The Countess Bride

by TERRI BRISBIN

  “When do you leave?”

  “How did you know?” Was he the only one in the castle who had no foreknowledge of that which was to come?

  “All manner of noblemen and courtiers and messengers come to Eleanor. I simply listen.”

  “I leave with the king in two or three days’ time. Will you stay here with the queen?”

  She entwined her fingers in his. “She has invited me to do so. Without you, I have no place to go, so I will accept her offer.”

  He had not considered her lack of position here among strangers. Until they married, she would have no true place among the court. If anything happened to him, the betrothal agreement provided for her income, but she would be dependent on the kindness of others, as she had been for the last three years.

  “Your face is so grave. What worries you?” She touched his cheek with her hand.

  “We should marry before I leave.”

  “That did not sound convincing, my lord. Would you like to try once more?”

  “What do you mean?” Was this the rashness that Christian had meant? When would he develop the control needed to think before speaking or acting?

  “Your words sounded as though you were attempting to convince yourself of the need to finish what is between us, and not truly asking for it to be.”

  “I confess to making it less than the enthusiastic request that my heart urges me to, Catherine. There are so many things new in my life and I am adjusting as best I can.”

  “This is why I stopped you that night. You have doubts about the rightness of this. Doubts that I want resolved before any more vows are spoken.”

  “Do not doubt my love for you.”

  “I do not. But I ask for your honesty when discussing our future. Will you give it to me always? Now?”

  She knew his fears. She knew his weaknesses. Still she loved him.

  “My brother has asked that we postpone our marriage vows until our return with the king.”

  He searched her face as she thought on his words. Then he saw her gaze go the ramparts across the yard, and knew she’d observed them together. “What think you?”

  “In deference to his wisdom and his past kindnesses to me, I would do whatever he asks. Do you think his opposition to me will lessen in that time or strengthen?”

  Tempted to soothe her fears of his brother’s objections, he did not. There would always be honesty between them, as she had requested. “I know not, Catherine. He battles his own demons from the past. I do sense that he is trying to…understand my reasons.”

  “Do you ever have the feeling that he knows more and says nothing? That he struggles not to give his true reasons to either of us?”

  Christian had said as much to him. Even in revealing her identity, he had withheld something from Geoffrey, something that would explain his reaction to Catherine. What could it be? Why had he done it?

  “It is linked to your brother— I know that for certain. I fear there is no way to avoid his connection with the animosity between Christian and you.”

  “And with my brother being dead, there is no way to seek peace from the past.”

  “If you agree to wait for my return…” Geoffrey paused and waited for her acceptance. Once given, he continued, “I will try to speak to him and discover what he keeps to himself.”

  “That would seem a sound plan, my lord.”

  “Catherine, I need to take you somewhere private and remind you of my name. And I need to hear it on your lips as I touch those places that are only for me.”

  She shifted on the bench, even as he felt the need to do the same. Her response to his suggestive words inflamed him even more. He longed to spirit her away as he’d said, but with the attention of the queen, it would be impossible. He could only wait until Catherine was his to take.

  “Now that we have settled that, we must plan our time carefully, for we have only two days before I leave. Do you think the queen would disapprove if we rode to the river’s edge? Mayhap if we take Aymer and Lady Constance, she will not object?”

  And Geoffrey decided to make every moment of the next days matter, so that when he left with the king, he did not wear the look of pain and desperation that his brother wore.

  Chapter Nineteen

  One good aspect of staying with Eleanor was that news from Château Gaillard arrived several times each day. The first few weeks were uneventful, but when King Phillip threatened the Norman city of Aumale, the battles began. Although not directly involved, Catherine was certain that the queen was apprised of everything Richard did and every plan made to combat the French incursion into Normandy. And as the words she dictated to her clerks demonstrated, Eleanor did not hesitate to give her son advice on conducting the defense of his realm.

  Catherine found much to do to occupy her time while awaiting Geoffrey’s return. There was no lack of nobles, courtiers, churchmen, troubadors and other courtly visitors who came to present themselves to the king’s mother. In spite of their introduction, she and Constance became friends. Her first friend, she realized one day. She was not so dull as to think that Constance’s attraction to Sir Aymer did not play a part in it, but there was a genuine affection between them.

  Catherine enjoyed the letters that Geoffrey sent to her during his first excursion in the service of his king. Not certain if he had a clerk write them for him or if they were in his own hand, she knew the correspondence reflected his sense of humor and his excitement in his service. And if he were ever in danger or if the battles were overwhelming, he never revealed it to her in his missives.

  Finally, when St. Matthew’s feast had passed and Michaelmas approached, the queen received the news of Richard’s resounding victory that gained him not only a safe boundary, but also regained him control of Gisors and the Vexin. Concern that this might inflame the tensions between the kingdoms lasted only a short time, and Eleanor was ready to celebrate by the time Richard and his commanders and vassals arrived back in Caen.

  Crowds lined the streets leading into the city and along the northern approach, but Catherine waited inside with Eleanor and the other nobles. Standing behind the queen’s chair in the main hall, she nervously twisted the ring that Geoffrey had placed on her finger at his departure. She’d tried to refuse his action, but he’d insisted that she should wear his father’s ring as a sign of their pledges. Because of its size, she tied a piece of ribbon on it and fastened that to her wrist for fear she would lose it.

  Finally, when she thought she could endure the anticipation no longer, she saw him. There was a confidence in his step that had not been there before. A sense of comradery exuded from the entire retinue of the king, one born in sharing danger and defeating it together. Now she understood even more clearly the Angevin arrogance that the countess had always described in connection to her husband’s bearing and attitude. Geoffrey and his brother strode in, side by side, and she was pleased to see that they seemed in good accord.

  Once the king greeted his mother and le Marechal was presented and acclaimed for his role in the Norman victory, the crowd spread out through the hall, and Catherine saw Geoffrey looking for her. She waved to him and watched as he pushed his way through the throng of people on the dais and reached her side.

  Tears filled her eyes as she offered up a prayer of thanksgiving for his safe return. He wrapped his arms around her so tightly she feared he might squeeze the very breath from her, but there was no compulsion in the world that would have forced her to make him loosen his hold. All of the worries, all of the womanly concerns that had darkened her thoughts and her dreams during his absence pressed on her now that he was safe.

  She loved him and would never permit harm to come to him if she could prevent it. Catherine knew that this was backward, that he would do the protecting, but somehow the thoughts gave her comfort. She cried out in joy, in fear and in love as he held her.

  “Catherine, love,” he soothed. “I am unharmed. Let me look at you, for I swear I have hungered for even a glimpse of yo
u in these past weeks.”

  He released her and allowed her to move away only enough so that he could see her face. He lifted her chin and turned her head from side to side, examining everything there. “Your beauty is still as perfect as I remember it to be, my lady.” Then he kissed her.

  This kiss was not the ravenous one she expected. Instead, with the softest of touches of his lips on hers, he learned her again. Moving his mouth over hers, he breathed in as he kissed her, as though trying to remember her scent. When she could stand his gentleness no longer, she reached up, threaded her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer so she could have her fill.

  Since many other such reunions were occurring all through the hall, the castle and even the city, Catherine did not feel the need to curb her enthusiasm for her betrothed. Only the voice of the earl, loud enough to be heard over the din, broke into her kiss.

  “So, ’twould seem that she did not lose affection for him while we kept him away.”

  Geoffrey laughed into her mouth and they parted. Standing back and adjusting her gown and veil, she was surprised by the joviality in Lord Harbridge’s greeting. Geoffrey stood next to her, keeping her close with his arm around her waist.

  “My lord, you look well,” she said, nodding to the earl. “And Sir Luc, ’tis good to see you hale and hearty on your return from battle.”

  “I had to keep him safe, Catherine,” Christian declared, “or else Fatin would use her mysterious Eastern ways and put a curse on my ballocks—” He stopped as she gasped and both Geoffrey and Luc shouted his name.

  The whole event took on a strange perspective for her. They were soon seated at table with the knights of both the houses of Langier and Harbridge, and so Catherine was among those she knew. The earl’s ease and familiarity since their return added to the incongruity. She tried not to worry, for Geoffrey and his brother were safe.

  The feasting and celebration went on long into the night, but Catherine would not miss a moment of it. Many of the knights left, in groups or in the company of willing women, and even Luc and Aymer asked for leave to go. When the queen retired, Catherine knew she must depart as well.

  “Wait, I will walk with you,” Geoffrey said, standing when she did.

  They had had no private moments since Geoffrey’s triumphant return, and she craved some with him, to hear of his adventures and his thoughts on how his men had fought. All manner of questions raced through her. She welcomed some time to evaluate the changes in him that could be seen.

  He held out his arm to her and, placing her hand on it, she walked at his side out of the hall and toward the queen’s apartments. Savoring his nearness, Catherine did not speak. They reached the floor on which the queen stayed, but instead of turning into the corridor to the left, Geoffrey guided her to the right, and stopped before a closed door. He turned the knob and opened it before her. Puzzled, she entered the room with him.

  There was a bed in one corner, and several candles lit on a table and in a wall sconce, as well. The only other objects in the room were a basin and a water jug next to the table. She turned, surveying the room, until she faced Geoffrey. His gaze on her was intense, sending shivers down her arms and making the tiny hairs on them stand on end. She saw much in his eyes—confidence, arrogance, self-awareness, desire and fear. As he walked to her, she trembled from the strength of the emotions pouring from him.

  “I have seen much death in these last weeks, Cate. More than I expected or could have imagined. And when death was closest to me, all I could think about was coming back to you. All I could see was your face smiling at me. All I could hear was your voice urging me on.” He stepped closer and placed his hands on her shoulders. “When we were trapped in a valley well away from the main fighting, and I was not certain that we would make it out alive, all I could think of was my pledge to you to return.”

  The sobs she fought to contain rose at his words. He did love her.

  “My brother and I have spoken and he will not raise an objection to our marriage. If it is still your wish to be my wife, you have only to say the word. If you have doubts, then I will wait for you.”

  Could they be together? Could two people who loved truly find the happiness they’d never expected to have? She knew she must reveal the one truth that plagued her. Would he still want her if he knew someone else had taken her virginity?

  Lifting her eyes to meet his, she swallowed, trying to clear her throat. “This will be difficult to confess, my lord… Geoffrey.” She said his name when he frowned. “’Tis something I am not certain I could have told you that night near London.”

  “Cate, if it distresses you, speak not of it. This night I would have only happiness between us. I want to—”

  She touched her fingers to his mouth and stopped him from saying more. Part of her quaked in terror at revealing what she had remembered that night. She knew there was more just beyond the edge of the shadows in her memory, but fear kept her from pushing past that boundary. She believed the rest was better left in the darkness and not acknowledged.

  “I had not thought we would come to this place between us, Geoff. Truly, part of me believed, and still does, that marriage between us will not happen. ’Tis a weak excuse for not telling you immediately, but I do want, nay, I could not stand to see the love in your eyes replaced by disappointment and loathing.”

  She turned from him, still not willing to see his reaction to the words she must speak. Gathering her courage and knowing that he must hear the truth, she took a deep breath. Before she could say a word, he stood behind her, his body against hers, and whispered in her ear.

  “You are not a virgin.”

  Gasping, she pulled away from him. Then she searched his face for some indication of his feelings about her impure state. Would he repudiate her now or even give her the opportunity to explain what little she did know?

  “How did you know this?” Was there some sign that her maidenhead was breached? She knew that blood had marked it the first time, but was it something visible, that he could have seen its absence or presence during their nights together?

  “From the few details my brother has told me of your travails before coming to the convent, I suspected that you had been violated. Then on the night we…almost completed the act, I did not notice the barrier when I touched you there…inside. I had not thought on it until my brother and I spoke about—”

  “You spoke of this with the earl?” Horrified that such a personal matter had been addressed, she shook her head. “He knows?”

  “Cate, we spoke of this in a general way. He wanted to be certain that I understood you had been held at the prince’s command in custody, and that you did not remember what had passed there.”

  “And if I cannot give a full accounting of that time…” Or would not. She was beginning to think that all of it was known to her, but that she was purposely keeping it hidden in her mind.

  “I will tell you what I told my brother, and these words seemed to overcome his objections. You have lived a chaste, respectful and modest life for these three years past, learning and recuperating under the guidance of holy sisters. You have become a helpmate to my sister-by-marriage and you have become my friend. I know everything about your nature and you that I need to know in order to love you and want you as my wife.”

  “But if the danger from the prince is not yet past?”

  “For three years, he has thought you dead. Now you are under my protection, and as my wife, you will be safe at our home in lands far away from him. The danger from him is naught or will be once he knows that your memory of that time is gone.”

  She still had something the prince wanted, even needed, and she doubted that he was willing to give up his quest for it. But if she had not succumbed to his methods three years ago and now did not remember any of it, what recourse would he have? None, now that she was protected by the Dumonts and the sponsorship of Eleanor. It was over.

  “And now, what stands between us?” she asked.

&n
bsp; “Love and wanting and far too many garments for my liking,” he said, smiling at her in the way that made her stomach quiver and her hands itch to touch him. “I confess,” he said, coming closer and lifting his hands to the veils and caplet she wore. “I brought you here for reasons of seduction and lust and claiming.”

  She shivered then at his words and at the tickling feeling as his fingers slid under the restraining wimple that held her hair back. He found the place where it was tied and loosened it, releasing her hair in waves that fell over her shoulders and down her back. The expression on his face changed from wonderment to pure male lust and sinful though it might be, she felt an aching to be touched by him as the throbbing increased in that place near her womanly core.

  “The blood of my Viking ancestors was heated by the battles of these last weeks and rises again with your nearness. Blood lust it is called, and all I can think of when the heat invades me is claiming you. In all ways. Marking you with my mouth and my hands and filling you with my seed.” Her legs nearly buckled at the force of his words. The need in her grew even as he spoke. “You will be mine, Cate, and regardless of who came before, there will be no part of you that is not mine when this night is done.”

  He took her mouth, pressing against it, rubbing it with his own until her lips felt swollen and sensitive. She ached for him, wanting the claiming as much as he did. She arched her body to his and he slid his hands down her sides. Even with her gown between them, she felt his touch teasing her. His palm came to rest at the apex of her thighs and he looked at her.

  “And no pain, Cate. Only pleasure ahead for both of us.”

  Her legs did give out then and so he leaned down and swept her into his arms. Placing her on the bed, he peeled off his tunic and loosened his hose and removed the breechcloth under it all. His manhood jutted out from the springy hair on his belly, and she reached out bravely to touch it.

  “Ah, no, love,” he said, moving back from her. “There is far too much to accomplish between us before it can have its satisfaction. Touch it not now, but later when I ask.”