Emalie stood and walked to the window of the solar. Sitting for too long was bothering her so she decided to walk outside before their meal. The early-morning sickness that had frequently plagued her had stopped, but some smells and tastes still brought on nausea. And while lying abed this morn, she felt a movement within her for the first time. ’Twould not be long until her shape grew larger and changed and her activities would be curtailed.
Alyce followed her everywhere now and they walked out into the courtyard and, after catching sight of Christian working his horse near the stables, she decided to watch. Although it was nearly Saint Matthew’s Day and Michaelmas shortly after, the weather stayed warmer than usual. Christian had remarked that their vineyards were enjoying the good weather and his wine master foretold of an excellent harvest and quality.
Christian was practicing with the horse he used during jousts in tournaments. Although he had no need to earn riches by competing any longer, he did not want his horses to lose their edge and so he and Luc worked with them on a regular basis. Emalie shielded her eyes from the glare of the midday sun and watched as her husband demonstrated how he had become a tournament champion. Watching during this practice time, Emalie felt a bit jealous of those who had seen him competing in the real jousts, for his ability to be one with his mount and control the horse under the pressure of attack was obvious.
He noticed her when they took a break and rode to where she stood. He lifted his helm and bowed his head in greeting.
“My lady, how do you fare?” he said, smiling.
“I am well, my lord. And you?”
“I am pleased with my efforts this day,” he said, looking over at Luc as he approached them. “Especially since I have unseated Sir Luc the last four times we have fought.”
Luc pulled his visor up and glared at Christian, making Emalie laugh. How much like children these two were! “My lady, believe not this slander. Your husband has used trickery in his attempts to beat me.”
“Trickery, my lord? I would not have thought it of you.” She joined in the teasing.
Luc smiled smugly at Christian. “I knew your lady would disapprove of such methods.”
Christian dismounted and walked over to the fence. A squire ran to him to take his weapons and helmet. Luc stayed on his horse and waited.
“If Sir Luc would keep his mind on his weapons and not on his wife’s b—”
“My lord!” she and Luc cried out together.
“’Tis not my fault that he is easily distracted.” Christian laughed and nodded to his friend. “Fatin has long been his weakness and a good fighter will focus on his opponent’s defects.”
The two were about to have a battle of words over their prowess as warriors, but a messenger called to Christian from the gate. Waving him forward, Emalie waited to hear the news he brought. Dispatches were a common occurrence between their many estates, but this messenger was not known to her.
He bowed to them both and then handed his letters to Christian. He stood waiting for any response to the information contained within. Her husband unfolded the larger vellum packet and read the words. He held on to a smaller piece as he continued to read. Then he turned to Emalie.
“Lord Durwyn of Lemsley invites us to his daughter’s wedding in a fortnight. What think you of this?”
Happiness filled her at the thought of seeing her friend. Fayth’s betrothal had been one of the last things her father approved before his illness and Emalie had waited and waited for a wedding date to be announced. Before she could answer, he laughed.
“I can see by your expression that you believe this a good match?”
“Aye, my lord. Fayth and Sir Hugh are well suited for each other.”
“I fear that is not a convenient time for us to travel there, my lady. What with the weather about to change and the preparations for winter upon us…mayhap we should send our felicitations to them and visit at another time.”
She could not think of a way to argue with him without arguing. Her thoughts jumbled as she tried to put words together that would not insult him or be demanding, but would make him understand how much she wanted to go. She was about to speak when she looked up and saw the repressed smile that made his lips twitch.
“My lady, I but tease you about this. I have heard you mention Lord Durwyn and his family many times and would not think of keeping you from them at this time.”
Emalie looked at him and felt her heart almost burst within her chest. And suddenly all she could do was cry. The sobs came from deep within and as she stood helpless against the power of them, Christian wrapped her in his arms and rocked her as she wept. A few minutes later, as her tears were spent, she raised her head from his chest and took a deep breath trying to calm herself.
“Your pardon, my lord. I seem to be a maudlin mess these days.”
He held out a piece of linen to her, but his arms still encircled her. And the strangest thing was that she did not want to leave his embrace. Glancing around, for she knew the impropriety of standing so in public, she noticed that they were alone. Even Alyce was nowhere in sight.
“Do not fret, lady. I know they are tears of joy for your friend.”
“I have not seen her in these last few years since my mother’s passing, my lord. ’Twill be good to spend some time with her.”
“We can stay a few additional days at Lemsley if you wish.”
The tears threatened once again and she blinked them away. He thought they were for her friend. He had no idea that they were for him. “As you wish, my lord.”
“Come,” he said, touching a soft kiss to her forehead. “Let us go and give the messenger our answer and then you can read the message from Fayth herself.” He held out the smaller packet to her. “You will have preparations to make.”
He released her and offered his arm to escort her to the hall. Laying her hand on his, she walked at his side, trying not to be overwhelmed by either his embrace or his kiss. He had not touched her other than to escort her since the night in her chambers. She remembered the torrent of feelings he had caused that night with the touch of his mouth and his hands. Something inside her responded to just the memories of the heat and the aching and the throbbing and soon she felt as breathless as she had when he’d created those waves of passion within her.
Emalie wondered if he realized that he had kissed her. And her stomach did a little flip when she thought of how she wished he had touched his mouth to hers. She was tempted to look at him as they walked, but she hesitated to show how flustered an embrace and a kiss had made her. The worst part was that she wanted more.
Did husbands seek pleasure with wives who were breeding? He had not sought her bed yet, even though they had made peace between them. She had heard no more rumors and gossip about Lyssa or Belle sharing his bed, but that could simply mean he was being more discreet than before. Confused, she knew there was really no one to ask such a question of and she was unwilling to discuss the concern with him.
Mayhap she could ask Fatin? Fatin had an understanding of men and how they thought. Her comments during their conversations in the privacy of the solar were both enlightening and entertaining. Emalie decided to think on it before broaching this private a matter.
As they reached the hall, she knew the next several weeks would be busy as she prepared for the trip and then traveled to Lemsley. And for the first time in a very long time, she was contented with her life.
Chapter Fifteen
The air around him took on a sudden chill as the sun began to slip lower in the sky. Even though it was close to the equinox, dusk would not darken the day for a few more hours. Still, that did not protect travelers from the change in the temperature when midday had passed. Christian felt behind him to make certain that his cloak was nearby. A few more hours of riding would bring them to their destination and a warm place to spend the night.
His attention was drawn by the sound of Luc clearing his throat, and a bit too obviously to ignore it. Glancing back in the
direction that Luc nodded, he saw that Emalie was not sitting well on her mount. Squinting through the shadows of the tree-lined path, he could see that his wife was fighting sleep. He cursed her stubbornness under his breath as he pulled the reins and guided his own mount back to hers. Positioning himself next to her, he called to her softly.
“My lady.”
Instead of the response he wanted, her head drooped lower.
“Emalie.”
Not wanting to startle her into a fall, he moved in closer, grasped her forearm and used his leg to steady hers. Her eyes fluttered open and then her gaze cleared as she woke from her light drowse.
“My lord? Did you call me?” she asked as she moved herself back into the center of her saddle.
Christian was struck at the innocence and beauty in his wife’s face as she shook off sleep’s grasp. And the realization that he wanted to see her wake in the morning surprised him. Like a punch in his gut, desire for his wife flared once more.
“If you are tired, you should ride in the cart with your maid.” He tried with all his strength and resolve not to let his craving for her show. In spite of their truce, he could not let himself want a woman who carried another man’s seed.
“I will be fine, my lord. My thanks for your concern.”
He watched as she pushed her hair off her shoulders and then reached for her cloak when it fell behind her. Startled by her actions, her horse sidestepped and she shifted to one side. Without thought, he reached across the space between them, grasped her at the waist and lifted her off her mount and onto his lap.
“My lord, truly, I can ride my own mount,” she whispered to him in a voice no one else could hear. “This is not necessary.”
Emalie leaned forward and reached out to grab the cloak that now dragged on the ground next to them. Fearing that she would feel the physical proof of his body, he scooped her up and settled her more comfortably across his thighs.
“You were about to fall to the ground. You are safer here.”
She leaned away as far as she could and gazed at him, confusion evident in her eyes and in the way her forehead crinkled into a frown. She began shaking her head at him as though she would refuse and then looked around at their entourage. He watched as the realization that they were being observed sank in and as his wife once again became a dutiful, demure woman.
“As you wish, my lord.”
Her words were soft and full of surrender and he could feel her tremble in his arms as he gathered her close to him. She had never approached him of her own volition or expressed a willingness to, and what bothered him most was that with each passing day he wanted her more.
Christian tried again to convince himself that he did not want her. However, his initial thoughts of putting her aside had been banished, for in truth, they dealt well with each other now.
But his body, now strengthened with ample amounts of food and exercise, taunted him with a weakness and a desire for her that only one thing could satisfy. And he would not allow that to happen. He could not.
So why did he now hold her close enough that he could smell the fragrance of the soap she washed with? Every turn of her head released the scent of roses and honey that tortured him with the need to bury himself within her. He leaned down closer and inhaled her very essence, still fighting to turn his thoughts away from those desires.
“Why do you not ride in the cart?” he asked as he guided his mount forward and back into his place in the double line of riders. She gave him no answer. He squeezed her gently and said again, “Why not ride in the cart with your maid?”
Without looking at him, she whispered her answer. “The rocking of the cart…makes me…ill, my lord.”
It was the babe she carried that made her ill. Many things could make a woman who was increasing ill—smells, motion, even foods. He knew this from observing the women of his estates and even his own family. He remembered his stepmother complaining that the smell of roasting pigeon made her stomach lurch while she was carrying his brother.
Her reference to the babe, even at his behest, caused the anger to flare in spite of his resolve. The reality of her pregnancy was still difficult to face. He took several deep breaths and tried to calm his anger. She had not complained about the ills of breeding or brought anything about her condition to his attention, as he had ordered in the solar the day he found out about it.
If he was to retain his honor and his pride, he must swallow this bitter drink and act, at least in public, as though she carried his seed within her. Christian knew that custom saved him in this—no noble husband who married for lands and wealth took an interest in a breeding wife the months before the birth of an heir. He thought of those men whose wives were carrying and felt confident in this belief. Other than a few trivial questions on an occasional basis, his role would be to turn this process over to the women of Emalie’s circle and inquire once the birth was accomplished. However, the words that came out of his mouth surprised even him.
“’Tis a common enough complaint of breeding women. Ride here a while and see if it passes.”
Emalie leaned away once more and stared at him. He would not meet her gaze and soon she turned back to face the road. After some minutes at their regular pace, he felt her body relax against his in sleep. Capturing her chin in his hand, he positioned her face on his chest and rested his own chin on the top of her head where her fragrance once more tortured him.
She slept in his arms for the next several hours, even as they made their way into Lord Durwyn’s walled yard and were surrounded by the sounds of a busy keep. Christian continued to hold her though his arms had long ago begun to cramp from not moving. Amazed at how deeply she slept, he reined in his horse, stopped near the steps and gathered her into his arms, ready to dismount. It would have been easier to wake her, but something within him did not want to disturb her or this time of holding her close.
As he suspected would happen if she woke, her eyes fluttered open and she realized who held her and how. She slipped from his hold and into the waiting arms of his new squire. Damn the boy for being thorough in his duties to his lord’s wife! She regained her balance once on her feet and he watched a smile light her face. Jumping from the horse, he took his place next to her and observed a whole throng of people pour out from the double wooden doors at the top of the stairs.
Protocol demanded that she stay at his side and she did, but Christian could feel her trembling with excitement and looked at those approaching from within. An older man and woman, obviously Lord Durwyn and his wife, Hertha, led the group down the stairs. A younger woman peeked anxiously around them and he surmised that this was the childhood friend of whom Emalie had spoken so enthusiastically—the lady Fayth, soon to be married to a Sir Hugh of some nearby and noble family.
Lord Durwyn continued down until he stood on the landing and then he bowed deeply before Christian and Emalie. The rest of the group followed his lead, with the women dipping into curtsies, and all remained in obeisance until Christian accepted his greetings and took him by the hand. Without a moment more of hesitation, the young woman pushed around her parents and rushed to Emalie, pulling her into a crushing embrace and squealing those words that only women understand.
“Daughter!” Lord Durwyn cried out in a loud disapproving voice. “You have not yet been presented to the Earl of Harbridge. Have you not learned anything of proper manners?”
Fayth paused for a moment and then released Emalie from her arms. Stepping back, she lowered her head and curtsied again before him. “Forgive me, my lord. I fear that my excitement at seeing Em…er…the countess, overcame my observance of protocol. I hope you will pardon my lapse and not hold my parents responsible for my behavior.”
Glancing at those who listened, Christian realized that they did not know what to expect of him. Even Emalie’s face was now shadowed in concern.
“Rise, please, Lady Fayth. I understand that you have been friends with my ladywife for many years. Your excitement at seeing h
er is certainly expected and not unseemly at all.”
A collective sigh was released as he nodded to Lord Durwyn and Lady Hertha. He spoke the truth. Remembering how he had felt when Geoff and Luc had arrived at Greystone those many weeks ago, he could imagine what Fayth and Emalie were feeling. So far as he knew, Emalie had no companion at Greystone to share her thoughts and gossip with. Emalie held to her station and, although scrupulously polite to the wives of his knights and those of their joined estates, kept her own counsel.
“With your permission, my lord, we have prepared a meal for you and the countess. Would you wish to partake of that now?” Lady Hertha asked as she stepped from her husband’s shadow and stood before them.
“I would dearly love a cup of wine, but I think that my wife needs to refresh herself from the journey. If you would see to her needs, perhaps Lord Durwyn could see to my comfort?”
Emalie’s face lit up with joy again at this opportunity to spend some time with her friend and her parents’ friends. Something inside him tightened as he watched her being led off by the two women, all of them exchanging greetings and hugs at one time. They disappeared into the keep before he even took a step, their delighted laughter echoing back to him in the courtyard. It warmed his heart to hear it.
And he realized in that instant that he wanted more from her than politeness and obedience. He wanted her to gift him with the kind of smiles and joy that she had given to Lady Fayth. And he wanted her to look forward to his presence as she had to this trip. And…he simply wanted her. A sense of acceptance filled him as he finally knew that he could no longer fight this longing to have her.
Christian looked over at the older man and nodded to him, following him into the keep. He had many questions for Lord Durwyn, questions about the land and the upcoming winter, about his wife’s family and her father’s plans for her, and about the involvement of Prince John in the concerns of the Montgomeries. He had much to learn while he was here for Durwyn’s daughter’s wedding and he would begin now to gather together the facts of the past and present.
The Dumont Bride Page 15
