Loving Lies

by Tina Donahue

  Fernando pulled away from his brother and looked at Isabella. The gown enhanced the color of her amazing eyes. The last rays of sun touched her hair causing it to flame, which made her flesh seem even paler.

  Awestruck, Fernando sighed. “She is.”

  Enrique pushed him aside and strode to her. He captured Isabella’s hand, bringing it to his lips for a chaste kiss.

  As Fernando caught up, he heard Enrique say, “Buenas noches, Sancha.”

  Chapter 14

  Isabella’s face went slack.

  Enrique spoke, yet she heard nothing he said. His white forelock danced in the warm breeze as he studied her eyes and hair. At last, his expression grew puzzled and his words paused.

  Despite her foolish hope, there’d be no miracle today. Enrique knew who Fernando’s betrothed should be. He even seemed to know Isabella’s eyes should have been brown like Sancha’s and her hair threaded with gold.

  Just as he seemed ready to accuse her of deceiving his brother, Fernando leaned in. “What did you say?” He turned to her and stared. “Isabella, are you all right?”

  Her belly clenched at him having used the wrong name for his betrothed.

  The truth was on Enrique’s face.

  Fernando turned to his older brother.

  Before Isabella could confess and beg for Fernando’s forgiveness, Tomás and Pedro joined them. Tomás took in everyone. “What goes on here?”

  Fernando glared at Enrique. “What is the matter with you?”

  Pedro glanced at his brothers. “Did Enrique say something to upset Isabella?” He punched the man’s biceps. “Apologize immediately.”

  Tomás crossed his arms over his chest. “He had better.”

  Fernando elbowed Enrique. “What are you waiting for? Go on. Apologize.”

  “None is required,” Isabella said.

  The brothers exchanged a glance. Enrique faced her and offered a bow. “Forgive me.”

  For the truth?

  Pedro cleared his throat. Fernando leaned toward her. “Isabella, have you nothing to say?”

  She spoke to Enrique. “There is naught to forgive.”

  He regarded her hair and eyes, his expression distracted. “Forgive me for using the wrong name to address you.”

  She cringed.

  “Wrong name?” Pedro shook his head. “What one did Enrique use?”

  Tomás elbowed Pedro’s ribs. He winced and backed away. “What?”

  “Silence, fool.”

  “Why?”

  Tomás clenched his jaw.

  Pedro’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. He turned to Isabella. “Forgive me. You must understand whatever name Enrique used, you have Fernando’s heart. He has never wanted another woman as he now desires you. He has never even been with another woman long enough for any of us to recall her name. That is, he has been with so many women we cannot recall all of their names.”

  Fernando blushed scarlet. Tomás threw up his hands.

  Pedro’s attention darted to everyone. “What I meant to say is Fernando is nothing like my twin Alfonso or even our brother Gabriello. Now they—”

  “Silence.” Fernando glared.

  Tomás stepped closer to her. “What Pedro is trying to say is Enrique has finally found a girl for himself who makes him forget every other señorita’s name.”

  “About time.” Fernando frowned. “Perhaps she can save him from growing even more addled.”

  Enrique shot Fernando a rough look then turned back to her with a guarded expression. “I wonder if my brother deserves to call you his.”

  Her throat tightened.

  Pedro smiled weakly. “Fernando is hardly perfect. However, he cannot be completely unworthy.”

  “Idiots.” Fernando pulled her away.

  “Where are we going?” She had to confess before Enrique told all.

  “To meet the priest.”

  She held back. Fernando sighed. “I can assure you, he is much nicer than my brothers.”

  Before Isabella could protest, the portly priest joined them and smiled. “My dear.”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  Fernando gave her a surprised look and turned to the priest. “Allow me to introduce my betrothed, Señorita Isabella Lopéz de Lara.”

  Bile rose to her throat.

  The priest took Isabella’s free hand in both of his as his smile widened to a grin. His warm reception told her he hadn’t read the contracts or perhaps hadn’t even seen them. He didn’t know she should be Sancha.

  Enrique did. The threat of exposure was in his comment as to whether Fernando deserved to call her his. As Fernando and the priest exchanged pleasantries, Isabella glanced over. Enrique was watching her, no doubt mulling his next move.

  Before he could make it, or she could gather the fortitude to confess, Fernando led her away from the still-smiling priest. He ordered his brothers Tomás and Pedro about as they prepared for the ceremony and feast to follow. The stronghold hummed with even more activity as men carried tables and benches outside to accommodate all except those who would remain on watch. Most jested with each other and laughed loudly. Steaming platters of beef, mutton, rabbit, pigeon, and fowl scented the air and soon filled the tables along with flasks of wine, baskets of white bread, wheels of cheese, and pots of honey.

  Everything was moving so fast, Isabella could scarcely keep up. She knew what she had to do yet couldn’t find the appropriate moment or courage. Fernando and the other men grew boisterous as they settled in for a night of merriment. Only Enrique remained apart. His gaze lingered on Fernando and the priest. He seemed to be debating what man would be the first to learn of her deception and when he would make his move.

  She feared he’d unmask her during the nuptials.

  When the time came and Fernando offered his hand to her, Enrique watched from the side.

  Isabella’s fingers were icy, the rest of her too feverish as the sacerdote spoke. She didn’t hear anything he said. She felt nothing except the warmth of Fernando’s hand on hers. Trust and love filled his gaze as he spoke the words that would forever change their lives.

  “I give myself to be thy husband.” His voice was strong, his touch assured.

  The priest addressed her. His thick lips shone from meat he’d already enjoyed. His bushy eyebrows rose slightly as he waited for Isabella to give her oath to remain at Fernando’s side for a lifetime. The men ceased clearing their throats, coughing, or shifting from foot to foot. Even the breeze paused.

  Her pulse raced as she looked at Fernando, wanting him more than life. He squeezed her fingers gently. Beside him, Enrique locked gazes with her. Isabella’s hand went limp in Fernando’s. He looked over at his brother.

  She panicked. “I give myself to be thy wife.” With the words said, she steeled herself for the worst.

  Everyone grew silent and then the men cheered, the priest pronounced his blessing, and Fernando pulled her close. “Tanto monta, monta tanto Isabella como Fernando.”

  She closed her eyes as he kissed her with love, honor, and respect while she deceived him.

  * * * *

  Although Fernando wanted to retire to a chamber with his bride, protocol demanded everyone celebrate Mass, after which good manners required a feast and festivities.

  The night was soft and clear, the pleasant air filled with prayer then jovial voices and boasts about what man was the better warrior. Torches flooded the area with light. The men ate heartily before making ready for jousts and other feats to prove their skills.

  As one after the other fell from their mounts, Enrique made a sound of disgust. “No wonder we have yet to conquer Granada.”

  Tomás shrugged. “We shall. But tonight was made for love, not war.”

  Fernando looked at Isabella. She stared at her barely touched food when she should have been famished. He leaned close. “Do you miss your sisters?”

  She turned to him, her eyes wide.
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  Her response was so unexpected he tried to explain his question. “They and my sister Catarina should have been here for our nuptials, rather than these crude men.”

  She regarded the others. “Their nature is to be crude. They mean no harm.”

  He smiled. “And what of your nature? Have you finally decided not to be difficult?”

  “Have you?”

  She still wanted to flee to Portugal or France. Rather than argue with her, he tore a piece of bread from the loaf, dipped it in oil, seasoned it with garlic and brought it to her lips as she’d done with him during their night at the venta.

  “Eat. Do it now.”

  She eased away from the offered fare. “My hunger is not for food, my lord.”

  He lowered his voice. “Nor is mine. You still need to eat to keep up with me in our chamber.”

  She accepted the fare as a dutiful wife should. Liking her gentle demeanor, Fernando fingered oil off the corner of her mouth. Before he could bring his finger to his lips, Isabella captured his hand.

  “Allow me.” She swirled her tongue over the tip of his finger.

  He was going to enjoy married life.

  The men surrounding them must have seen his bliss. They grew so quiet Fernando shot each a warning gaze not to pry into his and Isabella’s affairs. Some left the table. Those who remained returned to their own conversations.

  Tomás bumped Fernando’s arm. “Say the word and I will run them through.”

  He shouldered his brother away. Isabella was now kissing each of Fernando’s fingers, after which she pressed her mouth to his palm. With his lips to her temple, he inhaled deeply of her scent, wondering how he’d ever lived without her.

  Once he drew back, she turned into him. “Might we retire to our chamber now?”

  “Custom says we should remain here well into the morrow.”

  “I hardly care about custom. Have you forgotten how disagreeable and difficult I can be?”

  He hadn’t, loving her spirit. “Let me see what I can do.” He turned to Tomás. “Has everything been prepared as I asked?”

  “All except for a few minor matters.”

  “See to them now. Isabella and I wish to retire.”

  Tomás called two knights over and quietly gave them his orders before turning back to Fernando. “Give them a moment.”

  The men ran inside.

  Fernando waited impatiently, eating, conversing, gazing at Isabella until the men exited the stronghold. With their nods, he pushed to his feet. “Quiet, the lot of you. I have something to say.”

  The men conversed and laughed.

  Tomás slammed his fist on the table. Plates bounced and several goblets fell over. “Quiet.”

  Those near them fell silent, with the others following suit.

  Fernando slapped Tomás on the back. “Well done.” He turned to the crowd. “I want to thank all of you for this celebration. However, the hour grows late…my wife and I need to retire.”

  Ignacio jumped to his feet. “I wish both of you love, health, many children, and long life.”

  “As do I.” Bernardo smiled sweetly at Isabella. “May each of your daughters be as beauteous as you.”

  Another warrior lifted his beaker. “May your sons be brave.”

  After him, another knight jumped to his feet to offer his good wishes, followed by more men. Even those in the tourney stopped their battles to offer their good will.

  At last, Tomás gestured the group to silence. “Enough. Allow them to leave.”

  “Go on.” Enrique studied the wine in his lager. “Take your new wife inside.”

  Fernando frowned at his brother for thinking he could give him orders. He was ready to retort when Isabella touched his hand. Forgetting everything else, he helped her from the bench and swept her into his arms. The men cheered.

  Fernando carried her inside and up the stone steps. “Are you fatigued?”

  She rested her hand on his cheek. He was surprised at how cold her fingers still were.

  “Fill me with your child tonight, please.”

  His step paused. “I shall do my best.”

  “It must be a done deal.”

  He searched her face. Gone was the sadness and worry he’d seen earlier. Now, she appeared too docile. “Why a done deal? We cannot, we will not remain here until you birth the child before confronting your uncle.”

  “He matters not anymore. We will quit this place at your command and travel to my papá’s castle on your orders.”

  He’d reached the top of the flight and strode down the corridor. “You finally have faith in my protection?”

  “I never doubted it.”

  Then why her sudden acquiescence to what he’d intended all along? Unless Isabella’s plan was to sway him after they coupled, thinking she’d hound him when he was most content. Not likely. When it came to this woman, he would never be satisfied. He’d always want more of her.

  He stopped and set her on her feet. “Here we are.”

  Wonder transformed her features at what awaited them in the spacious chamber. The men had pushed three small beds together to create one large one so the mattresses could easily accommodate a husband and wife. Fine linens covered the bed, along with a counterpane of lush red velvet. A large chest stood to the right, a table to the left with a pitcher of water, a jug of wine, bowls of fruit, boiled eggs, and olives. Scores of candles bathed the chamber in a rosy glow with incense perfuming the balmy air.

  Isabella stepped inside and inhaled deeply of the sumptuous scents.

  Pleased at her obvious delight, Fernando joined her and closed the door. “You have yet to strip yourself. Why?”

  She slid her gaze to him. “I need to be unbuttoned and unlaced. Who shall we call to assist me?”

  “Who do you think?” He pulled out his dagger. “This should slice through everything.”

  “And ruin the gown? What will I wear?”

  “Nothing. I want you bare and willing.”

  “As you wish, my lord.” With her hands beneath her hair, she lifted the tresses and turned her back to him. “Cut through everything. Do it now.”

  How he loved her playfulness. He returned his dagger to its sheath, unlaced and unbuttoned her, taking great care not to harm anything, then slid the gown, kirtle, and chemise off her shoulders and arms until the garments pooled at her waist. Candlelight caressed her dewy flesh. He drew her into him and pressed his lips to her neck.

  She stiffened. “Did you hear that sound? What is it?”

  He trailed kisses across her jaw to her cheek and temple. “My passion.”

  “No.” She pulled away. He brought her back.

  “Fernando, listen. Do you hear the noise? What is it?”

  “My frustration?”

  Again, she pulled away and pushed her garments past her hips. Once the items fell to the stone floor, she stepped out of them and her shoes.

  His shaft stiffened at her nudity. Her luscious breasts and buttocks bounced with each of her moves. She kept turning and searching the chamber for the source of the muffled yelps. Flinging open the chest, she rummaged through the items inside, at last lifting a bright green gown adorned with tiny pearls.

  Perfect for her. “Do you like it?”

  Isabella looked past the gown to him. “Do you hear the sound?”

  Her nakedness and his thickening shaft had his full attention. “You mean my sighs?”

  She muttered an Arabic oath.

  Fernando pointed his finger at her. “I warned you not to use foul language.”

  “Forgive me.” At the mattress, she sank to her knees and lowered her head to see beneath the bedframe. Her position lifted her buttocks, which she’d unwittingly presented to him.

  Fernando growled softly at her ripe, willing flesh. Before he could make a move toward her, she inhaled sharply.

  He feigned innocence. “What is it?”

  “Diego?” She
reached beneath the bed and pulled out a blue woolen blanket wrapped about a galgo pup. With a soft moan, she cradled the dog close. He, in turn, licked her chin.

  Love at first sight. “Is that what you want to name him?”

  Her smile was happy and sad. “To honor the son we lost.”

  “Diego it is.”

  “Where did you find him?”

  “When the knights went to fetch Enrique and the priest, I asked my brother to bring his finest pup, newly weaned, to you.” Fernando sighed loudly and deliberately. “I fear you care more for Diego than the gowns I purchased.”

  With the pup caressed to her breast, she kissed its tiny snout. “You wanted me bare.”

  “And willing.”

  “I am.”

  “In order to bear my child. You fear losing me. A child may be all you have left, no?”

  She didn’t comment.

  Her wrinkled brow told Fernando he’d struck a chord. “Your uncle will never fell me, nor will I ever leave your side.” He pushed away from the door and offered his hand. “Come. We have a family to build. Tonight we create our first child.”

  * * * *

  She slid her fingers over his, loving her husband’s firm yet gentle touch as he helped her to her feet. He put Diego atop the gowns in the chest then turned to her.

  “Allow me, my lord.” She slipped the robe off his shoulders and past his arms, working hurriedly at his doublet and hose. Soon, she had stripped him bare. On her knees, she pressed her face into his dark, musky curls and engorged shaft. It was hot and hard against her cheek.

  His growl sounded aroused and frustrated. “On the bed.”

  “No.” Taking his hands, she coaxed him down to the stone floor. “Taste me as I taste you.”

  “What? You would do such a thing with a man?”

  Despite his obvious shock, she nodded. “With the one before me. My husband.”

  He looked pleased, surprised, and a bit disconcerted. “How do you know of such things? Surely you didn’t learn it while eavesdropping.”

  “I did. Women talk, you know.”

  He shook his head, but he did lie on the floor. “Go on, show me what you heard.”

  She faced his feet and straddled him so she could suckle his shaft as he explored her folds with his tongue. The noblewomen she’d overheard considered this act quite shameless. Something only a vulgar mistress would engage in, not an honored wife.