He chuckled. “I know you do. I like it too. Your breasts are beautiful.”
Her eyes widened. She put a fingertip on his chest. “I like you.”
It was suddenly difficult to breathe. “I like you, Rosamunda, but we must talk.”
* * *
Rosamunda did not want to talk, she wanted to touch, to be touched. She did not know where the wanton urges had come from, but she liked them. It did not feel wanton with Adam. It felt right.
She hoped his desire to talk meant he would profess his love, ask her to be his wife. Her dream of being wedded to a member of the noble Montbryce family might yet come true.
“You are aware I am deaf,” Adam began.
She flicked her fingers in the air as if shooing a pesky fly and shrugged. She pointed to her mouth. “And I am mute. Do you care?”
Relief washed over her as he shook his head.
He stared at her for long moments, then exhaled loudly. “I have not always been deaf.”
Her heart went out to him. She had been born mute, but Adam had been forced to accept an impairment.
“A few months ago I became ill—les oreillons.”
She cupped her hands over her ears, then pointed to herself.
“You had it too. And Paulina and your brothers?”
She nodded, pressing her palm low to the floor.
“When you were small.” He raked a hand through his hair, imitating her gesture with his free hand. “I was big.” He raised his hand to the top of his head. “When grown men suffer this disease, they sometimes lose their hearing.”
She sensed great sadness in him. But she knew he was deaf and surely he was aware by now it did not matter to her. There was something more. She took hold of his trembling hand, pressing her fingers into his palm. “Tell me.”
To her surprise he lifted her to her feet, then went down on one knee.
Oh, God.
He looked into her eyes. “Rosamunda, I care for you deeply. I want you to be my wife.”
She gasped, her heart soaring.
He averted his gaze. “But I cannot ask it of you.”
Something happened to her knees. She swooned towards him as the rafters crashed in on her. Adam put his arms around her hips and buried his forehead in the aching place between her legs. He growled out something incoherent, his words muffled by sobs racking his body.
She gripped his shoulders, willing the loft to stop spinning.
Her head throbbed, but it came to her in the midst of her pain that he was suffering. He had something dire to tell her. She cradled his face between her hands and forced him to look at her. Despair darkened his gaze.
“Tell me.”
He put his hands over hers and squeezed his eyes tight shut. “I am not a whole man, Rosamunda.”
A maelstrom of thoughts whirled through her head. What did he mean? If Denis had said the same thing she would have understood. Apart from his deafness, he looked hale.
She tried to withdraw her hands from his to make him look at her again, but he held firm. Her belly roiled as she gasped for breath. She bent to kiss the top of his head.
A sigh shuddered through him as he looked up at her. “I am impotent.”
Silence hung in the air as Rosamunda desperately revisited conversations with her brothers, but impotent was not a word she remembered. She blinked away tears. She couldn’t help him if she did not understand his problem.
He must have sensed her confusion. He opened his eyes. “You don’t understand, do you?” he said wearily.
She shook her head, afraid to mouth the word no.
He came to his feet to stand with his body touching hers. He swallowed hard. “Has anyone told you what happens between a man and woman in the bedchamber?”
The heat rose in her face as she shyly touched her breasts and then the intimate place he had pleasured.
He smiled, but it was not a happy smile. “Oui, that is part of it, but there is much more. When I stand near you like this, what happens to your body?”
Rosamunda and her sister had never discussed their bodies, and certainly the topic would have been unthinkable with her brothers. But she had felt the need for a man’s touch as her body developed. The man of her dreams was asking to share her most intimate secrets. She cupped her breasts. “Ache.”
He brushed his knuckles against her mons. “And here?”
Fire consumed her now. She pounded her fist into her palm. “Hot, wet.”
He enfolded her in his arms. “Do you know why?”
She frowned. “Because I like you?”
* * *
She was too innocent. Adam cursed the mother who had abandoned her daughter to ignorance. “Oui, again that’s part of it. But when a man and woman wed, they join their bodies. The woman becomes warm and wet to welcome her husband’s male parts.”
She had brothers. Surely she knew they were made differently? But they had not grown up together in the normal way of siblings.
Her eyes widened as she glanced at his groin. He was in too deep to withdraw now. He took her hand and pressed it against his shaft. “I have a male part, Rosamunda, as you can feel.”
Inquisitive as ever, she flexed her fingers over him, exploring. She smiled, obviously having no inkling his manhood had not responded as it should at her touch.
“A man’s body makes seed. From that seed children grow in the woman’s womb when the man and woman join.”
She blushed again, patting her belly.
His head and his heart were pounding, his throat dry. He should stop now, walk away, tell her he did not love her. He was about to break her heart anyway. Better to keep his secret.
But he did love her. She was his one chance at happiness, and she needed him, for all his problems.
“Les oreillons stole that from me, Rosamunda. I can never sire children.”
He held his breath, staring at her breasts. A bee buzzed somewhere in the loft. The roof had not fallen in, nor the floor collapsed beneath his feet. There had been no clap of thunder, no bolt of lightning. Yet the world had changed profoundly.
An Invitation
Rosamunda held her breath, her innards churning. She would have to seek the garderobe soon or disgrace herself. Nox snorted below them, no doubt sensing his master nearby. Lux whinnied in reply.
In the courtyard people were stirring, beginning the business of the day, a day like any other. Except it wasn’t.
To say she had longed for children would be untrue. She had felt cheated of the chance to bear sons and daughters. But the longing had been for a man who loved her. In her fantasies she had assumed marriage to such a man would bring children.
Adam de Montbryce was that man. Her heart bled for him that he suffered this torment. He stood before her like a lost child, unable to hide the pleading in his eyes.
She knew nothing of real life, of men and women, of what it meant to live with other people, least of all a man. But she loved Adam. The idea of not joining her life with his weighed on her like lead. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down to his knees. “Ask again.”
He glanced up at her sharply, hope flickering in his blue eyes. “You understand what I am telling you?”
She nodded, then put one hand over her heart, the other on his chest.
He exhaled loudly, rubbing his face with his hands. He laughed nervously, swallowing hard. She held out her hand. He cradled it in his warm palms. “Will you wed with me, Rosamunda Lallement?”
She launched at him and they collapsed in a tangled heap in the straw.
Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.
He folded her in his arms. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”
* * *
The urgency to get Rosamunda back to East Preston consumed Adam. He did not divulge the betrothal to the Revandel family. Denis and Paulina must be the first to share the news.
Denis would understand, despite that a marriage would end the partnership of the Giant and the Dwarf. Denis loved him and
would rejoice in his happiness.
Paulina would be devastated. She and Denis should marry. It was evident they were made for each other.
He ought to have given Rosamunda more time to consider her response. He dreaded she might change her mind. He would free her of the betrothal if she did. If they could be married quickly, he would pleasure her silly and she would never want to leave him.
She was beautiful. Their children would have been angels. It grieved him he would never see her belly round with his child.
She agreed to keep their promise secret, grimacing at the notion of Letyce Revandel and her rude brothers finding out.
Adam informed his hosts of their intention to depart that afternoon, much to Alphonse Revandel’s spluttered disappointment, Letyce’s disgusted sneer, and the twins’ crestfallen sulk.
* * *
Letyce Revandel fumed that a handsome knight such as Adam de Montbryce preferred the company of a mute nobody. She had used all her wiles to snare him, but had not succeeded in arousing his male interest.
Something ailed him. She had guessed early on that he did not hear well. But there was more. He avoided physical contact, especially when she attempted to press her body against his manhood. There was nothing—no hard male length saluting in honor. Any man became aroused when a young woman pressed her attentions on him, unless—
He clung to the muette as if to a lifeline. Letyce was glad they were leaving today and wished heartily protocol did not demand she be present in the courtyard to bid them adieu. She suspected Adam had spent the night with her rival in the stables.
Her father bowed and scraped, his fat face red. His toadying sickened her.
She suppressed a giggle when Winrod and Dareau lavished completely inappropriate farewell kisses on the mute, flustering her, until Adam stepped between them to spoil the fun, a scowl on his face.
Her brothers’ actions emboldened her. There was no harm in one last try. When Adam bowed his adieu, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth, grinding her mons against him. He stumbled backwards in an effort to evade her, but in the brief moment their bodies touched, her suspicions were confirmed. The man was either a eunuch, or he was impotent.
That could explain his evasive answers when her father had brought up the topic of Belisle Castle. He had mumbled something about his brother inheriting. Her father’s disappointment was palpable as his dreams of wedding his daughter to a wealthy Norman heir dissipated.
She didn’t care. Let the eunuch dote on his muette. There were plenty of other fish in the sea. She watched them ride away, plotting how to escape Poling, and her father’s constant supervision.
As the departing visitors neared the gate, another group of horsemen appeared. She narrowed her eyes, her spirits lifting when she saw they wore the king’s livery.
Montbryce exchanged greetings with the royal messengers. He accepted what looked like a document from them, then continued his journey home without a backward glance.
The king’s men rode into the courtyard. Her father repeated his bowing and scraping as the leader dismounted and came forward.
“I am Sir Bertrand de Poitou, herald of His Majesty, Henry, King of England. I bear a message from our Sire concerning his sojourn at Arundel Castle. You are Sir Alphonse Revandel?”
Her father smiled broadly. “Did I not tell you the king would remember me,” he whispered to Letyce as Sir Bertrand handed him a parchment.
She rolled her eyes. The size of the satchel stuffed with documents that Sir Bertrand’s squire bore across his body seemed to indicate every Thomas, Richard and Henry in Sussex had received the missive. Still, excitement bubbled within her. Arundel was less than an hour away, and the king would be there, with his courtiers. She was certain a few of her more wicked bed partners wouldn’t miss the opportunity to participate in the All Hallows’ Eve frolics.
Sir Bertrand stepped back. “I await the favor of a reply.”
“Oui, oui, of course we will do his majesty’s bidding. Whatever it is.”
The herald folded his arms across his broad chest. “You have not yet read the missive.”
Letyce peeked over her father’s shoulder as he unfurled the document.
He laboriously intoned the message for the benefit of his sons. Her eyes skipped through the meaningless preamble: Year of Our Lord...Glorious Reign...Majesty....yes, here was the crux of the message:
...His Illustrious Majesty commands your presence at Arundel Castle for the celebrations of the Triduum of Hallowmas.
At last, a chance to escape this dreary manor and have some fun. Granted the second two days of Hallowmas were solemn occasions, but All Hallows’ Eve promised to be entertaining.
“The Revandels will be there,” she gushed, to Sir Bertrand’s evident surprise.
* * *
For the first half hour of their journey to East Preston, the angry scowl did not leave Adam’s face. His jaw remained clenched, his thoughts obviously far away. Rosamunda deemed it wise not to open a conversation. She too had been repelled and disgusted by the behavior of the Revandel twins towards her, and Letyce’s brazen conduct with Adam. She was upset for him, but secretly elated he obviously had no affection for the hore.
He had accepted the document from the royal herald at Poling, but had not read it, nor given any indication of what it might contain. She was agog. A message from the king. She would have ripped it open immediately.
It had not escaped her attention that the impressive herald had shown great deference to Adam when he identified himself.
When they turned south at Angmering, he called a halt for the men in the escort to water their horses in the Arun River. His anger seemed to leave him as he helped her dismount. She relished his big hands at her waist as he lifted her safely to the ground. She held on to his shoulders, drawing on the strength she felt there.
“I apologise for my demeanor, Rosamunda,” he said. “I am disappointed for my father that such a family lives in one of his manors. No gentleman would behave thus towards you.”
Nor any lady towards you.
Impatience seethed. She pointed to the document tucked in his belt. He looked down and seemed surprised. “I forgot about it.”
He tucked his hand under her elbow and guided her to a fallen log by the river. “Let’s see what his Illustrious Majesty wants.”
For a family that had rubbed shoulders with kings since William the Conqueror, a royal missive might not seem important.
Adam unfurled the parchment, read the message, then rolled it up again.
She gripped his arm, shaking it. “Well?”
“We are invited, nay, commanded to Arundel Castle for the Hallowmas observance.”
She had heard of Arundel from her brothers. “The Earl of Arundel?” she mouthed.
“You are right that the castle used to be the demesne of the Earl of Arundel, Roger Montgomery, but after his death it passed to the Crown. Henry loves Arundel, and I can understand his wish to celebrate the first Hallowmas of his reign there. It is a magnificent castle.”
She pointed to herself, shaking her head.
“You have no choice, Rosamunda. When the king commands a household to attend, everyone of consequence goes.”
He brushed a kiss on her knuckles, sending shivers up and down her spine. “I will be proud to take you as my betrothed.”
She liked the sound of that. She would be safe with Adam to protect her.
“Paulina will be expected to go also.”
A problem. “She will refuse.”
I Have Told Her
“Absolutely not,” Paulina shouted. “I will not accompany you to Arundel.”
Denis was worried. Paulina had made great strides in a short time. She had asked him many questions about his deformity and how he had coped with the censure. He’d willingly admitted to fears and resentments he’d never shared with anyone before. She seemed to relax as the days passed and they strolled together around the estate. He felt sh
e was coming to trust him.
Now the fear was back.
Adam rolled his eyes. “You risk angering the king if he gets wind of your refusal. Your brothers will be there, as will Rosamunda. Your existence will come to light. We cannot lie about it. That has gone on too long. Henry will be angry enough with Vincent and Lucien without your compounding the problem.”
Paulina turned away, her attention seemingly on the kitten in the satchel she bore across her body. “Rosamunda need not go. She can stay with me.”
Rosamunda stamped her foot. “I want to go.”
She shot a strange glance at Adam, her face reddening.
Denis wondered what was going on.
Adam put his arm around Rosamunda’s shoulder and cleared his throat. “This was not the way we wanted to tell you both, but, we are betrothed.”
For a moment, Denis thought he had misheard, but one look at his brother’s face quickly disabused him of the notion. His Giant had fallen in love. He was not surprised, having recognised Adam’s immediate attraction to Rosamunda. A deaf man and a muette. A perfect union. His heart overflowed for his brother’s happiness.
But it was unlikely he had he recovered in the short time he had been away, unless Rosamunda had worked some miracle.
In a few weeks the young mute had seemingly won Adam’s trust. That should not irritate him as much as it did.
Paulina swayed beside Denis, staring at her sister. How bereft she must feel at this moment. He wanted to fall to his knees and promise to treasure her forever.
A chill washed over him. If Paulina rejected him, the Dwarf would face a future alone. But he did not want her to come to him to escape loneliness, or out of fear.
He wanted her to love him, as the blushing and smiling Rosamunda so obviously loved Adam. His fledgling hopes had risen during the past few days.
Birthright Page 12
