, a slight, dusky color stained his yet-sundarkened skin, creeping along his fine cheekbones. His lips parted slightly as, with the tips of her fingers, she explored what could not be hers soon enough.
Leaning down to press his mouth to her ear, he breathed, "Dear God in heaven, I have given ownership of my body to a terrible tease."
She turned her face to brush his mouth with hers. He tasted of the fine wine they'd shared. His skin was smooth, newly shaved, and smelled clean. "So you have," she agreed, dropping her words softly against his lips. "'Til death us depart, Geoffrey. Can you bear it?"
Her palm replaced her fingertips, stroking gently. The strength of what lay beneath her hand made her gasp and her womb to melt. His lips closed over hers, his kiss burning. Every inch of her came to roaring life, and she trembled against his need.
She let him take her mouth just as he would soon take her body then gave him as good as he offered her, her fingers still teasing him. He eased one hand beneath her loose wimple to bury his fingers into her hair. His kiss deepened until it was nigh on bruising in its intensity.
Their bench grated against the wooden flooring as he moved it back from the table. His arm across her back tightened, until he lifted her. With a sharp cry of surprise, Elyssa laced her hands behind his neck against her fear of falling.
Geoffrey sat her across his lap. "Cease. That’s all of that I can stand," he laughed.
His aching need now rested against her hip. Elyssa made a tiny, feral sound; so near, yet so unattainable. Desire raged beyond any caring for propriety. She moved against him, her mouth finding his, her kiss begging him to touch her, to take her.
With a deep gasp, he tore free then leaned his brow on hers. "Cease," he pleaded softly, his word breaking as she moved again. His arms encircled her, forcing her to remain still. Elyssa plagued him with tiny, tormenting kisses.
His breath shivered from him. "Jesu, stop, Lyssa, else I vow I'll embarrass us both before all these witnesses."
"Is that a promise?" she breathed against his lips.
"What has happened to the prim and proper woman I wed?" he managed, as she kissed her way along his cheek to his ear. "Are you not the same Elyssa who raged when I looked upon your unbound hair?"
"Ah, but that was then. Now, I am your wife. There is no shame in showing my husband all the passion and love I bear in my heart for him." Her words fell softly into the cup of his ear, making them more caress than statement. Beneath her hip, she felt hi
s shaft strain.
Elyssa straightened, her fingers combing through the soft fair hair that lay against his nape. "Come now, you gave me ownership of your body, Geoffrey. I am but claiming what is mine. Take me to bed," she commanded him.
"We must wait," he said.
"Take me to bed, Geoff." She touched her lips to his throat, just beneath his jaw.
"We shouldn't," he murmured against her caress.
Her fingers moved on his nape, making him shudder, as she nipped at his lower lip. "Take me to bed, Geoff. My need to touch you is terrible, indeed."
He released her to catch her face between his hands. His eye was bright with wanting. "Where?" he asked. "Where will you touch me?"
Elyssa's smile was slow as she recognized his resistance to her need was crumbling. She slid her hands forward until they rested against his shoulders. "From here," she flattened her palms and drew her hands downward until they'd move no farther, "to your hips. But not your shaft."
His brows raised, and the corner of his mouth lifted. "No?" He turned the word into an aching plea that she shouldn't deny him such a caress.
Her smile grew. "No, that I will save for later, when I touch you again with my mouth."
"Oh my God," he breathed and his brow furrowed.
His walls fell beneath her assault. She need only claim what she'd come to fetch. Catching one of his hands in hers, she drew his palm to her mouth. With her gaze yet fastened on his face, she kissed each of his fingertips, then rested her lips against the sensitive skin at the cup of his palm. Using her tongue's tip, she drew a circle there. He shuddered. She kissed his inner wrist, then, again, tasted his skin.
When she was done, she laid his hand against her breast and once more laced her fingers behind his nape. His hand fitted itself around the roundness of her breast, and he did not resist as the pressure of her hands on his nape drew his face toward hers.
She spoke between small kisses. "Come now, let me show you what I know of making pleasure in a bed. I vow I'll leave you screaming even before you spill your seed."
Geoffrey groaned and snatched her close. Cradling her in his arms, he rose so quickly the bench crashed against the floor. Elyssa laughed softly and buried her face against his neck.
"Quiet!" he bellowed at the musicians. "Quiet!"
The hall fell still; every eye was fastened on them. Adelicia called her maids and moved toward the bridal couple, already knowing what would be said.
"I beg your pardon, Henry, but it’s time for the bedding," Geoffrey called to his host, "and if any damn one of you complains, I'll slay you right now." The room exploded into laughter.
"Put me down, Geoffrey," Elyssa said. "I must go upstairs first."
"Not if my life depended on it," Geoffrey returned. "Should my brothers get hold of me, they'll keep me from you for hours. They are ruthless men." He looked down at Lady Lavendon. "We will disrobe together, my lady."
"If you say so, my lord," she replied, her face alive with amusement. "Come you upstairs."
The commoners hooted and howled. The drummer pounded on his drum. Shields were brought forth from hiding, and fists banged against them, properly heralding the bridal couple toward the stairs. The pipers followed them up, making no attempt to even find a tune. In this instance, it was sheer volume that counted, the purpose being to distract the newlyweds so they couldn't complete their first joining.
Lavendon's chaplain led the way up the stairs and into the bedchamber. It was a hearthless and windowless room with but a single linen panel on its wooden walls, but, here too, Lady Adelicia had been busy. Sprays of foliage and blooms hung on each corner of the bed, while a ewer of watered wine and two cups sat on a small table near the bed. The floor was strewn with fresh rushes mingled with mint, leaving the air spicy. Beeswax candles stood in sconces around the room, bringing a gleaming, sparkling life to an otherwise dim atmosphere.
The priest went to bless the bed as Geoffrey set Elyssa's feet on the floor. With a final, brief kiss, they separated, going to opposite sides of the chamber. Adelicia, her maids, and even little Avice followed Elyssa, while Geoffrey's brothers, Jocelyn, and Lord Lavendon closed around him. Elyssa peered over heads to watch her beloved.
Lord Ashby was tearing at his belt. "Have you a care with my gown, Gilliam," Geoffrey warned. "If you ruin it, I'll make you buy me a new one."
"I am only trying to aid you, Geoff," the big man retorted, throwing the belt aside as the others behind him removed Geoff's thick chain and mantle. "Was I wrong in thinking you couldn't wait to be free of these garments?"
Elyssa laughed as her own, far gentler attendants stripped away her wimple and mantle, then set to loosening her belt and laces. She pulled her plaits over her shoulders and freed them as her witnesses worked. All the while, Elyssa watched her husband.
He lost his gown then his shirt, leaving him dressed only in his chausses. By the time she was in her undergown, Lords Meynell and Lavendon were unwinding Geoffrey's crossgarters. Heat washed over Elyssa as she watched Graistan's lord help Geoff step from his chausses. The men moved back and her husband stood before her, unclothed.
Elyssa sighed. Her imagination hadn't done him justice. Candlelight glowed against Geoffrey's skin, gleaming against his broad shoulders and tracing the masculine swell and fall of his chest. Shadows outlined the muscular curves of his arms. He stepped forward, his legs long, his thighs powerful. Elyssa let her gaze follow the flat stretch of his belly to his narrow hips. His shaft's earlier reaction to her had died.
Then, the women were pulling off her undergown. Avice freed her of the last stocking and shoe, handing the items to her mother as she backed away. Elyssa shrugged off her sleeveless chemise. Having once been as thin as Jocelyn, each successive babe had added to her bulk until she finally claimed a woman's natural roundness. Unclothed, she tossed her hair back behind her shoulders, then stepped forward, awaiting Geoffrey's inspection.
Her husband's gaze flowed over her, from the gentle curve of her breasts to her waist, past the flare of her hips. "You are perfect," he murmured, his shaft taking notice of the ruddy curls covering her woman's flesh.
Lord Gilliam roared in appreciation of his brother's masculine reaction to his wife. "And we thought you dead, Geoff!"
Rannulf of Graistan cuffed his youngest brother. "He wasn't dead, only sleeping. Look on in jealousy at how she's awakened him." Then, Graistan's lord looked at her, a teasing expression in his gray eyes. "Come now, Lady Coudray, let us hear your judgment. Does our brother pass as unblemished save for what lays upon his face?" This was less a warning over speaking of Geoffrey's scars than a goad to see if she'd rise to his bait.
Elyssa's mouth curved. "My eyesight fails me at this distance," she replied. "I think I must come closer."
The movement of her hips was sultry as she strolled toward Geoffrey. With each step, proof of his need for her grew. Even the chaplain laughed at Geoffrey's bold display.
"Aye," Lady Lavendon called after Elyssa, supporting the wife in her torture of her husband, "the light in here is dim, indeed. She is wise to make certain there's naught hidden. Who's to know if that upthrust of flesh is truly what it portends?" She once again added her silvery giggle.
"Turnabout is fair play," Lord Meynell retorted in defense of his brother. "Geoffrey, take you a closer look, as well." Geoffrey's eldest brother shoved him toward his bride until they were less than arm's length apart.
"One thing's for certain, he sleeps no longer, at least not this night," Lord Ashby called.
"You are a terrible tease," Geoffrey whispered as Elyssa set her fingertip to the dull white shape of an old scar on his chest.
"Oh look, he's marked here," Elyssa called to the men behind him, fighting with her smile. Her fingertip flowed down his chest to the next scar. Geoffrey drew a deep breath, his reaction to her growing even stronger.
"Best you check that thing there between his legs, my lady," a maid called. "It has the look of an infection, all swollen and angry.
"
"Geoff," Lord Rannulf called, "it seems to me she's doing all the looking. What sort of inspection is this? Come now, have you no defense against her?"
Elyssa put her hands on her husband's shoulders then raised herself on her toes to look behind him at his brothers. Her breasts brushed his chest. "I've found me another scar," she complained. "I fear I cannot accept him. Damaged goods, you know."
Much to the amusement of the women behind her, Geoffrey caught her by the buttocks and lifted her until her woman's curls touched his shaft. "Are you certain, Lyssa?" he breathed into her ear.
Elyssa sighed and caught her arms around his neck. Dear God, but his skin felt good against hers. "I have changed my mind," she managed in a husky voice. "There is no defect." With that, she took his mouth with hers, sliding upward on his body to make accessible the entry he craved.
"Jesu Christus," Lord Gilliam shouted in a truly awestruck voice, "she'll have her way with him in front of us. Best we leave them be. Geoff, I shall return in an hour to see if you yet live."
Geoffrey laughed against Elyssa's mouth then straightened to look over his shoulder at his younger brother. "Do it and you'll not live to see the morrow's dawn." To the women, he said, "Have pity on us and drive them from the room, else they'll stay, wishing to witness all of it."
If the men shouted and cried out in protest, the women were the victors in this brief battle. A moment later the door closed. As soon as the nobles were gone, the commoners took up their posts outside the room. The drum's tenor beat threaded into the deeper rumbling of fists beating on shields. Elyssa did not move nor did Geoff release her. To do so would destroy the incredible sensations flowing between them.
"One of us must bar the door, else they'll be back," he murmured, his mouth brushing her cheek, then her ear.
"In a moment," Elyssa said with a sigh. Every inch of her was alive with him. She felt his heart beating against hers, and her breasts flattened so nicely against his chest. And, Mary save her, his shaft was hot against her belly.
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