by Колин Глисон
“Surely you do not find wedding with me such a challenge that you should jump, choosing death instead of me,” he said quietly, purposely echoing similar words he’d said to her on the battlements at Mal Verne. Tonight, he spoke only partially in jest.
Madelyne turned regally. “I knew that you would find me here.”
Her smile gleamed in the darkness, and he was overwhelmed with longing. When had she turned into such a siren?
“What do you here?” he asked, stepping toward her so he could be close enough to feel her warmth. It was amazing: the warmth that emanated from her was not just a physical one…’twas one that enveloped him and made him feel manly, strong, and protective.
Her shoulders moved gracefully. “I wished only to look upon the land from here…and to think. My life will change greatly on the morrow.” She turned to face him, the uneven stone wall at her back.
“Aye.” His word hung quietly between them.
“I’ve forgiven you for taking me from the abbey,” she offered, reaching to touch his face. It was the first time she’d felt the smoothness of his cheek, and she rested her hand there, allowing her fingers to soak up every sensation of warmth and the harsh, short hairs that had sprung up since that morning’s shave. “I look ahead to my life with you and at Mal Verne. I’ve come to believe God has directed me in such a way that I could not balk it.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist, still conscious of the soreness in his shoulder, and pulled her hips to his. He cared not whether she would feel the throbbing arousal that lifted between them. “I did not ever believe I would wed again,” he told her, stroking his hand down the side of her cheek.
“Judith told me what happened with Nicola…and my father. I didn’t know. Gavin…I am sorry that he should have been the cause of so much grief in your life… And Judith told me also of Gregory. She has long forgiven you, Gavin…’tis time you forgave yourself.”
He sighed. “Ah, Judith. ’Tis ever she has the loose tongue!”
He pulled her again to him, again only to hold her head against his chest, to bury his face in her hair while the wind tossed around them, to allow himself the luxury of knowing only that moment…for that moment. Her breasts swelled against him and he enjoyed the knowledge that he would learn every part of those curves on the morrow.
“When we first met,” Madelyne said, her voice muffled against his chest, “I saw you as a cold and driven man, seeking only revenge, and caring little for the sanctity of life. You acted foolishly during the fire—with honor, but with little thought for your safety. ’Twas as if you disdained danger, and relished the opportunity for death.” She pulled back to look up at him, her delicate features shadowed by the mooncast. “I no longer see that same need within you, Gavin…and I hope that your need for danger and killing and war will ease with time.”
“I have more to live for now,” he told her, stroking her hair as it fluttered under his hand. “We will live together at Mal Verne with our children, and—” He stopped as she tensed within his arms, becoming completely still. “What is it, Madelyne? Verily you did not expect to be released from the obligation of bearing my heir?” Fear gripped him and harshness crept into his voice. Surely she did not expect that he would relieve her of the duty of filling his bed!
He held her away to look into her eyes and saw genuine fear shining in them, there under the moonlight. “You understand that I must have an heir, and that any man you would marry would require that of you!”
Madelyne nodded slowly, pulling from the grip he did not want to release. She stood with her arms crossed over her middle as though she felt pain there, and looked out into the darkness. “Aye, my lord, I know…and it was foolish of me to forget that. ’Tis only… Gavin, I have madness running in my blood! I am tainted…and will have tainted children!”
Relief, pure and bold, swept through him. “Madelyne…ah, Madelyne… ” He cupped her face with his hands. “Listen, and listen well… ” He delved into her eyes, searching them to make sure she saw his sincerity—and the truth therein. “Your father is mad, aye, but, Madelyne, there is nothing but sanity—beautiful, warm, sensitive, true serenity in you. I look into your eyes and I see naught of the madness that clouds Fantin’s eyes or his actions… Madelyne, ’tis I who should fear tainting your goodness with my blood should we have a child!”
She stared up at him for a moment, then began to blink rapidly as moisture glistened in her eyes. “Gavin…thank you. Such beautiful words…and I see the conviction in your eyes, and know that you believe them. I can only pray, then, that you are right and that the madness will not run in the veins of our children.”
Twenty-Four
“In the name of God, let all know that this man and this woman are joined forevermore. Let none pull them asunder, and let them be one until death parts them.”
Madelyne looked at Gavin, and he felt a surge of emotion as he grasped her hands tighter. He bent to press a chaste kiss to her pink lips, then another, and pulled away as the witnesses applauded in delight. Taking one of her hands, he slipped it into the crook of his arm and led his beautiful bride from the chapel and into the Great Hall.
They would feast and celebrate—the court had been waiting eagerly for this opportunity—and as soon as possible, Gavin would whisk Madelyne away to what was now the chamber they shared. He’d informed the king in no uncertain terms that there would be no bedding ceremony. “The sheets may be inspected in the morn, but I will not have Madelyne subjected to disrobing in the presence of anyone but myself or her maid.”
The king chortled at his man’s vehement comment, but acquiesced. “If I did not know better, Gavin, I should think you were well and truly smitten with the nun. Nevertheless, it will be as you say: no bedding ceremony…presuming you can abscond from the celebration in secret. I will not be responsible for the overzealous actions of your men and peers should they follow you!”
Gavin had agreed—he’d received more support from his king than expected—and now, as he sat next to his new bride at the high table, he had difficulty keeping his thoughts on the conversation he shared with Eleanor. When Madelyne had appeared to join him at the altar, he’d felt as though someone had slammed him in the stomach.
She wore a pearlescent gown of fabric that shimmered when she moved—the likes of which he’d never seen before. The undergown and over-tunic were cut of the same cloth, and both fitted to her body in a manner quite unbecoming a nun.
But she was no longer a nun.
Yet, Madelyne’s garb was simple in its cut, and decoration. It was the fabric that made her look like a moon goddess, with her fair, serene face, pale pink lips, and long, glossy strands of hair the color of the blackest of nights that hung past her waist. A thin circlet of silver rested about the crown of her head, ineffective for holding her thick tresses in place, but perfect as a simple adornment that framed her face. A large pearl drop hung from the center of her forehead, suspended from the circlet, and long ropes of blue-white pearls wound around her neck and swung to the girtle made from silver links.
Gavin had never seen her hair completely unbound, and now, as it curled at the tips, falling over her shoulder as she bent to eat, he reached to touch one thick lock. He lifted it, feeling its weight, and wondered how soon they could leave the dinner.
He sipped at his wine and continued his conversation with Eleanor, even as he watched his wife chat with the king, who sat on the other side of her. Observing her, he could not believe that only one moon earlier, she’d been a shy, naive nun ensconced in a cloistered abbey. Today, she spoke more confidently, moved with more sureness, and most certainly was the most stunning woman he’d ever seen.
And she was his.
That was enough. Gavin rose from his seat, leaned to kiss Eleanor’s hand, and said, “Your majesty, I have greatly enjoyed your presence…but I am off to enjoy my wife now. I must have you know that I am most indebted to you for urging me in that direction.”
Eleanor smiled sly
ly and squeezed his arm. “You are quite deserving of that prize…and I am shocked that you lasted as long at dinner as you have!”
Leaning toward Madelyne, he whispered in her ear, “I bid you excuse yourself, madame, and have Clem escort you to our chamber. I will join you very shortly. I have had enough of this prattering and wish to have you to myself.”
Her large, wide eyes turned to look up at him in surprise, but Madelyne did as she was bid. Gavin assisted her in bringing the bulk of her skirts from around the chair on which she sat, and, gesturing to Clem, sent her off in the right direction.
Now, the trick would be for Gavin to disappear without the revelers noticing and following him to insist upon the bedding ceremony. It was his plan to be well gone before any of them noticed.
* * *
Tricky awaited her mistress in the chamber, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed with excitement. “There has never been a more beautiful bride, I vow,” she gushed, helping Madelyne from her over-tunic. She unlaced the sides of her undergown and pulled it over her head, leaving her mistress clad in only a light chemise.
“The man is mad for you,” Tricky continued as she helped her disrobe from the shift and then slip into a cream-colored slip of the lightest, finest linen cloth. “Would that Clem has come to his senses by now, but it appears that he is a bit more thick-headed than your Gavin.”
Your Gavin. Madelyne fixated on those words. He was, indeed, hers now, and the thought made her stomach curl and flutter as she thought of what was to come.
All too soon, Tricky finished brushing her hair and, with one last pat on the head, hurried from the room, leaving Madelyne to herself. But no sooner had Tricky gone than a soft knock came and the door opened.
Gavin slipped in and turned to close the door, bolting it immediately. “I believe I escaped without being detected…but there is always the chance that someone saw me.” He turned and froze when he saw her, standing next to the blazing fire.
“Madelyne…Lady Mal Verne…it is as if every time I see you, you grow more beautiful.” He stepped toward her, resting the weight of his hand on her cheek and then reaching to smooth it down the length of her hair. “Since the moment I met you, I needed to see you thus…with your hair loose. I craved for days to know even the color of your hair…and feared you’d shaven it at the abbey. Now…I wish to see you clothed only in those black locks.”
Warmth and anticipation skittered up her spine, and Madelyne felt the full impact of the effect she had upon the man who was now her husband. With a boldness she did not know she possessed—or how she came about it—she caught hold of her shift. Raising her hands above her head, lifting her unbound breasts under the chemise, and she felt the light linen scrape over them as she pulled the slip from her body.
When it fell to the floor beside her, she heard Gavin’s intake of breath and saw the darkness surge into his eyes. His gaze heavy and dark, he strode toward her and gathered her into his arms. Her naked body fit to him, all along the length of him, sensitive to the roughness of his own clothing, the rise and fall of his chest, and the hardness of his arousal pulsing between them.
They kissed wildly, as one of his large hands reached between them to hold the heaviness of her breast, and Madelyne’s bare feet settled atop Gavin’s booted ones. The mixture of sensation between the coarse fabric of his tunic and the soft sensuality of his mouth, along with the demanding strokes of his thumb over her stiff nipple, caused a great shiver to tremble along her spine. Something swelled and dampened pleasantly between her legs.
With a deep breath, Gavin set her away from him and stepped back, placing both hands on his hips as if to keep them in control. “I believe it only fair that we should be on equal standing,” he told her with a crooked half-smile. “Allow me to disrobe—if it please you, my lady—and we may commence with our desires then.”
“It pleases me to assist you,” she said, needing something to do, to focus on other than what was to happen.
She knelt at his feet, gathering her hair into a bundle and pushing it over one shoulder. Slowly, as the anticipation between them grew, she untied his boots, removing them from his feet. She unlaced his cross-garters, taking her time, sliding along the firm, muscled calves they enclosed. Madelyne felt the weight of his hand on the top of her head, and the firmness as his fingers tightened when she reached to pull down his chausses.
His legs now bare to her, Madelyne saw how thick and darkly-haired they were. She saw the ridges of muscle and the planes of his knees rising into massive thighs half-covered by his tunic. Heat pooled in her middle, sliding from her belly to the place between her legs, and she suddenly felt light-headed even as she reached to touch him.
As though sensing the effect he had on her, Gavin reached for her shoulder, lifting her gently from under the arm, so that she stood in front of him. “My tunic,” he said in a rasping voice, reaching with both hands to gather up her breasts in the moment before she moved.
She obeyed, helping him to pull it up and over, stepping close enough that the tips of her upthrust breasts brushed against his thin sherte . Gavin’s breath came faster, harsher now and he stepped back to yank the sherte from his shoulders—standing bare before her. His chest, broad and dusted with hair, rose and fell, rose and fell, and his bare, muscular arms hung, unmoving, from his defined shoulders.
Madelyne looked, saw that part of him that Peg promised would bring pleasure to her if she allowed it, and swallowed. Her dry throat constricted, grating in the silent room, and she stood still—unsure of what to do.
Gavin stepped toward her, and they were skin to skin, mouth to mouth, foot to foot. Before she realized it, he’d shifted them toward the bed and sank onto it with her.
The different textures of his body enticed her—coarse thatches of hair, rough callused fingertips, moist lips, sleek muscles, and soft hair—and Madelyne touched every part of him.
At last, he eased away, guiding her onto her back, and leaned over her to take one of her nipples into his mouth. He sucked gently, using the tip of his tongue to trace the sudden hardness there. She gasped at the sensation—a fire—that streaked through her, and her eyes closed as pleasure swelled and surged inside her.
“Gavin… ” she breathed. With a brief, wicked grin such as she’d never seen before from him, he glanced up at her, then returned to his gentle teasing. Madelyne sighed in delight, shivering with a heat she’d never expected to know…and then nearly leapt off the bed when she felt the warm weight of his palm covering the thatch of hair between her legs. “Gavin, nay…what… ” Her voice trailed off as a wave of throbbing heat started there between her legs and shot to the end of each nerve.
His fingers slipped in and through her private place in a teasing rhythm, gentle over the most sensitive nub that seemed to swell with every stroke. Madelyne found herself reaching inside, deep inside, for something that was…just…out…of…reach… And suddenly she was there, shuddering under his fingers and mouth and hands, sobbing with the shock of such pleasure, burying her face into the bedding to wipe the tears.
“Maddie, Maddie,” he whispered, taking her into his arms and pulling her close to his solid chest. “My sweet, my sweet…you are so lovely.” He kissed her on the top of her head, trailing gentle pecks along her hair and chin and to her mouth, where he covered her lips fully with hers. His slick tongue drove inside her mouth and he became more urgent, his hands pulling her hips, shifting them as he pressed her back onto the bed.
All at once, he paused, stilling in his position above her. “Maddie, do you know what is to happen?” he asked, his voice taut, his eyes searching hers. “Aye,” she breathed, thanking Tricky—who, for all of her talk, was as inexperienced as her mistress—for broaching the subject with Peg. “Aye, I am ready, Gavin.”
With a last, delving kiss, Gavin pulled back to ease between her legs. There was a smooth, sliding sensation and then, one sharp movement followed by a stab of pain. She gasped and he stilled, waiting for the surpris
e to pass.
He moved slowly, sliding in a sweet, warm rhythm. The pain ebbed, and as the numbness eased, something else began to take its place—that delicious, swelling sensation from before. Gavin’s breath came more harshly and Madelyne twitched beneath him. He shifted into a faster, more urgent rhythm, and Madelyne closed her eyes as the pleasure grew, billowing into that explosion of beauty once again. As she gave a soft cry of surprise— again! —he arched back, fitting deep into her with one last thrust.
She felt him shudder against her and saw the naked beauty on his face in that moment of pleasure, and his low, rough exhalation. As Gavin came back to himself, she gathered him close, closing her eyes and smiling at an intimacy she’d never thought to experience.
How blessed had she become.
* * *
The morn came too soon for Gavin, but he relinquished the blooded sheets to a squire so that they could be displayed as proof of Madelyne’s virginity and his own ability to consummate the marriage. There would be no chance of an annulment with such evidence.
Despite the fact that it was the day after his wedding, he was expected to attend Henry—and Madelyne to be present in Eleanor’s court room—so they rose and went about their business during the day.
But when the evening came, and they ate in the great hall together, Gavin could not keep his attention from Madelyne…and from the rising color on her face, he presumed that her thoughts followed the same path as his. He could not remember ever feeling happier or more fulfilled in his life.
Even in his early days with Nicola—when he’d believed they might share a love betwixt them some day—this self-same sense of contentment and pure peace was never part of his life. Madelyne had brought that depth of serenity to him, and he’d spoken truthfully to her. Somehow in the last weeks since he’d met her, Gavin had lost his death wish, his urge to leave this earth, his sense of carelessness with his life. Now…he realized he wanted only to make a life with Madelyne.
