Loyal Heart (The Von Wolfenberg Dynasty #1)

by Anna Markland

  She laughed out loud. “This bed is much too small for you,” she exclaimed.

  The door creaked open. He squeezed her hand as she swallowed another giggle. The doddering priest entered with the entire family, all feigning seriousness. Father Gebbert, still supported by Lute and Kon, swayed at the foot of the bed, chanted a prayer of blessing over them, accepted the aspergillum from Johann and sprinkled holy water onto the coverlet.

  Sophia’s father thanked him profusely, removed the implement from his hand, passed it back to Johann, took his arm and offered to escort him out.

  As soon as the door closed behind them, Brandt and Sophia threw off the coverlet. Her laughter warmed his heart, but his gut clenched when she suddenly screamed. Lute had launched himself at her before she could slide off the bed and was lifting her skirts.

  His anger subsided quickly when Lute brandished his sister’s garter. “Got it!” he cried triumphantly.

  “Luther!” his mother chided. “What are you thinking?”

  “For my bride,” he said sheepishly. “A man who gives his beloved the garter of a bride is assured of her faithfulness.”

  “Bride?” Sophia exclaimed, removing her stocking now she’d no garter to keep it up. “Who is this elusive woman?”

  Lute shoved the garter up his arm as far as his bicep. He mumbled something about the future, but Brandt was too preoccupied with Sophia’s bare leg to pay attention.

  ~~~

  Over the years Sophia and Kristina had often laughed about their ability to know what was in the mind of the other.

  She looked across the chamber at her smiling friend and hoped what she was thinking was evident.

  Kristina risked a glance at Sophia’s mother. “When Johann and I got married, we couldn’t wait to be alone together,” she murmured to her mother-by-marriage. “If I were Sophia I wouldn’t want to return to the dining room.”

  I love you, Kristina!

  Her mother hesitated, but it was Lute who took the bull by the horns. “Of course, Mama! His new brothers are here to assist Brandt, and you and Kristina are the ones who will prepare Sophia. I say let’s do it now and let these newlyweds enjoy their wedding night.”

  There was a little too much enthusiasm in his voice. Brandt frowned and met her gaze. He’d obviously heard it too, but after they stared at each other for a few moments, he nodded. “Do you mind, Gräfin Blythe?” he asked.

  Laughing, she held out her hand to Sophia. “Not at all. There’s only the sweet left to serve, and I am sure…” She glanced at Brandt and blushed. “Come.”

  She led Sophia to the garderobe.

  Johann gestured for Brandt to allow him to remove his doublet.

  While her mother and Kristina were helping her disrobe and don the silk nightgown the seamstresses had fashioned, Sophia grew concerned at the laughter coming from the chamber. “I don’t trust them,” she said. “What are they doing?”

  “It’s just male horseplay,” her mother replied. “Don’t worry. Johann won’t allow pranks.”

  Kristina nodded. “He was grateful your father made sure your brothers didn’t play tricks on us.”

  It seemed to Sophia that her half-brother’s laughter was just as loud as the others, but she didn’t hear Brandt laughing. “Perhaps I am being too nervous.”

  “Brides are supposed to be nervous,” her mother said, with a reassuring kiss. “But I’ve done my best to prepare you.”

  “Ja,” Kristina echoed. “If it hadn’t been for…”

  They startled when the chamber door slammed and the laughter ceased abruptly.

  Brandt swore loudly, then, “I must forewarn you, ladies, my new brothers have stolen my clothes.”

  A vision of her Hercules standing naked just a few feet away played havoc with Sophia’s heart and another more intimate place. She was indignant for him, yet thrilled.

  Kristina clasped her hands to her mouth. “So much for my sensible husband,” she murmured.

  “I should have know not to trust them,” her mother complained, though her comment seemed half-hearted. “Close your eyes, Kristina and I will lead you to safety.” She grinned at Sophia. “Don’t be concerned. I won’t peek.”

  ~~~

  Brandt was no stranger to ribaldry in military barracks. However, being stripped of his clothing by three other men was a new experience. He accepted the ribbing and the comments about his physical endowments with good humor; after all it was his wedding night and he’d often bemoaned the lack of siblings.

  He’d an uneasy feeling that something was afoot, but was nevertheless taken unawares when Lute advised him a bed-robe had been placed in the armoire, specially for the occasion.

  Of course, by the time he turned back they’d absconded with every stitch of his clothing and there was no bed-robe to be found.

  He didn’t mind Sophia seeing him naked. Indeed the prospect hardened his more than pleasant arousal even further.

  But the gräfin and Kristina…

  Plotting future means of revenge on the three miscreants, he was about to wrap himself in the coverlet when his blushing mother-by-marriage hurried out of the garderobe, one hand covering her eyes, the other clamped firmly on Kristina’s wrist.

  They were gone in a trice. He thought to secure the door but a gasp caught his attention. Just a few feet away, clad in a nightgown that clung to every curve, Sophia gaped. He had a sudden urge to strut like a rooster, but held his arms wide instead. “Do you like what you see, liebling?”

  She licked her lips. “I never expected…that is I didn’t realize…”

  Anxious to kiss away the confusion, he moved towards her, but the lovely nightgown was over her head and tossed aside before he reached her. She mimicked his stance. He stopped and swallowed hard, bewitched by the vision of her naked beauty. Perfect breasts, nipples as ripe and areolas as pale as he’d hoped. “Don’t be alarmed,” he somehow managed to say. “I know I am big, but I’ll prepare…”

  She grinned, her eyes still fixed on his rute.

  “Why am I telling you what you already know?” he teased, gathering her into his arms.

  She melted into him, filling his nostrils with her perfume, and his heart with more love than he deserved. “Your skin is warm,” he rasped, nuzzling her neck.

  As he’d hoped she held true to her promise and slid down to kneel at his feet. She curled her hand around his rute and glanced up at him with a seductive smile before engulfing him in her warm mouth.

  He braced his legs and entwined his fingers in her hair as she sucked and licked and sucked and licked, all the while moving her hand on him. His life took on new meaning in those moments. The incredible woman carrying him to the brink of ecstasy loved him, despite his insecurities and resentments. That he’d found a woman who enjoyed sexual congress with natural innocence was a boon beyond anything he’d ever expected. “I am the envy of every man in the world,” he rasped.

  As euphoria neared he pressed his fingertips into her scalp and pulled away. The love in her eyes made his knees go weak. “I want to plant my seed in your belly,” he explained.

  “Make love to me,” she whispered.

  He scooped her up and strode to the bed.

  “This bed really is too small for us both,” she said nervously.

  It struck him full force that though Sophia’s mother had passed on theory aplenty about men, the woman he held was a maiden. God had granted him the sole right to bring her to the heights of bliss. He sent a silent prayer of thanks winging heavenward. “We’ll manage,” he said as he laid her atop the coverlet. He nudged her legs apart and knelt between them, gazing at the moist pink folds. “Relax and let me play.”

  He chuckled inwardly. She seemed perfectly at ease having him stare at the most private part of her body. He was the one who needed to relax before his heart exploded, not to mention his rute.

  “I liked it when you played before,” she replied in a sultry voice, twirling a finger in her hair.

  “That was
just the beginning,” he teased.

  He’d told her many times in the days preceding the wedding that the first thing he planned to do was to taste her. No point wasting time. This was a moment they’d both looked forward to. She’d fulfilled her promise, now it was his turn.

  He slid to his knees on the floor, curled his arms around her thighs and licked her most intimate place.

  She lay back, her hands gripping his forearms, growling a throaty moan. Her taste intoxicated him. Licking the salty sweetness wasn’t enough. He covered her with his mouth and thrust his tongue into the fine wine of her essence. She’d perfumed the hair at her mons with the secret honeysuckle concoction. An urgent need to possess every part of her seized him. He wanted to go on feasting on her juices, but if he didn’t enter her soon…

  He climbed back onto the bed and grasped her ankle. “Put your foot on my shoulder, and your other leg around my waist.”

  She obeyed, whimpering when he pulled her towards him and his cock brushed her nether lips.

  He gripped her outstretched leg with one hand and stroked the glistening nub with his thumb, his needy shaft nestled at her opening.

  She purred as the diamond of her desire hardened and grew beneath his touch. “I love that,” she murmured, playing with her pouting nipples.

  His shaft wanted to push, but he was determined to wait. “You’ll release soon, my liebling, then we’ll ride to…”

  Her low growl turned into a long wail. She thrust her hips forward and he slid into the warmth of her pulsating sheath. He clamped his arms around her thighs and surrendered to the urge to possess her, body and soul. She gripped him as he plunged deeper and deeper, never flinching when he felt her maidenhead tear.

  “S-o-ph-i-a,” he yelled when his essence erupted.

  She closed her eyes and stretched her neck. “I’m falling,” she rasped.

  He gathered her into his arms and pressed ever deeper. “I’ve got you,” he whispered.

  They floated together in sated bliss.

  An icy shiver prickled his nape when the door creaked open. Gooseflesh marched across her skin when muffled laughter drifted to their ears.

  He shielded her. “What are they up to now?” he growled.

  The door creaked closed.

  His happy cock slid from her body and he turned. “Schiesse,” he cursed. “Rabbits.”

  ~~~

  Sophia sat up abruptly, startled at the sight of three brown rabbits hopping around in the chamber. “I am going to kill Lute,” she cried, sliding from the bed.

  “You won’t have a chance,” Brandt replied as he stalked one furry bunny. “He’ll be a dead man as soon as I get my hands on him.”

  She smiled when it suddenly occurred that in all the instruction her mother had passed on there’d been no mention of watching a splendidly naked male pursue a terrified rabbit.

  She sat on the edge of the bed and decided to enjoy the spectacle.

  She squealed when the creature ran under the bed. Brandt got to his knees and tried to coax it out. When that proved unsuccessful, he pushed to his feet. “What’s so funny?” he asked, raking his hair off his face. “Aren’t you going to help?”

  She smothered the laughter bubbling in her throat. “I’m afraid I can’t,” she said with mock seriousness. “If I rush about I might lose all the lovely warm liquid you pumped inside me, and there’ll be no child. Besides, I’m enjoying watching you run around naked, all those rippling muscles…”

  She saw the moment it dawned on him she was teasing. She screeched when he launched forward, pinning her to the bed. “Making fun of me, wench?”

  He kissed her then, with passion, with love, with hunger, with laughter. “I suppose this is another local fertility ritual?” he asked when they finally broke apart, breathless.

  She frowned, not understanding his meaning.

  “The rabbits,” he said.

  She was still laughing as she stood by the open door and watched him shoo the bunnies out. “This time I’m going to lower the bar,” he declared with a grin.

  EPILOGUE

  A fortnight later

  Brandt woke before dawn on the day he and his brothers-by-marriage were to leave for München. From there would begin the difficult trek across the Alps.

  Sophia slept on, tucked into his side, her glorious hair arrayed across his body. The bed might be too small for two people, but it had brought them a closeness he didn’t want to surrender.

  The urgent need to get back into fighting condition had taken away time he’d have preferred to spend with his wife. She hadn’t complained and seemed to enjoy watching him practising sword fighting and wrestling with her brothers. He teased that she just wanted to see him without his shirt on.

  In their time together, they’d revelled in making love in many different ways, each more exhilarating and satisfying than the last as they learned what pleased the other.

  He kissed her forehead. “Wake up, sleeping princess,” he coaxed.

  “I don’t want to wake up,” she whined, her eyes still closed. “If I stay asleep I won’t have to bid you goodbye.”

  When she turned onto her side, he gave her bottom a playful smack, regretting it instantly when his arousal bucked. “Get up. I’m taking you to a magical place.”

  She turned onto her back, legs open, a seductive grin on her face.

  “Not that magical place,” he scolded. “We’re going to the waterfall.”

  She rose up on her elbows. “My waterfall?”

  He averted his eyes from her tempting breasts. “I want to say goodbye properly there. Just you and me.”

  She kissed him, her hand cupping his face. “I’d like that.”

  They dressed quickly and hurried down to the stable. Drogo had saddled Löwe and Mut and stood ready holding the reins of both horses. Brandt tossed him a coin which he caught handily. They mounted and rode out of the courtyard.

  “I worry how Drogo will fare,” she confided.

  It was typical she would be concerned about a servant she hardly knew. “I’ll watch out for him,” he replied.

  “And who will take care of you?”

  “Vidar is a capable soldier. I’ve fought with him before. And I now have three brothers. We’ll help each other.”

  They rode in silence the rest of the way, the horses’ hooves rustling the carpet of fallen leaves. The air had cooled with the coming of autumn, but winter’s chill hadn’t yet stripped the trees of all their leaves. He hoped the good weather continued for the long trek to Italy.

  He put his hands on her waist and lifted her down. They let the horses graze freely and made their way along the trail to the waterfall.

  They’d come here more than once since marrying, but always with other members of the family. On one occasion he’d wreaked revenge on Lute by hiding his clothes and the drying linen the lad intended to wrap himself in after his swim. He’d thoroughly enjoyed watching his red-faced brother-by-marriage stumble around searching for his garments, holding a large maple leaf over his manhood. It warmed his heart that the other von Wolfenbergs had laughed with him. They accepted him as a member of the family.

  He chuckled at the memory as they walked hand in hand to the pool at the foot of the falls, quickly removed their clothing and jumped into the water.

  ~~~

  The constant flow of fresh water into the pool kept the water cold. Jumping in was always a shock, but Sophia relished the warmth of her husband’s body as she shivered against him. “C-c-cold,” she stammered against his chest.

  “I’ll soon warm you up,” he teased, lifting her onto his hard rute.

  Every time he’d entered her since their marriage she’d been filled with a sense of homecoming, and today was no different, though it was the first outdoor lovemaking.

  They floated, locked together as one.

  “Thank you for bringing me here,” she whispered. “While you’re away I’ll remember these moments, this magical place.”

  “A
nd we should try something new to make it even more special,” he rasped.

  She felt his shaft grow within her. Whatever he had in mind had aroused him further.

  He braced his legs and turned her, as if she weighed nothing at all. Her breasts bobbed on the surface of the water, her bottom pressed against his belly.

  “Now stretch your legs out behind me,” he said softly, “and put your hands on the rock.”

  She gasped as he penetrated deep inside. “I’m like a flying fish,” she said.

  Before long she was indeed flying, buoyed up by the water and her lover’s firm hands on her hips.

  When his release came he shouted her name, as he always did. It echoed off the rocks and in her heart, and she knew this was the cherished moment she would treasure while she prayed for his safe return.

  ~~~

  It was a sombre farewell. The emperor had requested Graf Dieter remain in Germany to coordinate diplomatic efforts to counteract Ruggero of Sicily’s influence over the Papacy. Brandt felt the full weight of being considered the senior soldier of the family, particularly since his experience had been limited to the sporadic skirmishes between the Staufens and the emperor.

  Johann, Lute and Kon put on a brave face, but it was plain as they mounted their horses that they were reluctant to leave Wolfenberg.

  Two armies were to invade Ruggero’s Italian duchies, one led by Duke Heinrich, the other by the emperor. His father-by-marriage urged him to make sure they were all assigned to the Saxon army in München, not Lothair’s. Though Brandt had no love for Heinrich’s troops, he agreed the Duke was the superior military leader, not to mention half Lothair’s age.

  The gräfin, Kristina and Sophia wept openly.

  Drogo waited, Löwe’s reins in hand. The ashen-faced lad had retched several times. He too had carved out a place for himself in this happy Saxon household. Brandt had rescued him from having to march with the infantry, though a donkey laden with water canteens wouldn’t be the most comfortable mode of travel.

  Mounted, Vidar waited in the field with the von Wolfenberg and Rödermark men, his expression sterner than usual.