“And your father was so hesitant he would not stop talking, which surprised me, given we were betrothed from birth and in love.” Mama smiled. “But performing marital relations with your wife presents a vastly different challenge, according to my Titus.”
“How so?” Myriad options, all of which focused on the physical realm, raced through his brain.
“Because how you begin your life with Senara will determine how you go on, and you cannot just climb atop her and have your wicked way.” Mama humphed. “Set aside everything you believe you know about women and resolve to romance your bride.”
“Excellent counsel, Desi.” Isobeau pointed for emphasis. “Inquire after Senara’s favorite foods, especially sweetmeats, and ask the cook to prepare them.”
“Bring her flowers.”
“Read to her.”
“Take her for long rides, just the two of you.”
“Talk to her.”
“Listen to her.”
“Has she any special interests that you might share?”
In rapid fire, Mama and Isobeau assailed Arsenius and Titus with bits of wisdom regarding the fair sex. Soon, Arsenius became muddled in a haze of confusion, until the advice took a decidedly more decadent turn.
“When she is ready, you may sample her most intimate flesh, but you should seek her permission.” Mama tapped her cheek. “And confer with her before attempting any deviation from the norm.”
“Quite right.” Isobeau nodded. “It was months before Atticus and I—”
“No, no.” Titus stood and covered his ears. “I am not listening.”
“Thank you, Mama and Isobeau.” Arsenius ran for the door. “You have been of great service, but that is enough.”
In the hall, they tried but failed to ignore the bombastic mirth emanating from the solar.
“That did not go as I had hoped.” Titus winced. “Do you think it possible to wash a memory with soap?”
“No.” Arsenius shuddered. “Do you recall the night we spent in London, after the Festival of Fire tournament?”
“Aye.” Titus leaned against the wall. “Wherefore do you ask?”
A vision of wild and wanton behavior flashed in Arsenius’s brain. “You do not suppose our parents have ever—”
“Stop.” With a mighty groan, Titus smacked Arsenius. “You had to mention that, as if I am not already gripped in the throes of horror.” Wiping his face, his cousin mumbled, “But I am for bed, though I suspect sleep will not come easy for me.”
“Rest well.” Likewise, Arsenius could not quiet the unsettling whispers wreaking havoc on his senses. Nay, thither was no respite for the weary or anxious. So as Titus set a course for the family chambers, Arsenius steered toward the north wing.
In the narrow passage, to avoid detection he crept. Aye, he crept. Grasping the wrought iron ring at Senara’s entry, he slowly pushed open the heavy oak panel and prayed the hinges did not creak.
Inside, the sitting room was dark save the light from the flames flickering in the hearth. But a glow emanated from a thin crack between the inner doors, so he advanced. When he breached the bedchamber, he discovered Senara kneeling on the floor before the fireplace.
“Good eventide, my lady.” At her shriek, he chuckled. “You make noise. That is an improvement.”
“What are you doing hither? Have you no shame?” Crossing her arms in front of her, she attempted to hide her body from his gaze. Garbed in naught but her thin nightgown, and backlit by the blaze, her shapely curves captivated him. “Get out, before I scream.”
“And what will you achieve, beyond further embarrassment, given we are to wed in a few hours?” In the saffron radiance from a candle, her features assumed a more animated appeal, and he adored her fit of pique. “Though I may permit it, as it is remarkably pleasing to hear you say anything.”
“Oh, I have plenty to speak on my behalf, sir.” She shook her fist, and he wondered if that temper lent itself to other, more intimate activities. “But wherefore have you intruded on my privacy, as it is indecent, given we have not taken our vows? Is it not enough that I am your intended, forced to the altar, despite the fact that I was betrothed to a childhood friend? That my father has lost his home, his title, his fortune, and his dignity? That my family legacy is all but erased? That my people suffer beneath the Crown’s iniquitous demands for taxes to pay for a war that did not benefit us? Would you strip me of the last vestiges of self-respect? Am I to bring naught but my flesh to this union?”
“By God’s toes, you are glorious in your righteous indignation.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, he slapped his thighs. “Tell me more.”
“Wherefore should I indulge you?” Then she covered her mouth and sobbed. “And now you will banish my family, condemning them to ruination.”
“I beg your pardon, my lady, but you labor under a false assumption.” As much as he savored her ire, he had to correct her erroneous presumption. “I have no plans to remove your family from Bellesea. Soon you will be a De Wolfe, and we take care of our own.”
“And that protection extends to my relations?” A tear streamed her cheek, as Senara took a single step in his direction. Thither was a strange appeal to her melancholy. “You would guard them?”
“Of course.” He shrugged. “It is my duty, as your husband.”
With a startling, high-pitched cry, she charged him, and he stood.
Soft, feminine, and warm in his arms, as if she was made for his embrace, she hugged him about the waist and wept. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, kind sir.”
“You are most welcome.” For that reaction, he would grant whatever she wanted. “So is that wherefore you were so quiet when we met?”
“Aye. Papa cautioned me to hold my tongue.” Sniffing, she shifted and retreated from his hold. Smoothing her hair, she collected her robe and covered herself. “I should warn you that I have always been exceedingly frank in my conversations. It is my primary fault.”
“Ah, but I consider it your strength, thus you will ignore your father’s wise but unnecessary counsel.” In that moment, Arsenius found the idea of marriage to Senara far more attractive, so he drew her back to him. “On the morrow, we wed, and we will seal our oath of devotion with a kiss to satisfy those in attendance. So this is for us.” Then he bent his head and claimed her lips.
~
Bedecked in blue, the color of purity, with her hair braided, Senara strolled the walk to the steps of the chapel at Wolfe’s Lair, whereupon the families gathered for the ceremony. Hot and cold at once, as she revisited the memory of the tender interlude she shared with Arsenius, she shivered, and her cheeks burned. If not for his assurances, she would have run into the moors, without so much as a backward glance.
Clinging to his promises as a shield against the fear ravaging her senses, she joined her groom. “My lord.”
“My lady.” Resplendent in his black doublet, hose, and overgown, with his beauteous face clean-shaven, Arsenius bowed. “You are a vision, but I prefer your garb from last night.”
“Shh.” In light of his shocking comment, she almost swallowed her tongue. “Someone might hear you.”
“What does it matter?” Unabashed, he winked. “In a short amount of time, you will be mine, to do with as I choose. If I wish to parade you naked about the bailey, I may do so, and no one can stop me.” When she gasped, he covered her hand with his. “Relax, as I am a greedy man, when it comes to you, and no one shall see you thus, except me.”
“I am not sure that is altogether comforting.” Startled by the prospect, she flinched, as nudity was forbidden in her household. Even when she bathed, she wore her chemise. “Arsenius, you test my patience.”
“Get used to it.” His response did not inspire confidence, even as the vicar cleared his throat.
“As all parties are present, let us commence the ceremony.” Vicar Bernard held high the cross. “In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.”
In unison, the crowd replied, “Amen.”
“Now, now.” With his thumb, he daubed her tears. “None of that, my lady wife.”
“But I am your prisoner.” She sobbed as he framed her face and forced her to meet his stare.
“Nay, Senara.” Ever so gently, he brushed his lips to hers. “You are my mate, my other half, my partner in all enterprises. Do you not comprehend the depth of my commitment to you? My heart will be your shelter, and my arms will be your home. Do you think I took that oath in jest?”
“In truth, I have no knowledge of your character and must accept your word as your bond.” Had she not promised him frankness? “I mean no insult, but my life is over, and I grieve.”
“Ah, but you are mistaken, my dear.” In a rush, depriving her of any opportunity to protest, he turned her toward their combined families. “Look about you, Senara. Your life has just begun.”
Assailed by the throng, she accepted the well-wishes in the spirit they were offered, but inside she mourned. Wearing a smile as a mask to hide her emotional state, she moved as a puppet on a stage.
“Friends and relations, let us gather in the great hall for food, drink, music, dance, and general merry-making.” Atticus drew Isobeau to his side. “I may even be persuaded to join in an estampie.”
“Oh, it is always the same.” Isobeau swatted at her spouse. “Play an estampie. Play an estampie.”
In the massive chamber, Senara met Arsenius’s three brothers and two sisters, along with a sea of De Wolfes, De Sheras, and their connections. Seated at the dais, the host and hostess of the Lair presided over the celebration, while Arsenius and Senara were situated at a small table in the foreground.
“Would you like another portion of the sambocade, my lady?” Beneath the table, her husband brushed her thigh with his, and she jumped. “Something bothering you, sweetheart?”
“Are you mad?” The term of endearment struck her as rather forward. Then she reminded herself of their union. “Have you no sense of decency? What of deportment and morals? What of restraint, chastity, and economy?”
“What of passion, or have you never tasted it?” Through their clothing, again he rubbed his leg to hers, and she scooted her seat to the left. Just as fast, he yanked her chair to the right, closer than previously positioned. “You will not escape me, regardless of your attempts, and as your lord and master, I command you to remain hither.”
“I know naught of such things.” Indeed, the concept was foreign.
“You were betrothed to another for a long time.” Arsenius swallowed a huge bite of cheesecake. “Did you never explore the differences in your bodies?”
“How dare you insult me thus?” The very idea made her ill. “I was raised to protect and preserve my honor, for the sake of my future husband. To violate that sacred duty would be to discredit my family, and I would never do that. I would think that you, of all people, would comprehend my actions in defense of our good name.”
“You are correct, as I understand more than you realize.” In the blink of an eye, his demeanor softened, and he brought her hand to his lips. “I sincerely anticipate feeding you that first taste of pleasure, my treasured bride.”
“May I have your attention?” At the dais, Atticus stood. “As the patriarch of the De Wolfes, the duty of the first toast falls upon my shoulders, and I beg your forbearance, as I consider myself a simple man.” He shifted his weight. “None of us came to this wedding of our own free will. Indeed, tragedy, conflict, and His Majesty’s edict brought us together. This is naught new for the De Wolfes and the De Sheras, as we have endured much strife in our history, but I promise my great-nephew and his bride that all is not doomed.”
“To what does he refer?” Intrigued, Senara leaned close to her husband.
“I am certain he will explain.” Arsenius kissed her temple, and gooseflesh covered her from head to foot.
“My own union was marked by sadness, as it was preceded by my beloved brother’s murder.” Atticus gazed at Isobeau, who smiled. “But love healed my wounds, and while the pain of the past is never forgotten, it can be tempered by the incomparable devotion of a soul-deep connection with a right and true mate.” He raised high his tankard. “To the Arscotts, I welcome you to the fold. You may have come to the Lair as adversaries, but you leave as kin. Never doubt our allegiance and support, as we stand with you, come what may. To Arsenius and Senara, I wish you the same unfailing relationship that I enjoy with my Isobeau.” A chorus of concurrence erupted in the great hall, and Atticus pounded his fist to the table. “Play an estampie.”
As the first notes reverberated above the noise, the revelers divided into small collectives, joined hands to form a circle, and hopped to the left. The rhythm changed, and the groups rotated to the right. In good spirit, the men hurled insults neither flippant nor earnest, and the ladies laughed, and for the first time since the defeat at Blackheath, Senara rejoiced.
Until she glimpsed a familiar face among the assembly.
As the melody ended, she turned to Arsenius. “Prithee, excuse me. But I should greet my friends from Cornwall.”
“Should I escort you?” Arsenius grabbed her wrist.
“Mayhap I should smooth ruffled feathers, before I introduce you, as many lost loved ones to the King’s soldiers.” At least she did not lie, as thither were those who hated His Majesty and his defenders. “Given the executions of Gof, Flamank, and Audley, I fear what awaits us in Penryn, but I will do my utmost to mediate on your behalf.”
“So I am to avail myself of your skirts?” His accompanying smirk conveyed an altogether different intent. “You will protect me against the heathen Cornish?”
“Must you always be so provoking?” She just stopped herself from taking the bait. “Can we never engage in a nice, normal conversation?”
“Sweet Senara, this is normal for me, so you should prepare yourself for a lifetime of provocation.” Arsenius bowed and waggled his brows. “But I vow to never leave you wanting.”
“I beg your pardon?” In confusion, she blinked.
“Ah, how I adore your blush. Go and receive our guests.” Then he claimed a quick kiss and snickered when she caught her breath. “Remember, we are married, thus previously bad behavior is now sanctioned by His Majesty, and I plan to exceed the limits of our license.” She swayed, but he offered support. “Relax, as I vow you will enjoy every moment of it.”
“You are determined to put me in an early grave.” With that, she ignored his arrogant laugh and marched toward the screened passage at the rear of the great hall, whither she located her childhood companion. “Petroc, when did you arrive?”
“Early this morning.” Her former betrothed pulled her into an arched alcove. “I am sorry I could not rescue you or suspend your wedding, but I have not yielded the fight.” He handed her a folded parchment. “Fret not, Senara. I will liberate you, but until I can enact my scheme, I encourage you to cooperate with your captor and appease that murderous De Wolfe.”
“Are you insane?” She checked her tone. “Petroc, I am married. Given I have taken the sacrament, I cannot betray my husband, as he owns my fealty regardless of his past deeds. Whatever your strategy, you cannot succeed whither others failed. Have we not lost enough life? What of your father? Despite his righteous cause, he died for naught.”
“Do not say that.” Petroc bared his teeth, and he frightened her. “Read the letter, and be ready to act, as I will come for you.”
“Wait.” Wrenching free, he scowled and plunged into the crowd. In her clutch the letter all but burned her flesh, and she shoved the suspicious missive into her fitchet before rejoining her groom.
“Now do not faint, but we are expected to retire and s
eal our vows.” Arsenius extended an arm, and she settled her palm in the crook of his elbow, lest she topple to the floor. “Wave and smile at everyone, my dear.”
“My lord, I am not sure I can fulfill my duties tonight.” A bawdy refrain from the men mingled with feminine giggles, as Arsenius and Senara strolled into the entry and toward the stairs. “Prithee, I think I might be ill.”
“Calm yourself, my lady wife.” Stroking the back of her hand, he led her to the second floor. “As much as I would love to seize your maidenhead, we will not consummate our marriage until we are better acquainted, unless you protest.”
“Are you serious?” She came to an abrupt halt. “Or do you play with me, sir?”
“Oh, how I wish to play with you, sweet Senara.” He tugged her to his side, and they resumed their walk to what she presumed were the family apartments. “But I would delay, that you might enjoy the singular event.”
“And that matters?” She braced for additional taunts.
“It does to me.” In that instant, her respect for him grew by leaps and bounds. At a double door portal, he ushered her into a well-appointed sitting room. “Although we defer the deflowering, I require you to share my bed, as we are husband and wife, and I will endure no rumors regarding our relationship. When the time is right, we will join our bodies.”
“That is the most decent thing I have ever heard you say.” And she knew exactly what to do with Petroc’s letter. “Thank you, Arsenius. I am most grateful.”
“You are welcome, my dear.” With a gentle touch, he caressed her cheek. “Your personal belongings were moved to my chamber, during our wedding feast. If you wish to undress, I grant you the privacy of the inner suite.”
“All right.” She nodded and exhaled, as she turned and trod into the next room, shutting the doors behind her. Then she ran to the hearth, yanked the missive from her fitchet, and flung the parchment into the blaze.
World of De Wolfe Pack_The Big Bad De Wolfe Page 4
