His Bride

by Gayle Callen

  This time when Gwyneth entered the village, people waved to her. Will introduced her to those she didn’t know, and soon she had a few more young men and women ready to come work at Castle Wintering. She even talked with the seamstress, who agreed to make regular visits to the castle several days a week.

  “Would ye like to meet me ma?” Will asked with excitement, when they’d left the seamstress’s parlor. “We live in a room behind the carpenter’s shop.”

  “I would love to meet your mother,” she said.

  On the way, Will explained that his father had died when he was young and his mother supported them by working at the tavern. “She serves the food, milady, and since ’tis not quite dinner yet, she’ll be home.”

  They walked through a narrow alley between gray stone buildings, behind which was a small field planted with vegetables and flowers. He flung wide the only door at the rear of the building, and she winced, hoping his mother wasn’t caught at a private moment.

  A woman stood at the table just inside, pinning on an apron. Her hair was shiny black and her face pale and lovely. She must have borne her son when she was very young. She gave a little jump as she glanced up at them, then her eyes flickered back to her son with a worried frown.

  “Will! Please don’t tell me Blackwell let ye go.”

  “No, Mum. I’m runnin’ errands with Lady Blackwell. Here she is!”

  The woman’s eyes widened as if she’d only just seen Gwyneth standing outside her door. “Milady! Please come in.” She gave her son a scolding glance as Gwyneth entered the room. “Will Atwater, ye should have introduced us proper.”

  Gwyneth smiled. “Please, Mrs. Atwater, I enjoy your son’s high spirits. He’s a good lad.”

  The woman smiled back at her as the boy sat down at the table and lifted a pear from the bowl. “Thank you, milady. And call me Prudence. Will is doin’ all he should?”

  She got the impression that Prudence wished to ask more but wouldn’t. Though the woman was polite, there was speculation in her gaze every time she looked at Gwyneth.

  “My husband is quite pleased with Will’s service. He was the first boy Sir Edmund recommended when I asked for a groom to accompany me.”

  “Do ye like livin’ at the castle, milady?”

  “I never thought I could enjoy it so much. I’m from London, and this is quite a bit different.”

  “Aye, the fresh air and all,” Prudence said, as she pulled a linen cap over her head. “I have to be at the tavern, but would ye walk with me, milady?”

  The two women walked across the green with Will running ahead of them. Clouds had begun to cover the sun and brooded over the village with the threat of rain.

  “Is that not yer husband?” Prudence asked.

  Gwyneth turned her head in surprise and found Edmund dismounting near the well in the center of the green. Will ran off to help him with The General, leaving the women alone.

  “I guess ye can’t get away from yer husband’s eye,” Prudence said dryly.

  Gwyneth glanced at her in confusion.

  “Ye know he probably doesn’t want ye talkin’ to me.”

  “Why?” She stared hard at the young woman, wishing she understood what emotions lingered beneath her peculiar words.

  “I tried to do him a favor once. Tried to lure him away from that cold fish that was his first wife.”

  Gwyneth was amazed that Prudence would tell her such a personal thing—about her own husband, yet!

  Prudence’s smile died, and she stared at Edmund with a narrowed gaze. “Aye, the poor man looked like he needed a little comfort.” She gave Gwyneth a false smile. “But he’s got you for that now, hasn’t he?”

  Chapter 12

  At first, Gwyneth could only blink in shock. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me this, Prudence. Are you trying to warn me of your intentions?”

  “Heavens, no, milady. Ye seem like a good wife for him. Just thought ye’d want to know what kind a woman he was married to before, so ye didn’t make the same mistakes.”

  Gwyneth gave her a gentle smile. “She was my cousin.”

  Prudence’s face reddened. “I—forgive me, milady.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive.” She hesitated, casting a guilty glance at Edmund before turning back to Will’s mother. “I didn’t know her well, and when we did speak, she treated me with a disdain I couldn’t fathom.”

  The woman nodded fervently. “There was no respect in her for anyone, least of all her husband. I saw that he tried to treat her nice, but she wanted none of it. Never saw a man so patient with a woman.”

  Gwyneth patted her arm. “I thank you for the information.”

  After Prudence had bobbed a curtsy and hurried away, Gwyneth walked toward her husband, who was watering his horse. She watched him contemplatively, relieved to know he could be faithful, even to Elizabeth. Prudence had told her what she’d already known deep in her heart: that Edmund had done his best when married to Elizabeth. But then, she knew him to be an honorable man.

  Yet it couldn’t be only the memory of Elizabeth that made him so wary of her. Gwyneth herself was related to the Langstons. Whenever Edmund looked at her, did he remember how they’d portrayed him as a murderer?

  As she approached, Edmund looked up. “Are you finished with your errands?”

  “Aye. Are you? I assume that is why you came, and not because of me.”

  His eyes seemed to lighten, though he didn’t smile. “It was. I promise you I did not know I’d have to come see the carpenter when you left this morning.”

  She grinned. “I was not accusing you of anything, Edmund.”

  “’Tis good to know.”

  He gave a whistle, making The General’s ears twitch, and Will come running. Edmund put his large hand on the boy’s head.

  “I’ll take my wife home, Will. Thank you for the excellent care you’ve shown her.”

  “Do ye not need me back at the castle, milord?”

  Edmund looked up at the overcast sky. “The weather is turning. You go play with your friends, and I shall see you on the morrow.”

  Wearing a beaming smile, the boy gave a quick nod to both of them and ran off.

  Gwyneth studied her husband, who finally looked down at her. He must have seen her talking to Prudence, and she could only imagine what he was thinking.

  But all he asked was, “Are you ready to leave?”

  “I am rather hungry,” she answered, glancing at the tavern.

  He hesitated, and she barely stopped herself from smiling. Perhaps he did not wish to see Prudence again.

  “I still have much to do at the castle,” he said, “and the sky does not look good. We’ll purchase meat pies and eat them on the way.”

  She nodded and walked at his side to the tavern. Inside, Edmund gave their order to Goodman Walcot, and Gwyneth smiled and waved at Prudence, who blushed even as she nodded in response. When Prudence was finished waiting on her table, Gwyneth told her about Will remaining in town. The woman thanked her and hurried away without looking at Edmund.

  When they were riding The General out of the village, Gwyneth finished her pie and said, “You seem nervous, Edmund.”

  “Nervous?” he echoed. “I am concerned that the coming storm might be severe.”

  “Is that all? Or could it be that you’re wondering what I was talking to Prudence Atwater about?”

  “She is Will’s mother,” Edmund said.

  She thought she heard a note of caution in his voice. “She is that.” Leaning her head back against his shoulder, she looked up into his face. “She also wanted to tell me that she once tried to seduce you away from Elizabeth.”

  He winced. “She felt the need to say that, did she?”

  “I think she wanted to shock me.”

  “Probably.”

  “She claimed it was because she didn’t want me to make the same mistakes Elizabeth did.”

  “How kind of her.”

  Gwyneth grinned at his sarcas
m. “She thought so.”

  “And what do you think?” he asked, glancing down at her.

  “I think she confirmed for me that you can be faithful even to a wife who treats you as Elizabeth did.”

  She thought he clenched his jaw as he looked back at the road. “And how would you know about my first marriage?”

  “Prudence told me a little. Now, don’t be angry,” she said, putting up a hand as if to stop the lowering of his brow. “I admit I led her to speak by telling her that Elizabeth didn’t treat me well. All she said was that you were patient and kind to your wife, things I have always seen in you.”

  She wanted to kiss his stoic face. It must have been horrible to have his patience and love rewarded with indifference and cruelty.

  With a sigh, she finally said, “But I imagine you don’t want to talk about it any more.”

  “Nay, I do not.”

  She leaned even further into his embrace, letting his arm support her back and his chest support her side. She even dared to rest her head against that very comfortable chest and allow the rocking of the horse to soothe her.

  “’Tis a shame my sister Athelina isn’t here.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Both times I’ve been to the village, I’ve seen children running about. Athelina is a very learned woman, and I’m certain she would want to open a small school to teach the children.”

  “This is the sister who likes books.”

  She glanced up at him in surprise. “You remembered!”

  He raised one eyebrow. “’Twas not difficult. There are only three of them.”

  “Well, Papa thinks she would do well as a teacher, although most of the teachers in London are men.”

  “We have a teacher here, a woman.”

  “Oh,” she said, then sighed.

  “You are disappointed that the children are learning?”

  Again she thought there was amusement in his voice.

  “Of course not. I am merely relieved.” How could she explain that she was only trying to interest him in her family, maybe eventually invite them for a visit? He might be more inclined to help them with their marriages if he met them.

  Several drops of rain splashed across her face, and she looked up at the sky. The gray clouds had massed together into inky blackness. She sighed again. “Wet for the second time in one day.”

  “We need to move faster,” Edmund said, “but ’tis difficult to gallop with you lying across my lap. You need to ride astride.”

  “But Edmund, there cannot be room on this saddle for two.”

  “It has a low cantle, so I can slide back.”

  The rain was coming faster now, and Gwyneth found her hips squeezed between the pommel and her husband. He put an arm around her waist and lifted her up.

  “Slide your right leg up over the horse.”

  “But my skirts!” she cried, even as the rain soaked into her hair and slid down her face.

  “Surely they’re wide enough,” he said into her ear.

  Pressing back into her husband, she lifted her bent leg over the horse, then adjusted her skirt to sit on it rather than on the bare saddle. She smoothed the rest of the fabric down her legs and discovered to her relief that only her ankles and feet were showing.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard above the rising wind.

  She nodded and gave a little gasp as he slid against her. His hips pressed into her buttocks, his thighs were molded to hers, and his arms came around her to grip the reins. She could only hold on to the pommel with panicked excitement.

  “We’re going to start galloping. Just move with the horse’s gait as I do. You’ll be all right.”

  “Edmund, I’ve never—”

  He pressed his hand against her stomach, and her breath caught.

  “Relax.”

  How could she relax, when his splayed fingers were barely above her spread thighs? But before she could dwell on the wicked pleasure of that, she felt his thighs tighten, and The General burst into a gallop. She could only hold on. The rain poured down on them, sheets of it, which soaked through every layer of her clothing. Edmund leaned forward over her, urging the horse ever faster to speeds she had never imagined. The countryside moved by in a rain-soaked blur. When she got over her fright, there came a sense of exhilaration, of feeling that this was where she was meant to be, with this man whose body enfolded hers.

  When the castle courtyard and the broken-down walls loomed ahead out of the gloom, she was almost disappointed.

  But she couldn’t be, not when she felt so free on this horse. As they slowed down, she straightened and threw her arms wide up to the sky, opening her mouth to taste the cool rain. In the deserted courtyard, Edmund didn’t even wait for her approval. He just lifted her leg over the horse, and dropped her down to the ground in a maneuver they both were getting to know well.

  Gwyneth leaned against his leg, laughing up at him. To her surprise, he was smiling down at her, a smile so wonderful and alive that she felt as if someone had caught her lungs and squeezed. He was such a handsome man when he grinned like that, with strong, white teeth and those blue eyes that sparkled with merriment. She wanted to see that expression every day of her life.

  He flung himself off the horse and led it into the stable, and she ran behind him.

  “Where is everyone?” she called, as he loosened the saddle and pulled it off The General’s back.

  “Probably in the great hall, waiting for the storm to pass.”

  “Then we’re alone?”

  He glanced at her and looked away, leading the horse into his stall. “Perhaps.”

  Gwyneth eyed the large mound of fresh hay piled between the stalls. She waited for Edmund to emerge, and then she gave him a hard push. She must have caught him unawares, because he fell backward, and she let herself fall with him. She landed on his long, hard body, and felt a thrill as their legs twined together.

  She grinned into his surprised face, propping her arms on his chest. “Oops. That was an accident.”

  Suddenly he rolled them over until she was on her back. For a moment she thought he would leave her, but then his body covered hers, his hips holding her down. He braced himself with his elbows on either side of her.

  “That was an accident too,” he murmured.

  Her smile died as she absorbed the overwhelming feeling of having this man’s body touch every bit of hers. She didn’t feel crushed, only sheltered by the pleasurable weight of him. Her restless legs wanted to part, to let him slide between them, but her skirts trapped her.

  When Edmund did nothing but stare down into her eyes, then at her mouth, she reached up and framed his face with her hands.

  “Will you do that again?” she whispered.

  “Fall?”

  “Smile.”

  But he didn’t. If anything, his eyes darkened with an intensity that might have frightened her if she hadn’t felt so drawn to him. When he leaned down and gently kissed her cheek, she gave a little moan.

  “Raindrop,” he said. He kissed her other cheek. “Another one.”

  He pressed tantalizing little kisses all over her face until she tilted her chin and whispered, “I’m very wet.”

  His mouth trailed down her neck, and she felt his tongue tease behind her ear. She pressed her face into his hair, kissing him, holding him against her. Of its own volition, her body moved against his, rubbing, needing more of this incredible sensation.

  He shifted, and suddenly her skirts gave a bit and she could spread her legs. His hips settled between them, and his hands caught her face only a moment before his mouth covered hers.

  She was better prepared this time and gladly parted her lips to meet his tongue with hers. She felt selfish in her need to explore his mouth, to suckle his lip between her own. The kiss was hot and greedy in its speed, and the lack of gentleness only made it more wildly exciting.

  Edmund couldn’t get enough of the taste of her, of flowers under a spri
ng rain. He’d spent the whole day remembering how she’d looked with bath water sparkling on her face. It had taken every ounce of his control to keep from touching her, but he could resist no longer. He had one hand grasping her ribs, and he was moving slowly higher, while she breathlessly moaned and squirmed against him. He rubbed his hips into hers, wanting to pull her skirts up and thrust himself inside her.

  Instead, he rolled off her and lay on his back for a moment, breathing deeply, raggedly.

  Gwyneth came up on her elbow and grinned at him. “That was very enjoyable.”

  Hay stuck out of her long blond hair like the spines of a porcupine he’d seen in France, and her mouth was swollen from what he’d done to her. There was even a red mark below her ear. Quickly he sat up, running his hands through his hair.

  “I must dry off The General, and you need to get out of those wet clothes.”

  With her eyes she seemed to be imploring him to help with that task.

  He turned away. “Go on.”

  “Shall I see you at supper?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve been gone too long.”

  She stood up, and to his surprise, leaned down to kiss the top of his head. Frustrated, aching, he watched her saunter away. At the stable door, she paused and looked up at the sky. Before she could take another step, Geoff came running across the courtyard with a cloak over his arm. He ducked into the stable, bowed to Gwyneth, then spread the cloak wide with a dramatic flourish.

  Edmund found himself slightly irritated, then grew even more so when Gwyneth giggled. She allowed Geoff to place the cloak around her shoulders. When her back was turned, Geoff winked at him.

  Edmund frowned and started to say something, but Geoff was already leading her across the courtyard. What the hell was that about?

  Then his mind went back to the kiss, and he sat in the hay feeling bemused and uncertain. He had only done what she’d expected. She thought he was giving her a chance, getting to know her better, maybe even courting. To her, kissing was part of that.