by Amber Dane
Aye, defiance. He almost smiled as it came to him. Survival and kindness too, that Aric found intrigued him so. Her lashes were long and plenty. He felt he could stare into them all night. Her flowery headdress accentuated her dark skin against the purple gown. Her skin was almost as dark as his. She must spend a lot of time out of doors, he suspected.
He felt another smile tug at his lips and he stopped it before it formed. She had a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her small nose. Aric could not take his eyes from her.
When their hands nearly collided in reaching for their cups, he noticed the roughened calluses on her hands. He knew she had noticed he’d taken note, for although she did not look at him; she slid both of her hands beneath the linen covering the table, out of sight and kept them there for the remainder of the evening.
Aric’s eyes fell upon her cousin and he was not surprised to find Thomas’s eyes on him. Men like Thomas put him ill at ease and that was hard to do. Men like this peacock were forever conniving and most of all unpredictable. He already knew in the hour that he had been in their presence that he could never like the man. Yet, all the same, Aric nodded, his face set in stone and Thomas smiled, lust shooting from those beady eyes. Aric could not wait for the day he would be able to cut that look from the man’s ruddy face.
Chapter 3
Danielle fidgeted again as Edie tried to wrap a fat braid near her ear.
“Milady, if you do not sit still, we will never get done.” Edie sighed with vexation.
Danielle pulled her braid out of her maid’s hand and twisted around on the stool toward the light coming through her chamber window.
“Edie, you know I detest such styles. Just leave it be. This is who I am and it was just like this last night, so it’s not as if he has not seen it.”
“But milady, you are to be married within moments. ‘Twill only be for the ceremony.” Edie pleaded.
Danielle groaned loudly and cast her two fat braids over her shoulder. “That is why I cannot sit still. I don’t want to marry this man, Edie. My prayers went unanswered. He will treat me no better than Thomas or my father did. He is not our savior.”
“Milady, he did show kindness to you after that witch tripped you.”
Danielle tilted her head, remembering. “Yea. A hint, mayhap.” She refused to believe it was anything more than that. He’d not spoken to her much at all, but his friend, Balwain had. Still, Danielle felt unease settle over her.
“I tell you, your cousin fears him too.” Edie added.
Danielle had noticed the odd way Thomas had behaved. But could someone as mean spirited and selfish as Thomas be afraid of anyone? Danielle groaned again. “Was it too much to pray for a man that would see more to Gravane than gain and greed?”
“Is that all that bothers you, milady?”
Danielle turned and looked up at the odd sound of her maid’s voice. “What do you mean?”
“Norman or not. He is quite handsome.” Edie tittered.
Danielle’s mouth opened and closed and she felt the heat burn her cheeks. “I did not notice.” She shrugged off the falsehood as Edie stood back with her hands on her hips and an expression of doubt on her pretty face.
Danielle turned back around. “What does it matter anyhow? He looks at me like everyone else, with disgust. ‘Twas foolish to think a man would not care what I looked like nor care that I have this bloody affliction.” Danielle choked on a sob as she rose again, nearly tripping over the wedding gown hem her and Edie had made. She tugged at the long material and went to the window, not seeing Edie trail after her grabbing for the short train.
“Milady,” Edie said breathlessly. “Your knee and limp is not an affliction. ‘Tis barely noticeable. I tell you, if that was disgust I read on milord’s face last eve, then I must be going blind in my old age.”
“Nay, Edie, you are but two years older than me. It was disgust. I have seen that look on the men in the village aplenty and know it well when I see it.” Danielle sighed heavily, ignoring Edie’s attention to fastening up the laces and the finishing touches to her attire.
“Pardon me, milady, but, nay. I think this time ‘tis you who is not seeing it clearly. He looks at you in the same way his man, Balwain has been looking at me.” Edie blushed heavily, talking easily among her lady. “I am older than you and far from a virgin. So, trust me, I can definitely say I know when I see lust in a man’s eye, milady.”
Danielle blushed at her maid’s frankness, but could not stop the smile that turned up her lips. “Bless your good heart, Edie. But I think not. You make me laugh at the thought however. But, nay. I know what I saw. I may not know what this lust looks like, but I am quite experienced with the look of disgust. I did notice the pleasing stares that Balwain was giving you however, but, they were not the same. He is a man of good looks.”
Edie was really red now. “Aye milady, these Normans seem to have that look about them and they are quite a large lot in size, are they not?”
They both shared a spell of laughter. Edie continued. “Surprising too that they look far better than their men without the backs of their head shaved in that bowl cut.”
“Aye, I did find that odd too, Edie. But what do we know of them? They are naught more than invaders, strangers and mayhap copying the Saxon way as to not look out of place.” Danielle replied with a shrug still fidgeting under Edie’s ministrations.
“Mayhap. Done!” Edie stood back and looked over her lady head to toe. The green colored gown complimented all of Danielle’s curves in all the right places and she looked beautiful. Edie just wished her lady could see this in herself. “Now, mark my words, milady. You will come to know the difference sooner than you think.”
She winked and Danielle gave her a big hug. They parted when Hilda, Rose’s maid intruded to announce that it was time.
Aric had a sleepless night.
He’d woken in a foul mood, shaven his face clear of that bothersome beard and dressed quickly with the aid of his squire. Now he stood in his best black and gold tunic. His scabbard and sword strapped to his side. Not the clothes of the hardened, fearless warrior known on the battle field for his prowess and easy stroke with dispensing any opponent. No, today he would appear to the untrained eye, a handsome groom, despite the fierce scowl riding his attractive features.
Aric knew that it was not just lack of sleep that caused his sour mood or some of the events from the night before, but of the events this morning as well. Balwain had walked with him around the manor. He’d noted places that would need strengthening to turn the manor into an even more elaborate stronghold to ward off any possible siege. The manor guards would be replaced with his own soldiers immediately. They had also spoken on Thomas and Rose. They needed to act faster on the other task William had requested of them.
Aric did not like the way the two treated his betrothed. He knew last night that the two had slipped and surely had not intended for he or Balwain to notice. He knew whatever it was ran deeper than what they had witnessed. What remained hidden was very dark.
The servants were wary of him and he wanted it to stay that way. It had to be in order for him to manage as the new lord and master here. But even that was not the whole of the thoughts that plagued him.
He’d been as exhausted as his fleet of soldiers, but the round face of the lady of Gravane kept rising up in front of him.
Those unique eyes, the color glowed it seemed as he tried to get her face out of his thoughts. Her mouth was not pouty, just full and shapely, made for kisses. His kisses. He grimaced at the startling image.
She was young. Not a beauty like he usually preferred. But striking all the same. Aric convinced himself ‘twas because of the look of her eyes and the beauty mole near her lip. She had character. A unique look of her own and from what he’d noticed she was unaware of her alluring beauty.
Tall and blessed with generous curves, she was quite lovely indeed. Those curves called to him with want, need and he had tried to convince hims
elf that it was only because he’d not been with a woman in many months. The limp she had took nothing from her and curiosity stirred within him. He wondered how she’d come to be injured and hoped she’d not suffered much. He did not ask himself why he cared or thought it, he just did.
The moment William had awarded his soon to be legacy upon him; Aric had pledged to do nothing erstwhile than tie up loose ends at court and had been too busy for slaking his lusty desires. He’d been embroiled in fighting and squashing out the rebellious bands of mercenaries refusing to accept William between here and Normandy. The only thought he’d given to his bride was that she would give him the heirs that he needed, naught more and stay out of his way. He’d not really cared at first what she truly looked like as long as she’d be comely enough so he’d be able to bring himself to bed her.
Damn all to hell, if he did not find the lady utterly breathtaking. He did not realize that the dark scowl on his face was morphing into a smile and that the smile remained until she knelt next to him as she repeated the vows.
That beautiful hair was in two fat braids clasped with a matching ribbon circlet of flowers at the back of her neck. It seemed to him the lady had a liking for flowers. Her gown only confirmed Aric’s lusty thoughts for it caressed every full curve lovingly.
She was rigid next to him, answering automatically to the priest. Her hands, he saw, shone white through her tanned skin as she clutched the bouquet of fresh flowers hard to her middle. Aric shot a dark look over her head to her cousins. One grinned. The other, Rose, stared daggers into his bride’s back.
Aric bristled with rage when it came time to give the cursory kiss. He’d barely grazed her lips ere he was in a full charge stride of wrath over to Thomas to wipe the grin off his face.
So focused on his target, Aric did not see the stricken look that flashed across his bride’s face.
Danielle closed her eyes to stop the tears.
What was wrong with her? She had hardened herself years ago against this sort of dismissal from Thomas and Rose and had vowed to never cry over anyone else ever again. And she hadn’t. Not even when her selfish father had taken his last breath, did she shed not one tear.
Now, here, in less than two days, this dark warrior had nearly brought her to tears several times by his blatant and obvious disgust.
Sudden anger sparked within her.
Could he not even give her a knight’s courtesy of at least holding his emotions in until the ceremony was completed? The anticipation of receiving her first kiss surprised her and the moment of excited curiosity was shattered when his lips barely brushed against her upturned mouth before he’d quickly turned away from her.
She opened her eyes to find Balwain with a hand gripped on his forearm in restraint. Danielle witnessed the look the two warriors shared. A look only the two of them understood. She caught the visible tremor that rippled through Aric’s massive frame before his black glare returned to hers.
It was too much for Danielle. Disappointment burned hotly inside her chest. She could not stop them and she cursed under her breath.
Aric’s fury deepened even more when he saw the fat tears rolling down his wife’s flushed cheeks. Something deep inside him shifted.
“Come. We leave now, milady.” His tone was gruffer than he intended and he took hold of her elbow in his hand, hard. His touch gentled when she hiccupped on a sob and he guided her from the small chapel on the side of the manor, but not before whispering to Balwain. “I need a private moment alone with my wife and then we will come to the celebration. See that those two make it there, friend."
Balwain nodded. His angry glare already locked on the cousins.
Danielle was still cursing under her breath. She did not know nor really care at the moment if Aric heard the unladylike blasphemous words pouring from her mouth. She was feeling even worse as he all but dragged her down the path to the secluded garden on the other side of the manor.
How did he know where it was? This was her secret place of retreat.
She tried to quell her sobs and the rising uncertainty as she struggled to keep up with his long, angry strides. The thought that he might beat her caused her to choke on a sob. It was well known that some men beat their wives as they believed it was their right. And God only knew what a Norman might do. She almost tripped when a hesitation came in his step.
She swiped angrily at her tears with the back of her free hand. Blast it! They wouldn’t stop coming.
She could hardly breathe and was gasping when he finally came to a sudden halt under a canopy of trees that caused her to fall into his side, with a loud sob-filled hiccup.
Danielle felt her face redden even more. How bloody embarrassing. She could only imagine what he was thinking of her now. She was sure her present state did more damage than good and probably would only further his repulsion.
She was truly making a spectacle of herself. Her chest heaved as the sobs had their way with her. Through it all, she told herself it was happening because the last thread of hope, thin it was, had broken inside of her.
He was just standing there like a stone wall with that dark scowl on his handsome face.
She did not want to look at him, but she felt the pull of his gaze and lifted her head up and met his stare. His dark eyes watched her intently, his brows furrowed, the scar above his right brow, white. Oh boy, he did intend to strike her. She wished she had a way to turn off the dreadful tears, but the damned sobs gave no reprieve. He moved so quickly that if she had blinked she would have missed it.
His large hands went to his scabbard, one hand on it and the other on the hilt of his sword. Danielle’s eyes widened further. It was worse than she’d thought.
Nay, he would not beat her.
Now that the vows were done, Gravane Manor and all its holdings were now his. He no longer needed her. Was he not supposed to wait until after she’d given him an heir before he murdered her? Nay, Danielle cried even harder, if that was at all possible, he probably could not bring himself to go through the wedding night with her.
Aric’s fury began to dissolve the longer he stared at the river of tears running down his wife’s face. He was beside himself, not sure what to do. Stricken by her deep hearty sobs, her heartache made him uncomfortable. His new wife wore her emotions openly on her sleeve. In the brief time he had known her, try as she might, he could see that she believed she hid them quite well. And he was sure now more than ever that she was unaware that she spoke some of her thoughts aloud.
Moving his sword aside, he sat down on the stone bench under the trees and did the first thing that came to him. He gathered her into his arms. Settling her across his lap and with little resistance, he pressed her head as gently as he could to his chest.
He abhorred tears, for none other than knowing most women used them to their advantage but not this one. Nay, hers were genuine. Her body was soft, warm and shook with each heart wrenching sob that tore from her full mouth. Aric thought of his sister Liza and how she always cooed softly to his twin nephews after a scrape or two. He murmured softly against her ear, her soft hairs teased his mouth as he caressed her shoulder.
Aric did not know what to say.
He, after all, had yet to say much more than a few words to her since his arrival.
They were strangers.
Married strangers now.
Albeit, he felt, with the way she melted against him and fit easily into his arms, ‘twas as though she had always belonged right here. He groaned and let his lips touch the smooth skin of her lobe.
Danielle felt his warm breath near her ear. He was whispering in French. She understood most of what he said and it had the desired effect and within moments, her sobs, pent up over the years finally came down to a few hiccups and light tremors.
His warm embrace was like a cocoon and she didn’t want to move. His soft lips against her ear caused something to stir within her as his deep husky voice slid over her like liquid fire.
Danielle squirmed in hi
s lap to burrow deeper against his chest. She could not believe he was holding her and she found she liked the odd sensations that his enveloping embrace brought to her. It was those same sensations whirling within her that caused her next move. Brazen and shocking to her as it was, she found she could not stop herself.
His warmth, the hardness of his thighs, the stirring in her belly had her turn her face into the crook of his neck and Danielle kissed the pulse under his chin. His soft whiskers tickled her lips. He would not notice one small kiss she thought. Her lips, wet from her tears made her mouth slid down the column of his throat to the neck of his tunic.
Oh bloody hell! His sharp intake of breath told her he’d felt it.
Aric nearly jumped up from the bench. What was she doing? Her sobs had quieted and now, that succulent mouth had practically licked his skin. Aric could not stop the groan that slipped from his lips. The feel of her hot, wet mouth against his skin coupled with her round bottom sliding around in his lap, so near the head of his swollen shaft, had him ready to explode inside his breeches.
By the Saints! What was this luscious woman doing to him? He forgot about everything else, cupped her chin gently and lifted her face. She resisted but a moment before lifting those unique eyes to meet his. He read want, wonder and hope in them. Her lips moved and she gave him a timid smile.
Aric needed no further encouragement. He captured her mouth and heat soared through him like never before. Her soft lips were pliant beneath his at first until he coaxed them gently apart. He had to taste more of her. She opened like a flower for him and Aric invaded her softness, plumbing her warm moist welcome.
She met his kiss, awkward at first, and then within seconds, she was meeting and matching the caress of his tongue with the same ardor as he.
He groaned in her mouth, deepening the kiss. She pushed into him further and he felt her arms move up to lock around the back of his neck. The movement caused her bottom to press directly over his straining flesh.
