by R. R. Vane
But Alicia shook her head, and began to walk away, making Sir Bertran follow.
“I told you I am frugal,” she told her husband. “And it’s only spices we’ve come for.”
“But there’s no harm in looking about,” he told her cheerfully, taking her arm and leading her to a stall where a boy was selling gingerbread pastries.
After he paid the required copper coins, he extended one of the sweetmeats to her, while he bit into the other with zest. She made a show of sighing and of appearing reluctant to join the fun he was obviously having, but she took a bite of her own gingerbread. It tasted delicious and sweet, just as sweet as this day was proving to be.
She let herself be persuaded to walk around and look at the stalls by her husband’s side, immersing herself into the colours and scents and in the sheer pleasure of his company.
“So this is what you do when you aren’t at Court… Stroll and idle about?” she asked him with laughter in her voice.
He shook his head.
“No. I’ve little time for strolls or idleness. Perhaps that’s why I’m as eager as a child to take full advantage of this walk.”
She nodded.
“There always seems to be so little time to enjoy the simple pleasures of life. There are always ledgers, vassals and simple folk to guide, and lands to oversee, as well as the chores of keeping the household in order,” she said, recalling all the pressing duties, which had always kept her busy.
“How old were you when you first began to oversee your household and estates?” he asked as they were walking to the spice merchant’s stall.
Alicia mused.
“Fourteen. When my mother passed away.”
“And you’ve no brothers and sisters who could have aided you? What of your father?”
She shrugged, unwilling to reveal how pained she still was by her father’s cowardice and by how he’d callously let her take the blame for his own deeds. She was loath to tell her husband that, over the years, her father had relied mainly on her to oversee their estates. It had felt good to be in charge and to have a lenient parent, yet looking back on it, Alicia began to see it had been advantageous for her father to let her shoulder most of the responsibility. It had been convenient for him to let everyone believe his haughty daughter ruled him, because if things went wrong he would let the blame fall entirely on her. She chastised herself for being too blind to see this, and she resolved to put her father away from her mind. She was done with him.
“My father had his own tasks to see to,” she said tersely, then decided to steer the talk to other things. “Let us look at what the spice merchant has to offer,” she added, as they got close to the spice stall.
The stall’s owner, an elderly man with a silver beard, welcomed them with a broad grin, knowing by their attire that these customers would be able to pay good coin for his wares.
“Pepper for my lady? Cinnamon? Ginger?” he said with a knowing smile, beckoning Alicia to smell and taste and touch what he held on display.
She nodded, but did not try to appear too eager. She expected the merchant to ask for an outrageous price for his goods. Some spices were as dear as gold, and she also wanted to buy a bit of saffron because she’d always enjoyed it in her dishes. Saffron was a new spice she’d learned of lately and it was indeed a luxury.
The merchant beamed at her when she asked for the price of it, and bid her to be careful when she touched and tasted it, because saffron stains were hard to remove from both the skin and the clothes.
“Saffron for my lady and my lord,” he said with a slight wink. “It certainly heats the blood. And it will be so good for my lord, if he will add it to a hot drink…”
Alicia chuckled, because she’d never been one of those ladies bothered by ribald talk.
“My lord has no need of such, I’ll have you know,” she answered the merchant with good humour.
Bertran glanced at both her and the merchant with a puzzled frown.
“It is said that saffron is good for lovers. And it is also said that men employ it sometimes to increase their prowess between the sheets,” she enlightened him with a smile, because she’d never shied away from plain talk.
Her husband cocked an eyebrow, perusing her with his fine hazel eyes. She ignored him, because she wanted to focus on her transaction, knowing the merchant would lead her a merry dance until they both came to agree upon a fair price for the lot of spices she intended to purchase.
“Sugar also, perhaps, my lady?” the merchant asked, when she’d settled on the small amount of saffron she would need.
Sugar was also dear, but it was a medicine that was necessary in a good household. Alicia knew it was needed for stomach ailments. It warmed the belly and the gut, and relieved the pain. She tasted the grains the merchant offered her, and as she did so, sweetness invaded her mouth and she unwittingly glanced at her husband. It was wicked to look upon him when her body was savouring this sweet pleasure, and to think she could not be touched by him with so many people around. She suddenly fantasized of the moment when they were alone and he would get to touch her.
“Sweet,” she muttered casting him a playful smile.
His hazel eyes seemed to perceive the teasing in her voice. He accepted the merchant’s bid to have a taste of the sugar medicine himself. But he shrugged after he’d tasted the grains of sugar, with a smile of his own, which to Alicia looked suddenly mischievous.
“It’s fine. But I like hot better than sweet,” he said.
So, did her lord husband prefer a naughty, defiant wife to a sweet, biddable woman? Alicia strived hard not to blush, replaying in her mind their heated couplings. Aye – they had been mostly hot rather than sweet.
The merchant cleared his throat.
“My lord, my lady, perchance there is something you may find of interest in my humble trade. It is a spice few know and use here. I got it from a Portuguese merchant. It is called grains of Paradise.”
Alicia turned, her interest piqued. She’d heard of the spice, but had never purchased it. The name was full of promise.
The merchant showed them a deep bowl filled with brownish grains, larger than pepper. Alicia thrust her hand inside the bowl of grains, because she’d always enjoyed the feel of new things upon her skin. In surprise she soon felt her husband’s hand touch hers as they both let their fingers run through the bowl of spice. It felt intriguing to Alicia to touch something new while her lover was touching her. She felt a hot current run through her body, and knew with certainty they would couple as soon as they got to their home.
“It’s far better than pepper,” the merchant explained. “Gently crushed or even whole, it can be used in spice rubs and in braises, and in a spiced cake it is simply delicious, mixed with cinnamon and cloves. But not only that – crushed into a fine powder, it can be used to help open wounds close, and to reduce boils and swellings.”
Alicia struggled to come back to her transaction. She did not place such great faith in the merchant, and resolved to ask an apothecary about the true properties of this new spice. Yet it seemed there should be no harm in buying some grains of Paradise to try.
“Paradise,” her husband mused. “Why is it called grains of Paradise? On account of its heavenly taste?”
The merchant smiled knowingly.
“My lord, some count it even better than saffron for those who want to make their loving hot. Use half a spoon of powdered grains in a jug of hot milk with cinnamon and you will get to judge for yourselves, both you and your lady. Both men and women are the better for tasting it.”
Bertran laughed with good humour.
“What say you, wife?” he said, and winked mischievously at Alicia.
Alicia tasted some of the spice that the merchant had crushed for her. It burned hot on her tongue. Hotter than pepper.
“Perchance a couple of ounces,” she muttered, striving hard to keep her head clear until they reached their home.
The haggling soon followed, because the mer
chant seemed set on requiring an outrageous price of them, but Alicia held her own. It was Bertran who put an end to her bargaining, when it had been going on for perhaps more than a quarter of an hour.
“Enough. We’ll take the lot now,” he called to the merchant, tossing to him the coins for the last price the merchant had been stubbornly calling for, after Alicia had made him considerably reduce the first figure he’d mentioned.
The merchant beamed, and added a small additional pouch of powdered grains of Paradise to the bag of spices he handed them, proclaiming the lord and lady should try its benefits as soon as can be when they reached their home.
Alicia glared at her husband, when he began to lead her away.
“You should have left me more time to bargain with him. He was sure to give us an even lower price.”
“My lady wife, I am sorry for spoiling your enjoyment of haggling,” Bertran told her with a chuckle.
“I don’t enjoy…” Alicia started, but he cut her off.
“Aye, you do. And under different circumstances, I would have let you have your fun. Yet there is pressing business I have on my mind, and the hour was growing late…”
Alicia stifled a sigh, understanding he was right after all. She had been a fool to think of coupling in the middle of the day, when there were so many of their chores left unattended.
She tried to hide her disappointment, and concentrated on feeling pleased with her new purchases which would help her replenish their spice chest.
The walk to their home felt to Bertran perhaps the longest of his life. It was with relief that he stepped inside his house, behind his lady wife.
“Let us head upstairs,” he whispered softly in her ear, and had the pleasure of seeing her widen her eyes.
“What, now, my lord?” she stammered.
“Aye, now,” he told her tersely, giving her a gentle push to the stairs that led to their bedchamber.
“But your pressing business?” his wife muttered.
“This is it,” he replied casting her a wide grin, and feeling his blood pump even hotter in his veins when he saw colour rise in her cheeks.
Yet she instantly heeded his command, as a sweet, obedient wife should. He grinned as he followed her up the stairs, letting his eyes roam on the inviting swish of her hips. She was not, in fact, a sweet, obedient wife, but a spirited woman who craved hot loving as much as he did. And he’d not missed her open invitation at the market. He’d been in agony over getting home to honour this invitation as soon as could be. He’d have paid the merchant whatever he’d asked only to head home to see to his spirited wife. Yet he’d also enjoyed seeing his lady bargain, and he’d savoured the way her passionate eyes sparkled and her voice got heated as she was doing so. There was a hot fierceness about his wife, and he was beginning to understand he would never wish to trade that fierceness for anything in the world.
He tossed the bag of spices in a corner of their chamber after he closed the door behind them, but as he did so, a wicked thought came into his head. She had taunted him at the spice stall, hadn’t she, this naughty wife of his. This wife of his who was naughty rather than sweet.
“Methinks we should try the power of this new spice,” he said softly, as he went to search for the pouch of powdered grains of Paradise.
He soon found it, and had the pleasure to see a look of puzzlement on his naughty wife’s face.
“What, now? Perchance it’s best to talk to an apothecary before we add it to food or drink.”
He chuckled, pleased he’d confounded her.
“Who said anything about a drink?” he tossed at her.
He’d never done this, but he’d heard one of the lords at Court talk of it. Certain salves or pepper worked well for the particular purpose the lord had told them about. Yet this lord’s particular purpose had been punishment. Bertran’s particular purpose was pleasure. Of the hot kind.
“It was, I thought, rather naughty and unbecoming of you to talk about your lord’s prowess in bed to a stranger. Don’t you find?” he said, making his voice a mixture of harshness and invitation.
Alicia’s sparkling eyes widened even more.
“Was it?” she asked, and she looked puzzled.
Bertran cast her a wicked smile, as he applied some of the powdered grains of Paradise on his hand. It felt hot, and soon he knew his hand would begin to sting faintly – a sting that on his wife’s skin would feel somewhere between pain and pleasure. So it was perfect for what he had in mind.
“What are you doing?” Alicia asked in sheer shock and surprise.
“Making sure the lesson I deliver will lead to an appropriate sting,” Bertran said, as he went to seat himself on the bed and patted his lap.
He loved the way his wife looked at him, with both longing and apprehension.
“Husband…” she muttered uncertainly.
“Come here, lady wife. Right now,” he called to her, making his voice both playful and stern. His heart began to race in his chest when she complied, and soon he had her draped across his lap with her skirts hoisted. He wasted no time sliding his heated palm over the skin of her lush behind.
“Ahh…”
Her voice was full of heat as, he was certain, she was already beginning to feel the hot pepper of his caressing touch. He soon started to spank lightly, and had occasion to hear his lady begin to moan. He was able to feel the peppery sting in his own hand, and he knew a scorching heat was beginning to build on the skin of his lady’s naughty bottom. He didn’t even have to spank hard for her to be able to feel the agonizing pleasure of the sting.
“So, lady wife,” he asked wickedly, “does that feel like paradise to you?”
She did not answer, and he landed a hard spank on her already pink buttocks in order to make her come to attention.
“Both hell and paradise,” she muttered at last, and it was plain she was striving to find her words.
Bertran heaved a deep sigh and let her slide off his lap, because at this time, his cock was too stiff and ready, and he could no longer prolong this hot torture. Soon, he had Alicia astride him, and he drove into her deeply, loving the feel of her already hot behind against his thighs as he was driving in and out of her. The lovemaking proved quite invigorating, and they were both ready to return to their pressing chores when they were done at last, although, by the half-glaring half-dreamy look on his lady wife’s face, and by the way she rubbed her bottom before she straightened her skirts, the hot pepper in the grains of Paradise had made a lasting impression upon her.
“A worthy idea for a punishment when you truly misbehave,” Bertran tossed at her, as he was setting his own clothing to rights.
She cast him a true glare this time, and he grinned broadly, loving to tease her even further.
“What?” he added innocently, as he was heading to the door. “Already loath to enjoy the benefits of this new spice you’ve purchased?”
He did not let her give her own retort, and left the room, closing the door behind him, smug with his teasing. However, he’d left the room in haste because he’d already begun thinking of new, hot lovemaking he could bestow upon his lady right now. And it was true there were several duties waiting for both of them today, so their loving would have to wait until night fell.
Chapter 11
A few days later, Alicia received a summons from the queen to come to Court. She complied with a heavy heart and a deep sigh because, in truth, these days of mere housewifery had been a good respite from her usual life, which was much busier and included other, more pressing duties. She prepared for the tedious, humiliating chores as a lady-in-attendance at Court, as well as for the scorn of all those who’d seen her bare bottom thoroughly chastised on her wedding day.
The ladies-in-waiting tittered when Alicia came to see the queen in her chambers, and the lady Edith, whom Alicia remembered well from her wedding night, bore a downright malicious sneer upon her face.
“Leave us,” the queen said tersely, shooing away her atten
dants and beckoning Alicia to seat herself in a chair in front of her.
Alicia complied, schooling her expression to look serene and betray nothing of the scorching humiliation she was feeling at the ladies’ disdainful treatment.
Eleanor frowned at her.
“It could not be helped, you know. Your punishment. My husband saw the letter as an open threat to his own authority. He’s become restless these days… thinking his eldest son and I wish to challenge him in his rule.”
Alicia nodded, knowing it was wise to stay silent. Young Henry, Queen Eleanor’s eldest son by their king, who was now seventeen had been already crowned as the second king of their land, according to the Capetian custom. Yet Alicia knew too well King Henry had now started to resent both his wife and his son for this. He saw them as threats to his own rule, and now he sought to restrain the queen’s influence, thinking she was already plotting with their son to overthrow him. Alicia believed it was the king’s own tyrannical behaviour that was strengthening Eleanor’s opposition to him, yet Eleanor was herself arrogant and vain. Both monarchs shared this unfortunate trait, and since for some years now Henry had tossed the older Eleanor from his bed to openly carouse with his mistresses, Eleanor felt even more entitled to show him she would not be so lightly dismissed.
“My husband will have my son be king of nothing. King in name only. He fears I seek to gain even more power through my offspring…” Queen Eleanor went on, echoing Alicia’s own thoughts.
The queen cast Alicia a level glance.
“I do not wish strife or war though. I only wish my husband to acknowledge my son’s position, and not treat him with disdain. Disdain…” she repeated the word, bitterly. “Enough of this,” Eleanor added, with a wave of her hand. “I’ve come to England to see my son formally wed at Winchester, to Marguerite of France, and to make sure he is given the authority due to him.”
Eleanor had never been a woman to mince words, a trait which Alicia admired in her. Yet she feared Eleanor’s bluntness was making her royal husband perceive her even more as a threat. Again, the queen spoke as if she’d guessed Alicia’s thoughts.
