by June Francis
‘I don’t believe it. There has been no time.’
Rosamund’s eyes gleamed with a sapphire light. ‘I married him two days ago in front of a priest in my godmother’s bedchamber.’
Ingrid’s lips tightened into a thin line. ‘Your godmother! She is the one with the white painted face? Why did you marry the Baron in her bedchamber? Perhaps she has not long to live and thought to provide you with a protector,’ Ingrid said in pitying tones. ‘You cannot really believe a real baron would marry you without some incitement. Besides, he should be arrested and thrown into a deep, dark dungeon. He is a pirate and has attacked English ships. I will see to it that he is arrested,’ she said passionately.
Rosamund could feel a megrim coming on, but her curiosity was roused. ‘How can a nun have my husband arrested?’
Ingrid smiled. ‘Now you ask a sensible question and I will give you an answer. I will speak to the new Queen of Scotland and ask her to deal with the matter.’
‘You are acquainted with her Majesty?’ asked Rosamund with genuine surprise.
Ingrid drew herself up and there was an odd expression in her pale blue eyes. ‘I am a representative of the Bridgettine Order at Syon House, where prayers have been said for the Princess Margaret daily. They will continue, even though she is now Queen.’ She smirked. ‘I was appointed to bring her a wedding gift because I have royal blood in my veins. It is a specially printed copy of the gospel of St Luke. She was delighted.’ Ingrid tucked her hands in her wide sleeves. ‘Now I will go and have a word with the Queen and you may come with me.’
‘I would rather not,’ said Rosamund, wondering what the Baron would make of this news. ‘I can see my husband coming. You had better go.’
Ingrid’s self-satisfied expression altered and she hurried away, only to collide into one of the tumblers and send him flying. She steadied herself and suggested loudly that he pick himself up, then she left the hall.
‘Frightened her away, did I?’ said Alex, looking grim.
‘She as good as said that she has the ear of Princess Margaret—I mean, the new Queen of Scotland.’
Alex’s expression was suddenly alert. ‘Did she say how she managed that?’
‘Apparently the nuns pray daily for the Princess Margaret and Ingrid was chosen to bring a present for her from the convent.’
‘She has retreated to the convent in the past, so perhaps some of what she told you was true.’ Alex sat down next to his wife and grinned at her. ‘I don’t know how you extracted that information from her, but it is possible that she could worm herself into the royal confidence and end up in a position where she is able to discover the date of departure and the route Queen Margaret and her entourage will take to the border.’
Rosamund was warmed by his praise. ‘I am glad I please you. I can add to the information I have already given you and tell you that she was going to ask the new Queen to have you arrested for piracy.’
‘Did she now?’ Alex whistled. ‘She would need to provide proof and no doubt she believes Edward could do that due to his own involvement.’
‘He did tell her I was crazed and she wanted to take me to him.’
Alex’s gold-brown eyes flamed with anger and he took Rosamund’s hand and held it firmly. ‘You have given me at least two reasons why I should kill him. The pair of them remind me of the mythical serpents who inhabited the underworld Isle of Naastrand, dripping venom on suffering sinners.’
Rosamund gazed down at their linked hands. ‘Mockery and criticism and cruelty over a long period does poison one’s confidence and could drive them crazy.’
He raised her hand to her lips and kissed it. ‘But those hurts are now in the past. Right now our concern must be that the new Queen of Scotland does not come to any harm.’
‘We will tell Godmother and she will warn her,’ said Rosamund.
‘No,’ said Alex firmly. ‘We need to catch our conspirators in the act and must have definite proof. Those involved are people of position and power.’
‘So is my godmother.’
‘I would not deny it, but despite her position and her connection to the royal family, some regard Lady Elizabeth as being a little mad. She has admitted as much herself. We must be patient.’
She nodded and winced with the pain in her head. ‘Tell me—were you able to follow Edward?’
‘Aye. I saw him in conversation with Lord Bude.’
‘Lord Bude! Could you hear what they were saying?’
‘Unfortunately, no. Why do you ask?’
Rosamund felt the colour flood to her face. ‘I have just realised that it is possible that I mistook him for you in the Hanseatic church in the Steel Yard.’
‘You mean he and Ingrid were locked in an embrace?’ He laughed. ‘Now, is he being ensnared by Ingrid to work for the conspirators or is he already one of them and she has a fancy for him? Even I would admit he is a handsome man. He also has a title, which always impresses Ingrid. I wonder what Fustian would make of it if he knew of that embrace?’
Rosamund thought he did not sound the least bit jealous of Bude. ‘Do you still want me to indulge in conversation with Lord Bude at the dress rehearsal?’
‘If you can, but don’t worry if you can’t.’
She nodded and then frowned, giving a little shiver before massaging her forehead.
Alex looked at her with concern. ‘Are you cold? Do you have a megrim?’
‘Aye. The noise and the smoke and…there is a draught.’
‘Then let us slip away before the royal family returns. I, too, have had enough of people and noise.’
A relieved Rosamund said, ‘What about Godmother?’
‘If we see her on the way out, we can explain that you are not feeling well.’
‘Do we tell her about Edward and Ingrid?’
‘Of course. But that can wait until later. Right now you need a quiet, dark room to lie down in.’
As they made their way to their bedchamber, Rosamund was aware that her husband’s hand was on his sword hilt. It was as if he was prepared for any sudden attack on them. Fortunately, they arrived at their destination without any unwelcome surprises. It was pure joy to kick off her shoes and stretch out on the bed and close her eyes.
The fire was still burning. Obviously, a servant had put more logs on it and there was a bucket of them at the side of the hearth. Not wanting Rosamund to get chilled, Alex put a couple more on the fire. Anxiety gnawed at his innards. He had never felt this worried about anyone before. Neither his grandparents nor Harry or Ingrid. What if this megrim was a sign of a serious illness and she died? He remembered her being out in the snow without a cloak and how her teeth had chattered.
‘Are you cold still?’ he asked.
‘I do feel a little shivery.’
He hurried over to her and sat on the side of the bed and placed a hand on her forehead. He was relieved to find that it was not burning hot.
‘Perhaps you would be better sitting by the fire.’
She sat up as if he had given her an order. ‘If that is what you want me to do?’
He smoothed back her hair from her forehead. ‘I want you to do whatever makes you feel better.’
‘As long as I do not have to open my eyes.’
Alex slid an arm beneath her and lifted her up and carried her over to the chair by the fire. He sat down with her on his knee. ‘How is this?’
‘Fine.’ Rosamund rested her head against his shoulder. ‘Are you comfortable?’ she murmured.
‘Aye.’ He was aware of the soft curve of her breast beneath the velvet cloak against his arm and the silky hair brushing his chin. ‘We have been married only two days, but it seems longer,’ he murmured.
‘Is that good or bad?’
He smiled. ‘I do not believe it is a bad sign.’
‘Is it not strange that some days go by like a flash and others, like today, have so much fitted into them? Ingrid was angry when I told her you were my husband. She said a Baron would need much inducement to mar
ry me. I should have mentioned Godmother’s dowry.’
‘I have no need of your dowry, but it would have impressed Ingrid. I would have liked to have been there when she told Edward that we were married.’
Rosamund opened her eyes to look into her husband’s face. He was grinning. She touched his cheek. ‘You have a good face.’
He took her hand and brushed her knuckles with his lips. ‘You have a lovely face.’
She smiled and lowered her eyelids again. ‘Edward will not like it that I am a Baroness.’
‘The new Baron and Baroness Dalsland. I can hear us being introduced at a masque in Stockholm.’
‘Were the old ones happy?’ asked Rosamund.
‘They respected each other and seemed content,’ he replied. ‘Although it was a grief to them that only my mother survived infancy. Sadly she must have been a disappointment to them.’
‘Why do you believe that?’ She yawned and closed her eyes. ‘Did they say so?’
‘No. But she presented them with only one grandchild and he was the illegitimate son of a foreigner.’ Alex’s voice sounded sad.
Rosamund’s eyelids fluttered open and she stared at him. ‘What are you saying?’
‘I should have told you before we were wed, but there were others present and I did not want them to know that I was a bastard,’ he said in bitter tones. ‘Neither could I risk them knowing the name of my father.’
‘Is this the secret you would not tell me?’
‘Aye. My father is a Scottish earl, but I did not know of his existence until six months ago.’ Alex found it easier to say than he had ever imagined. ‘My mother was his mistress for several years and I was the result of their union. She died soon after my birth and I was sent with a wet nurse to my grandparents’ home in Sweden. I grew up believing my father was a Swedish hero who had been killed in battle. It was his name I used most of my life. My grandmother did not tell me the truth until she was on her deathbed.’
Rosamund was moved almost to tears. ‘How terrible for you to believe yourself one person and then discover you are someone else altogether.’
Her sympathy warmed his heart and he hugged her close and covered her mouth with his and gave her an enthusiastic kiss.
Rosamund felt her megrim ebbing away as she returned his kiss. She was aware of a tide of pleasure creeping over her. Of their own volition her arms wound themselves around his neck.
He lifted her off her feet and carried her over to the bed, where he placed her down without breaking off the kiss. He lay beside her and when he did bring the kiss to an end, it was so he could press kisses down the line of her throat. His fingers undid the fastenings on the front of her gown. She stilled, but when he proceeded to kiss her lips once more and he made no move to remove her gown then she relaxed. He nibbled her ear. A tiny giggle escaped her and he flicked his tongue around its shell-like rim whilst undoing the ribbons at the neck of her undergown. He eased the garment from her shoulders. Aware of his arousal, Alex prayed she was not. He must keep himself under control and concentrate firmly on giving his wife pleasure. He had to make certain that she was unable to think of anything else but the sensations she was experiencing.
He kissed her again and darted his tongue along the inside of her lower lip. Immediately he sensed their mouths had all her attention and took the opportunity of lightly caressing her upper left breast before circling its centre with a single finger. He felt her breath catch and chose that moment to lower his head and nuzzle her nipple. She gasped, but did not pull away. He was glad, for he was receiving as much pleasure as she appeared to be. For a while his mouth lingered in this area that caused so much gratification for them both whilst he removed her clothing.
Rosamund was in a daze of delight by the time she realised she was stark naked and her husband’s tawny head was pressed against her belly. The words what are you doing? died on her lips as he kissed her hip bone and she felt his fingers penetrate that part of her that she had been determined once not to surrender to any man. She protested, but he reached up and silenced her with a kiss as his caresses began to work a subtle magic within. Her breath came fast as she felt a gradual build up of pleasure. Her body was still thrumming when he moved away.
She reached out to him in silent protest and watched him remove his clothes. She had never seen a man naked before and she told herself it was to be expected that her gaze would fix on that part of him that proclaimed his manhood. But he did not allow her time to wonder at its size because he returned to her, but this time he slowly and carefully eased that part of him inside her. She gasped, but the pain of his entry was not as great as she had expected. This time there was little gradual build up as he gained possession of her and she heard him groan as he seemed to explode inside her, creating a pleasure so exquisite that she thought her body would not be able to contain it.
Chapter Fourteen
Afterwards Alex and Rosamund lay in a tangle of arms and legs, reluctant to move. He knew now for certain that she had told the truth about the woodcutter not having touched her; also, his fear that Fustian might have raped her was completely allayed. Whilst riding astride on horseback might have stretched her a little, her maidenhood had been intact.
Rosamund stirred beneath him and he lifted his head from her shoulder and gazed down at her as she opened her eyes. He waited for her to speak, but she seemed only able to stare at him and he did not doubt that he had pleasured her. He smiled wryly, guessing she would not know how to thank him for it. No doubt she might be feeling a little discomforted by finding such delight in carnal behaviour. He was tempted to thank her because it had been as good as he had hoped and would be even better next time. His eyes searched for the washstand and drying cloth and he removed himself.
Rosamund watched surreptitiously as her husband washed that part of him that now lay limp. She marvelled at the wonders of the human body. How was it that a child could grow from the act that they had just performed? A child! Lady Elizabeth might get her way after all. Now she was tied to the Baron for fairer or fouler until death parted them. She could not wait to repeat what they had just done. She had not expected to be swept away on such a tide of—of carnal pleasure, and she was certain he must have enjoyed it, too.
There was something about this Swedish baron husband of hers that called to something inside her and it had overcome any resistance that might have lingered from knowing that they had both been tricked into marriage. She felt that she had reached a oneness with him that almost convinced her that she would never feel lonely again. It was only as she was drifting off to sleep that it occurred to her that he had not told her the name of his Scottish father.
The following morning, they were roused by Lady Elizabeth. ‘Come on, lie-abeds,’ she wheezed. ‘I wish I could sleep the way you two do. You’ll need to put on your costumes for the dress rehearsal. Not that I’m expecting everyone to turn up.’
‘Why not, Godmother?’ asked Rosamund, wishing she could share with her the pleasure she had felt in having the Baron make love to her for the first time.
‘I shall tell you over breakfast. It will be on the table in my parlour within half an hour. I also wish to know what happened yesterday that caused you to disappear without a word to me. And, Baron, a message has been delivered for you.’
Alex drew Rosamund close and kissed her before reluctantly releasing her and getting out of bed. He wished there was time to make love to his wife again, but other matters demanded his attention. He wrapped the bedcover around him and delayed long enough to go over to the window, draw back the curtains and gaze out.
‘What can you see?’ asked Rosamund, reaching for her undergown and slipping it on.
‘I can see little at the moment due to the mist. Hopefully it will lift.’ He turned and faced her. ‘You have not forgotten I wish you to try to draw Lord Bude out to talk about your stepbrother?’ His expression was sombre.
‘I have not forgotten.’ Rosamund had not expected to suffer that sinkin
g feeling whenever Edward was mentioned again. Somehow she had believed that what had happened last night between her and her husband had completely destroyed her fear. ‘I meant to ask you…’ She paused, watching him sluice his face in cold water.
‘What is it, Rosamund?’ He looked at her.
‘You did not tell me the name of your father.’
Alex stilled. ‘Can you not guess?’
The question prevented her from asking him again and instead set her thinking about who could his father possibly be.
Alex turned away and began to put on the black-and-silver costume. ‘I never wanted to meet him. I only did so because my grandmother insisted on my doing so before she died. It is he who asked me to find out what I could about those whom he suspected of plotting to destroy the peace pact. In return, I am to have the house and land on the Scottish coast that he gave to my mother.’
‘That is indeed generous of him,’ she said drily. ‘I presume if I am in a position to be able to guess his name that it has been mentioned?’
He smiled. ‘Clever Rosamund.’
Rosamund was pleased by the compliment and reached for the black-and-silver gown and pulled it on over her cream linen undergown. ‘I presume your natural father was already married when he had an affair with your mother.’
‘Aye. To my shame.’
‘Why your shame? It was not your sin,’ said Rosamund firmly. ‘I suppose one could say that at least he was being considerate of his wife if you weren’t there as a constant reminder to her of his adultery.’
‘I have never viewed my rejection in that light before,’ said Alex, staring at her with dawning comprehension. ‘Do you really believe that was his reason for sending me away?’
‘It does not matter what I believe. What is important is what can make you feel better about yourself and your father,’ said Rosamund, searching for a comb to tidy her hair. ‘If you are to spend time in the house he has handed over to you, then surely it would be more pleasant if you could accept your father for what he is. After all, he must have been very fond of your mother to have given her a house and land and she must have been fond of him to have not requested of the Queen to return to her own home.’
