by Starla Kaye
His chest filled with pride just watching her. All here at Middlemound adored her, as did he. She’d blossomed now that she was free of Stewart and made love to daily by him. Rowan had been right; his wife was a very passionate woman. She’d just never been allowed to experience it until now.
He heard footsteps in the hard dirt coming up from behind him and drew in the familiar scent. Rowan.
Rowan stopped next to him and followed the direction of his gaze. “You’ve been good for her, my friend. Tis rare to see pain in Gloriana’s eyes these days. She smiles freely now, shares her warmth with all around her.” “Aye, she does.” Thomas admired the way her sweet bottom wiggled as she bent over to tug a stubborn carrot from the earth. He shifted to adjust his instant erection. He’d gotten used to having to do so since their first bedding. He felt guilty for only having sought Rowan out four times this past week. But his wife took to loving well. She’d proved to be demanding in bed, which he certainly didn’t mind. Still, he missed the powerful ways in which he and Rowan came together. He was afraid of being as forceful with her.
He faced his first knight, and his breath caught at seeing Rowan’s bare, heavily muscled chest. His fingers ached to touch him, to wipe at the sweat beading his nearly hairless chest. The day was hot and Rowan, as some of the other men, had chosen to practice without the hot chainmail and undershirts. “I want you,” he said huskily, quietly, so no one could hear.
Rowan’s eyes darkened, his nostrils flared as he, too, appeared to deal with a desperate longing. If they’d been alone, Thomas knew Rowan would have pulled him forward. He would have felt Rowan’s lips pressed to his. They would have held one another for long minutes as the fire built between them. Then…
Thomas blew out a deep breath of frustration. They were not alone. Both had duties to attend to and long hours ahead before they could even consider coming together.
He forced his thoughts in another direction. “She continues to press me about having a baby. She refuses to accept my reasoning for not giving her one,” he stated the problem he’d been dealing with. “And she is growing suspicious of the teas I insist she drink every night.” He’d practically had to pour it down her throat last night.
“Teas?” Rowan cocked an eyebrow, his tone suspicious. “A tea to keep from allowing a babe to grow in her belly.” Thomas would have to change methods to keep her from becoming pregnant. He hated the thought of withdrawing from her body before shooting his load into her. And he wasn’t fond of wearing a sheath of snakeskin or sheepskin. “I could insist she dip a piece of wool in a mixture of ground dates, tree bark and honey and insert it into her body. She would not like it.” Admittedly, he was disgusted at that idea as well. The tea was much simpler.
Rowan looked at him like he was a foolish man. “I suspect Gloriana would not do it. I can’t see her using a douche of blood, herbs, oils and animal dung, either. Nor should you ask it of her.” He ground his teeth in irritation. “Thomas, you…”
“Nay!” Thomas snapped and drew the attention of a pair of men walking toward the keep. Gloriana, too, stood and glanced in their direction. He sighed and lowered his voice, “I will not discuss the matter further. My decision has been made.”
Frowning and shaking his head in disgust, Rowan turned and walked away without another word.
***
An hour later Gloriana stopped stirring the large pot of spicy venison stew in the kitchen. It was sweltering hot. Perspiration beaded her face, trickled down her back. She needed a breath of fresh air. More than that, though, she needed to find her husband. It had been bothering her how he’d snapped at Rowan in the bailey and then how his friend had turned and strode away in anger. It worried her that they argued. They’d seemed to grow distant this past week, and she worried about that, too. She wanted to know what was bothering them. She wanted to fix whatever it was, and she prayed she wasn’t somehow the problem. They needed each other. Thomas needed her as well. She could sense that in him, but he needed Rowan in a different way. “I will be back later,” she told the cook, motioning one of the young maids over to take her place. “I must talk a bit with my husband.”
The older woman gave her a saucy smile. “He’s a fine-looking man, our new lord. Gruff at times, but never with you.”
“He hasn’t had an easy time of things. All he’s known is warring.” Gloriana tipped her chin up in his defense.
“Don’t get all ruffled, my lady. I was not talking against your new husband. Many men are gruff.” The cook gave her a sympathetic look. “Lord Thomas is a good man. All here know it. All here have seen the way he looks at you, the gentleness that comes over him.”
She chuckled. “We’ve not missed how you brighten up when he enters a room. Tis clear there’s strong feelings between you, even in such a short time.” She winked. “Take as long as you need with him, my lady.”
Gloriana caught the amused and envious glances of the three young maids nearby. Her face heated knowing they believed she was seeking Thomas out for more than a mere ‘talk.’ The notion wasn’t half bad, and she wouldn’t turn him down if he wanted to take her up to their bedchamber.
“I really do want to talk with him,” she stated stubbornly and strode from the room to the accompaniment of more chuckles.
The search for her husband was frustrating. She checked the great hall, which was nearly empty at this time of afternoon. She checked their bedchamber, the solar, and even Rowan’s chamber. Finally she went out onto the keep’s steps and the hot sun bore down on her.
She stood on the top step and squinted to look around the area. A couple dozen of the men continued to practice with their wooden swords in the bailey. Another bunch of men worked with their horses in one way or another near the paddocks. Villagers came and went all around the shops lining the inner walls and crossed over the lowered drawbridge heading back to the village. But nowhere did she see signs of Thomas or of Rowan. Mayhap they were off somewhere together fixing whatever problem had come between them. Or mayhap they were off somewhere fucking, as Thomas had said they did. She was all right with that, as long as Rowan wasn’t so hard on her husband this time. At some point she really did want to know about their lovemaking, mayhap even talk them into letting her watch them. She’d become very curious about the matter, even dreamt one night of observing them.
Tingles began low in her body at the naughty idea. What would her husband say if he knew where her thoughts wandered? How would he respond if she did truly ask about watching him and Rowan together?
“He rode out a short while ago, my lady,” Rowan said, walking up from around the corner of the keep.
Gloriana jerked in surprise, putting a hand to her breast. “You caught me off guard, Sir Rowan.”
“Sorry. One of the men who’d seen you searching the keep for Thomas told me a minute ago. I just thought I’d tell you he left. Sir Gerald rode with him. A couple of the serfs were having a problem and it required his mediation.”
She found it odd that Rowan hadn’t gone along as well. “Why did you not go with him instead of Sir Gerald, or with them?” She studied his face, noted the strained lines around his mouth. He wasn’t happy, had seemed to grow unhappier each day of late. “What troubles you? Can I help in some way?”
Some of the tension lifted in his expression. His eyes lost some of their sadness and for the first time she noticed his bare chest. God’s teeth, he’s a handsome man! She found it no wonder Thomas was drawn to him. She couldn’t help admiring him, feeling drawn to him as well. But wanting to touch him, even feel his lips on hers, was one matter, acting upon it an entirely other matter. She would not betray her husband that way, and she would not lead Rowan along a false path, either.
She didn’t think he was going to answer, but finally he said, “We are having a difference of opinion at the moment, tis all. We will get past it.” He looked away. “I hope.”
Gloriana followed his gaze and spotted Marie carrying a basket of vegetables from the garden towa
rd the kitchen. The woman smiled at him, and it was clear she would have liked him to come speak with her. But he merely nodded and didn’t move.
“Marie likes you,” Gloriana said, feeling strangely a bit jealous. Foolish, that. She was married to Thomas, liked her husband, and might even be starting to love him.
“She’s a kind-hearted woman, like you.” Rowan looked her way again. His eyes were heated now, as Thomas’s got when he wanted her. “But she’s not you.” Frustration etched his face.
Her gaze widened at his bold statement and she didn’t know what to say. “I…I…” “Do not worry, Gloriana, I will not act on my desire. I wouldn’t hurt you. I couldn’t hurt Thomas.” The sadness had returned to his eyes, and he turned to walk slowly toward the men by the paddocks. Stunned, she gaped after him. Good heavens! Surely he didn’t… But he bedded Marie, the maid had told her as much. No, he couldn’t… He was Thomas’s lover. Marie’s lover. But he’d said…
She hurried back into the safety of the keep, stopping to let her eyes adjust to the dimness. Then she all but raced up the stairs to the privacy of her bedchamber. She felt a sudden need to hide away.
For the first time in over a week, Gloriana quietly turned away Thomas’s attempt to make love that night. She claimed a headache. He’d been concerned, but he hadn’t pressed her. In truth, guilt for feeling attracted in any manner to Rowan weighed heavily on her.
She snuggled against Thomas, aching for him; yet unwilling to take his tender loving when her thoughts kept straying to Rowan. She was fairly certain that she loved Thomas. But she had a strong fondness for Rowan as well. Both men had been seriously hurt by things in their pasts, of this she was certain, though neither had admitted as much. Both difficult men needed a woman’s gentle healing. She wanted to heal them both. And she wanted to touch them both.
A tear trickled from the corner of one eye. Her life always seemed to be filled with problems difficult to overcome. She could not love two men.
Chapter Six
Gloriana had slept restlessly for the last six nights, torn by desire for her husband and by a longing she shouldn’t have for Rowan. Because of her torment she had been glad that her woman’s time of the month had come, although it had been nothing like prior times. She’d almost decided to talk to the elderly cook about it, but decided the difference this time must be due to stress. Still, she’d been disappointed by even the limited spotting she’d experienced. It meant Thomas hadn’t given her a babe like she desperately wanted. He’d started to keep his distance from her, partly, she knew, because she’d become so moody. He had even slept in another chamber—possibly Rowan’s, she didn’t know—the last couple of nights. She’d told him yesterday that her monthly had ended, but he hadn’t joined her in their bed that night, either. Mayhap she’d been wrong; mayhap he didn’t have as strong a feeling for her as she’d thought.
She rolled onto her stomach and clutched the pillow as the first rays of dawn began slipping in through the nearby window. Tears filled her eyes. She was too depressed to even think about getting out of bed to begin another day.
A movement next to her on the bed startled her. Thomas? When had he come to their bed? How could she have not noticed? But his scent drifted over her and her mood lightened. It was enough to know that he had finally returned to their bed.
She started to turn over to face him, but he stopped her with a hand to the middle of her back.
“Nay, stay as you are, wife.” His tone was the deep, husky timbre that she’d missed hearing. He removed his hand and shifted so that he could pull the thin linen covering to the end of the bed.
“I will remove my chemise.” Again, she attempted to turn over, intending to sit up. Again, he held her pressed to the mattress. He touched her long braid for a second, and then moved it to one side. While she shivered from that gentle touch, he shoved her long gown up and over her back, baring her buttocks. The cool air of early morning swept over her, and she felt wickedly exposed.
He caressed her bottom and the cheeks quivered in response. Tingles of longing shot through her. She savored his touch, every gentle caress. She’d missed him, missed their lovemaking. Her mound rubbed against the bed linen and the ache she felt grew more intense. She needed more. She needed him inside her, now.
She couldn’t resist pushing her bottom back at him, although this was not a position they’d used before. She wasn’t sure what to do. “Thomas,” she sighed and pushed again at his hand still on her bottom.
He continued to smooth his hands over her tingling flesh and straddled her legs. “We’ve not made love this way, Glori,” he said, sounding strained.
“I know, husband.” She was curious, yet she was uncertain, too.
He trailed a long finger down the cleft of her buttocks, slipping it to her swollen lower lips. “I very much want to do this. Are you all right with it?”
“Aye,” she gasped, squirming as his finger found her pulsing bud. “Aye! Do whatever you wish, my lord. But do it soon!”
Thankfully, he didn’t make her beg again. His engorged rod moved against her from behind. She felt just the tip of it at her entrance and her stomach fluttered with nerves. Cautiously, she pushed back.
Without another word, he put an arm beneath her stomach to lift her just enough that he could drive into her in one smooth motion. She sucked in a breath, froze in place. So full. So different from other times. She trembled and adjusted quickly as he waited patiently behind her.
The desperate need to move spread through her. She wiggled her bottom against him. “My lord, you must do something! Move! Now!”
“As you wish, my lady,” his words came out huskily.
Obeying her command, he shifted his other arm beneath her. The feel of him all around her only served to make her tremble in anticipation. Then one of his magical fingers found her clit at the same time he began to steadily thrust in and out of her.
Gloriana’s thoughts scattered, lost in the whirlwind of sensations spinning through her. His long, thick rod drove deep over and over, each slide moving along her tingling inner muscles. She attempted to squeeze him and prolong the wild feelings of each drive. As he stretched out over her, his large body shuddered, his heart pounded, as did hers.
He shifted backward onto his knees again, moved his hands to grip her hips. Pounding into her, he bit out almost angrily, “I crave your body. I cannot do without it. You cannot torture me like this again.”
“Ohhhh, Thomas!” Her whole body squirmed against the bed. Fire, she felt like she was on fire, both inside and out. Her breaths were ragged. Her mind grew fuzzy. All she could think of was the wondrous rod driving into her. She thrust desperately back to meet him. “Ohhhh, ohhhh, ohhhh!”
She stopping moving, stopped breathing. He held still behind her as if he knew what would happen next. And then her juices flowed over him as he lay buried inside her. She moaned so deeply it felt like it came up from her toes. “Uhhhhh.”
Clutching the pillow and fighting her way back to reality, she waited for her husband’s mighty release, waited for his juices to flood within her. This time, this time he will give me a babe. She was sure of it.
Then while in the midst of a wild flurry of driving into her, while grunting in frantic need, he suddenly pulled out of her body. Before she could even cry out her complaint, his warm cream spurted over her bare bottom. It was such an odd feeling, his cream slowly dripping all over her cheeks and between her legs. But she didn’t mind that. What she minded was not getting his seed poured within her.
“What do you, husband?” she craned her head around to gape at him. “You could have given me a babe!”
He scowled and immediately crawled off the bed, still breathing heavily. “I have already told you, I will not give you a babe. You must accept that, Gloriana.” “Nay, I cannot.” Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed in misery. She saw the tightness in his body; saw the way a vein pulsed in the side of his neck. She’d seen Geoffrey look this way too many tim
es. Instinctively, she tensed, heart racing. She waited for Thomas to lose his temper, as Geoffrey would have when she dared to say anything he didn’t want to hear. She waited for him to lean down and slap her.
He must have seen her fear because he growled several curses and then turned to walk away from her. His footsteps were so heavy that they sounded as if he stomped across the wooden floor. He went to the trunk and grabbed a rag, though she had no idea why.
His jaw was tight when he faced her again.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” she apologized anxiously, hoping it would soothe his anger.
He blew out a breath as if he were trying to calm down. Yet as he walked back, it wasn’t fury she saw in his eyes, it was sadness. She wanted to ask him about it, ask him to explain why he so fervently refused to even consider having another child. But she held her tongue. She was too emotional at the moment to try and talk logically. So she waited to see what her husband would do next.
He didn’t say a word as he stopped beside the bed and leaned toward her with the rag. She stiffened in wariness. “Thomas?” “Lie still.” She obeyed though her heart raced. To her surprise he gently wiped his cream from her buttocks and legs. It was such a tender act, so in contrast to the harsh words he’d spoken only moments ago.
“You will have my son to mother. That will have to be enough for you.” He spoke quietly this time, his tone echoing with strain, with pain he carried and couldn’t seem to share with her. He pulled her chemise down to cover her once more and finally admitted, “I cannot lose another wife in childbirth. I cannot.”
Gloriana drew in a shaky breath and sat up, wiping at her tears. Frustration curled through her, for her longing for a babe, for Thomas and the pain he must have suffered. “Not all women die in childbirth, Thomas. I will not die giving birth.”
Such horrible anguish filled his face as he looked at her that it pinched her heart. She recalled him telling her that he hadn’t loved his first wife and that she hadn’t loved him. He’d also told her that Sarah had died giving birth to James. When he’d spoken of this, she’d felt empathy for what he’d gone through, a bit of jealousy as well, although she’d felt too ashamed to even think about that. Sarah had died, but her child had lived. Thomas had a son, someone of his own blood, even though he’d apparently been away from James for most of his young life.
