The Conqueror (Hot Knights)
Page 35
Jobert released the breath he had been holding and squeezed Edeva tightly to his chest with his free arm. She was silent for a while. Then she said, “Father Reibald has paid the price for his treachery, but what of Golde? She betrayed Godric and the rest of her countrymen. Though she may have been your lover once, surely you can see that she must be punished for her part in the plot.”
Jobert started. “My lover! Whatever gave you such a foolish notion?”
Edeva spoke tartly. “I saw you together one morning soon after you arrived at Oxbury. And she told me you shared her bed. In fact, she taunted me with the information!”
He could not help chuckling. “Ah, my silly Edeva, always believing the worst. I told you that I found women like Golde unappealing. ’Tis very clear she lets men bed her not because she enjoys lovemaking, but to gain power over them. Besides, why would I pursue a harlot like her when I could have a beautiful virgin like you?”
“You could not have me, then. We’d made a bargain you could not touch me if you wanted my aid in running Oxbury.”
“A bargain that you chose to ignore.”
He felt her stiffen and wondered if he’d offended her. Despite Edeva’s wild abandon in the bedchamber, she was still embarrassed when teased about her passion. “My love,” he leaned forward to nuzzle her silky hair, “I am very glad you decided to alter the terms of our arrangement. If you had continued to be cool and distant, I don’t know what I would have done. I was near out of my mind with desire for you.”
“I’ve always wondered why you did not take me by force. There are many men who would have disregarded an agreement made with a Saxon, and a woman.”
“I was not brought up that way, Edeva. I was taught to honor my agreements and to treat women with respect.”
“Even vicious hellcats like me?”
He laughed and leaned to kiss her cheek. “’Tis your fire that makes you such a passionate, exciting bedpartner. I would not trade that for a whole court of boring Norman maidens.”
“Truly?” she whispered.
“Truly.”
He cuddled her close, enjoying the simple pleasure of having her near. His wife. His lover. Nay, best not to think such thoughts in the present circumstances.
“Jobert,” she interrupted his lustful musings. “What are you going to do about Golde?”
“Mayhap I should have her whipped, but properly this time.”
“But if the flogging hurts her too badly, she might not be able to do her weaving. I can scarce afford to lose a skilled servant.”
Jobert laughed. “Always the practical one, aren’t you, Edeva? Tell me, do you seek retribution against the woman or not?”
“I want her to pay, but I don’t think that is the means. Golde’s weakness is her pride. She thinks no man can resist her. Nothing would humiliate her more than for her to lose her looks so she had no power over men.”
“But deliberately disfiguring her seems too cruel and barbaric.”
“Yea, it does. But there must be something... I have it!” Edeva turned in the saddle, her eyes bright. “We’ll send her to live in the village, where she’ll not have an opportunity to seduce the knights!”
“That hardly seems like sufficient punishment after what she’s done.”
“But that is not all of it. We’ll send her to live with Helwenna!”
“In that pigsty of a hut?”
“Helwenna needs someone to look after her, and she’s not likely to be swayed by Golde’s wiles. ’Twill be a loathsome, miserable existence for the wench.”
“What if she runs away?”
“Where will she go? Once the villagers know of her treachery, they’ll not shelter her, and she’s not such a fool as to try to survive alone in the forest.”
It seemed an odd discipline, Jobert thought, but for a woman it might work. At least it saved him the unpleasantness of having Golde whipped.
“And once we have done that, will that satisfy your taste for vengeance?”
She gave him a haughty look. “Do you imply that I am vindictive?”
“Nay, merely highly concerned with justice, as all your people are. The English appear to have a very strong sense of right and wrong.”
“And the Normans do not?”
Jobert shook his head ruefully. “Among the Normans I know, too often ‘might makes right’.”
“Is that why the king has refused to deal with Robert de Valois?”
It was Jobert’s turn to sigh. “He says that this is not the time. In truth, I can’t blame him. For all he has accomplished in England, William needs his Norman allies if he is to finish his work here.”
“You mean his work of oppressing Saxons?”
Jobert could not help grinning. Edeva would never let him forget they had once been bitter foes. “Peace, wench. You are married to a Norman now, and you must stop thinking of us as the enemy. Someday you will carry a child of mine in your belly. You’d best learn to speak more kindly of your son’s heritage.”
“How do you know I will give birth to a boy?”
“You must. How else will I honor my pledge to name one of my children after the king? ’Twould be very odd to have a daughter named William.”
“Hmmph. We shall see about what we will name our children, be they boys or girls. If King William does not do right by you, I don’t think he deserves such an honor!”
“William will do right by me, though it may take him twenty years. Whatever he is, the king is a man of his word.”
That seemed to satisfy Edeva, and Jobert felt himself relax. He enjoyed sparring with his wife, but he’d not want to do it all the way to Oxbury.
Alan rode up beside them, but said nothing. Jobert watched him out of the corner of his eye. When Alan cleared his throat, Jobert forced his own mouth shut. There was still a matter between his captain and his lady, and he’d not intervene.
“Lady Edeva. I must ask your pardon.”
Edeva suppressed a smile as Fornay spoke. She knew Alan had been working up to this for the past half-mile of riding beside them. Should she make him worry over her answer? Nay, that seemed too cruel. “You have it, Sir Alan,” she answered.
He shot her a wary look. “I have made many mistakes.”
“Have not we all?”
“But mine were... serious ones. I have treated you ill, worse than I have any man.”
“That may be, but you have asked my pardon and I have given it. There is naught more to say.”
“But there is! I would ask a boon of you.”
Edeva felt her mouth quirking. She could easily guess what Alan’s “boon” might be.
“I have a... fondness for a certain maid, but I fear she does not know it. I would ask your advice in the matter.”
Edeva considered. If she wished to repay Fornay for all the trouble he had caused her, he had given her the perfect means. Nay, she could not wish him ill in his quest. The obvious desperation in his voice touched her heart. “Very well, Fornay. My advice is to tell the woman how you feel.”
“That is all?”
“She cannot read your mind. If you do not tell her, how will she know?”
“But I thought... that is... I cannot...”
“Alan of Fornay, are you a coward?”
She saw his face flush and wondered if she had provoked him into despising her once more. “I thought better of you,” she added. “I did not think you would fear a dainty maid like Wulfget.”
“I do not fear her!” he bellowed.
“Then speak with her. Prove your mettle, sir knight. If you do not take this risk, then you do not deserve to have her.”
She heard him draw in his breath. “I’m afraid of what she will say.”
He was weakened, vulnerable, the perfect moment to land the crippling blow. But she would not. Alan of Fornay was not a bad man. He had persecuted her out of loyalty to Jobert, and his own misguided sense of how a woman should behave. She said softly, “If it aids you at all, then know that I think she
will favor your suit.”
“Truly?” Alan’s face lit up like an eager squire’s. “You believe she might care for me?”
“’Tis only a woman’s silly fancy, of course. The sort of thing that a sensible man like you might well discount.”
“I yield, Lady Edeva,” Alan broke in. “I submit to your counsel. I have found you to be right many times over.”
“Of course you have, Fornay,” Jobert said wryly. “Leowine of Oxbury raised no foolish daughters. Sons, mayhaps, but not daughters.”
Edeva felt a pang of tenderness well up inside her. How fortunate she was to have been “conquered” by this Norman. She would thank blessed Jesu every day for her beloved Jobert.
If only she could show him how she felt, how much she desired him... but mayhaps she could. “Jobert,” she said, “I am feeling rather faint. It must be the turmoil I endured yesterday. Could we stop for a time?”
He immediately pulled their mount to a halt. “What is it? How can I aid you?”
She turned around to whisper in his ear. A spark gleamed in his green eyes.
He motioned for his troops to halt, then dismounted and helped her down. She leaned heavily against him, pretending to be ill. “Fornay,” he told the knight. “You and the rest of the men go on ahead.”
“Milord? What of you and the lady?”
“We will resume the journey as soon as Edeva feels better. Milady requires a moment of privacy. I will stand guard for her.”
“Of course.” Alan motioned to the other men to follow him. The troop set off at a sedate pace.
Edeva started to giggle as soon as they were out of earshot. “Will we be able to catch up with them?”
Jobert gave her a dazzling grin. “That, Lady Edeva, depends upon how quick we are at our endeavor.” He moved nearer. Edeva felt her breath catch as she gazed into his lust-filled eyes.
* * *
Hours later, Edeva walked around the bedchamber, lighting candles. She wanted everything to be perfect for their first night home at Oxbury. The wooden tub was filled to the brim with steaming, herb-scented water. The small table held goblets of wine and some honey cinnamon cakes she had coaxed Beornflaed into making. Candles illuminated the bright wall hangings and cast a soft glow over the rest of the room’s furnishings, and the two braziers near the tub helped make up for the draft of winter wind blowing through the burned place in the wall.
Satisfied, Edeva sat down on the bed and began to undo her braids. Her hands trembled with anticipation. Soon, Jobert would be there, and they would enjoy hours of blissful lovemaking. It seemed like a dream that she was married to him—married to the proud Norman knight she had once considered her deadliest enemy. Now he was as dear to her as her own life.
She thought back to the terrible hours when she believed him dead. The only thing that had kept her going was the thought she must bear his child and avenge his death. To accomplish those solemn duties, she had been willing to do almost anything, even bind herself in marriage to a man she scarcely trusted.
But to find that Jobert was alive and safe—the memory of the relief and happiness she had felt near took her breath away. He was her heart, her soul.
As if her thoughts had summoned him, the door opened and Jobert strode in. He looked at her, smiling his wide, bewitching grin. “Ah, my Saxon maiden,” he said.
“Not maiden, wife,” she corrected him.
“A wife I have not properly bedded.”
“That is, not in a proper bed,” she murmured.
At the shared memory of their recent woodland tryst, the mood in the room turned intensely erotic. Jobert gestured to the steaming tub. “Mayhaps bathing could wait.”
“’Twould be a shame to waste such lovely hot water.”
He nodded. “In truth, it would.” He began to remove his clothes. Edeva’s breathing quickened as he pulled off his tunic and exposed his broad, muscular chest and beautiful shoulders. Her mouth went dry as he lowered his chausses and revealed his engorged, ruddy shaft. The memory of the first time she saw him naked flooded her mind. Even then, she had desired this man, this proud, formidable warrior.
Jobert grinned at her, then leaned down to unlace his crossgarters so he could take off his hose. “Now you,” he said when he was fully unclothed.
Edeva gathered up her skirts and pulled the loose gown over her head. She’d worn nothing underneath.
“Blessed Jesu,” Jobert breathed. He approached her and reached out to caress her breasts. “I’d forgotten how exquisite you are.”
“More beautiful than the women in London?” she teased. “Fairer than the Norman ladies in Caen?”
His answer was a kiss, long and deep. Then he drew away, his eyes glowing like emeralds. “Get into the tub,” he rasped, “lest we waste the water.”
“You mean to bathe me?”
“Among other things.”
Edeva climbed into the tub, feeling the steaming water heat her already blazing skin. “’Tis almost too hot,” she murmured, “but it feels good.” Jobert leaned over her and began to rub soap on her neck, then her shoulders and arms. His strong, callused fingers felt wonderful against her sensitive flesh. Her nipples thrust out, throbbing, aching. She thought of them filled with milk, for his babe.
She had not told him yet. The few private moments between them since the wedding had been taken up with kisses and caresses. She meant to give him the news after their lovemaking, to tell him he was to be a father by the end of next summer.
His hands dipped lower, to lather her breasts. Edeva leaned back and breathed deeply, feeling the hard ache of desire fill her. She did not know how long she could wait. Already she was near mindless with arousal and she had not even touched him yet.
“Stand up.”
Her legs felt unsteady beneath her as she stood in the tub. He knelt on the drying cloths on the floor and began to soap her lower body. He lathered her abdomen, dipped his fingers near her crotch, but not quite touching, then moved his hand in smooth strokes down her buttocks and legs.
At last his provoking fingers traced the line of her inner thigh, up, up...
She parted her legs, helpless to deny the longing to have him explore the throbbing tender core of her. Lavishly, he soaped her maiden’s hair, yet he did not part the folds of her swollen womanhood and offer her the soothing release she longed for.
Her whole body was afire as he stood up beside her, his eyes raking her body. “I’ll rinse you now.”
She suppressed a groan.
The much cooler water from the rinsing buckets poured over her, easing the worst of her sexual tension. Edeva took a deep breath, reminding herself that she was the one who had suggested the hot bathwater not be wasted.
She stepped out of the tub and into the warm drying cloth Jobert held. He drew her close a moment and kissed her. Wet and hungry, their mouths mated. Tongues probing, licking, lips nibbling and melding.
He released her and took a deep breath. “Mayhaps I could wait to bathe.”
“Nay, nay, ’twould be a waste.” The urgency of her passion had slackened, and now she was determined he would suffer the torture he had inflicted on her. “Get in the tub,” she ordered, “ere the water cools too much.”
He did so, and Edeva began her own tantalizing ministrations.
Soaping those broad shoulders, deliciously hard and smooth beneath her fingers. The sleek planes of his chest, with the soap making whorls in the coarse, reddish hair, under his arms and down their long, battle-scarred length. Then, exploring his belly, tracing the arrow of hair to within inches of his rigid shaft, which thrust upward in the eddies of soapy water.
Then she abandoned that tantalizing endeavor and turned her attention to his broad back. Massaging, rubbing, oh, so slowly smoothing the soap over his warm, firm skin.
She heard him half-groan, then his hand came up and grabbed hers. “Have pity, Edeva.”
He stood and turned toward her. “Touch me,” he whispered. “You know where.”
“Cruel wench,” he murmured. “Cruel, cruel.”
But he turned so she could do his backside. Edeva stood, and from behind him, brought her sudsy fingers around to enclose his shaft. She soaped him there with gentle, teasing strokes. He grew harder as she fondled him. When she cupped his testicles in her hand, he expelled a moan. “Rinse me, woman! I’ve had enough of your hellish torment!”
Giggling, Edeva drenched him with water from the buckets.
They stared at each other, water everywhere, beading on Jobert’s rosy skin and glinting in the firelight. The yearning inside Edeva swelled and deepened. Now they would be joined. His hard shaft filling her womanhood, soothing the ache and yet provoking her to even greater longing. Longing for that moment of completion when their bodies moved as one and they left the earthly realm for a more magical, splendid one.
“Lay on the bed,” he said.
The linen bedclothes felt cool and smooth against her damp skin. The sweet and wild scent of lavender and mint from the herbs she scattered among the covers rose to her nostrils. Jobert climbed on the bed and leaned over her. Edeva spread her thighs and smiled up at him.
“You think I will ease your misery?” he said. “Nay, I have other plans. A beautiful banquet you make, and I will feast.” His mouth came down on her trembling, still-damp skin as he kissed her neck and shoulders. Edeva arched her body, begging. Only slowly did he lick the swell of her breast and then bring his lips to suck one turgid nipple. She shuddered, helplessly caught in the net of sexual energy he wove around her. Her body writhed and she moaned and gasped.
He tasted the other aching point, drawing it into his mouth until she cried out.
“Your breasts seem fuller,” he said after a few moments of exquisite suckling. “Your nipples, a deeper pink.”