A Love for All Time (15 page)

Aidan heaped her husband’s plate high with quail, and a thick slab of beef, a piece of rabbit pie, a spoonful of tiny white onions that had been braised in milk and butter and were topped with ground peppercorns, and a second spoonful of carrots. In a separate dish she served him a generous helping of mussels that had been steamed in white wine, and topped with a Dijon mustard sauce. “What will ye have to drink, my lord?”

“Ale.”

She poured him a gobletful, and then setting his supper upon the table she offered him his napkin. Sitting opposite her he could see that her plate was as full as his, and neither of them spoke as they ate hungrily. She tore off a piece of bread from the round cottage loaf, and handed it to him, then took a piece herself and sopped up the juices on her plate with it. She drank white wine, perhaps a bit too much, he thought as she refilled her goblet a third time during their meal.

Finally she sat back, a satisfied look of contentment upon her face, and said, “I can eat no more!”

“There’s a gooseberry tart on the sideboard,” he said.

She looked regretful, but shook her head. “I couldn’t. Not now. I am tired for I was up early this morning, and did not sleep a great deal last night. I want to go to bed now.”

“Go, and prepare yerself then, madame,” he said. “Let me help ye with yer gown.” He turned her about, and undid her dress for her.

Aidan never even looked back at him. She walked to the bedchamber, and entering the room closed the door behind her. There was a key in the lock. She turned it softly. He was not coming into this room tonight. She had made that decision two nights ago when they had met formally for the first time. Her own mother had come from Ireland to wed and bed a stranger, but that had been different. Bevin had been raised to expect such a thing. She had not. She had always assumed that when the time came for her to marry she would know her betrothed husband.

Ye picked him, the small voice in her head said. Why did ye pick him if ye didn’t want him? “I do want him!” she whispered, “but not until we know one another better. I will not be like all the other jades he has known.”

Removing her gown she spread it carefully over a chair, adding her petticoats, chemise, and stockings to the pile. Mag had laid a white silk nightgown upon the bed, and Aidan slipped it over her head. It had a high neck with pink ribbons which she tied together, and full sleeves that were edged in lace. Methodically Aidan washed her face, and hands, and teeth in the basin of water that had been left to warm on the hearth. Then she brushed her hair, and finally putting on her little lawn nightcap, and tying their matching pink ribbons, she climbed into the comfortable bed opposite the fireplace. She was just dozing off when his voice called through the door, “Aidan, may I come in now?” She tensed, and debated whether or not to answer him. Finally she decided it was better to pretend she was asleep.

He knocked upon the door. “Aidan! Are ye all right? Answer me!” He sounded worried, and she felt guilty.

“I have retired, my lord,” she said faintly.

“I, too, would like to retire, Aidan. Open this door!”

“Ye will sleep in the parlor, my lord.”

“Will I?”
His voice sounded faintly ominous.

“Ye cannot expect me to welcome a stranger into my bed, my lord. I am not some lightskirt like the women ye knew at court!”

“I am hardly a stranger, Aidan. I am yer husband.”

“But I don’t know ye!” she wailed, and then gave a little shriek as the door to the bedchamber was kicked open.

He stood silhouetted in the entryway for a moment, and he looked so big that she was suddenly frightened. “Madame! There will be no locked doors between us,
ever
! Do ye understand me?” He advanced into the room, and he seemed to increase in size as he neared the bed. “Do ye understand me?” he repeated.

“If ye come any nearer,” she shot back at him, “I shall scream the inn down!” She clutched the bedclothes to her breasts, her knuckles white in the firelight that lit the room.

“And having screamed the inn down what will ye tell those who come, Aidan? What is there to be fearful of?”

Her oval face stared up defiantly at him. “I will scream,” she reiterated her threat.

He sat down upon the edge of the bed, and she gasped, but he threatened menacingly, “If ye scream, I shall beat ye!” Startled, her lips clamped shut. “That is better,” he said. “Now listen to me, Aidan,
my wife,
ye do not have to fear me this night, or any other night. I have already realized that yer far more innocent than most girls of sixteen, let alone twenty-three. I have never needed to resort to rape, and because yer legally mine has not changed my thoughts in that direction. I am going to get undressed, and I am getting into this bed, but there will be nothing between us, Aidan, until ye feel yer ready. Do ye understand me?”

She nodded, but then said, “Why must ye sleep in this bed?”

“Because there is no other, and it is damnably cold. When we arrive at
Pearroc Royal
we may have separate bedchambers.”

“There is only one master’s chamber at
Pearroc Royal.
It is not the largest house in the world, my lord.”

“Then we will continue with this arrangement, Aidan, but I will never force ye.” He got up from the bed, and began to undress before the firelight.

She had never seen a man’s body, and half-curious, half-fearful she spied on him through partly closed eyes. He was so big. Clothes frequently added to a man’s girth, but in Conn’s case it was not so. His long slender legs soared into tight buttocks which flared into a slim waist and broadened into a wide back and shoulders. When he turned about to wash in the basin that Cluny had left him, Aidan squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She was not quite ready to know everything! She felt the bed sag with his weight, and immediately she tensed.

“Are ye asleep yet?” he asked in a gentle voice.

“N-nay.”

“Come here to me then,” he said softly, and drew her into the curve of his arm, her head upon his shoulder.

“There! Is that not cozy, Aidan? Will ye give me a kiss good night?”

“If y-ye wish i-it, my lord.” Damn! She felt like such a fool! He was being so reasonable, so thoughtful of her sensibilities. Was this the man whose reputation was that of a lecher, and a rake? Why was he being so kind?

Conn raised himself up on one elbow so he might look down upon her. “Tell me the truth, Aidan. Until Twelfth Night when I took my forfeit in our game of Blind Man’s Bluff, had ye ever been kissed before? Ever played courting games that men and maids are apt to play?”

“Nay,” she said softly.

“Ye’ve never been courted by any man?”

“Nay.”

“Then ye must be courted, sweetheart, for I would not rob ye of that joy which every lass must taste.” He bent, and touched her lips with his own.

Aidan felt a thrill race through her as he touched her, and her mouth softened. She was beginning to understand why so many ladies succumbed to Conn. He was a very persuasive and romantic man.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured against her lips. “Let me love ye just a little. I’ll not hurt ye.”

His kisses trailed down her throat, and around to a spot beneath her ear that was incredibly sensitive. She actually quivered when his mouth buried itself there. “Ohhh!” She blushed at having revealed herself so, but it seemed to please him. His fingers slid into the tangle of her hair to cup her head, and he kissed her ear, murmuring soft sounds into it as he did so. She could feel her own senses reeling, and she thought, if I knew what he wanted to do I would let him. I want something, but I don’t know what it is I want! Should a wife be so bold? Oh, God, I wish I knew! And yet I don’t want him to believe he has made another easy conquest lest he be quickly bored with me as he has been bored with all the others.

She was sweet! Dear heaven, this delightfully innocent bride of his was so very sweet. It came to him as something of a shock to realize that Aidan was the one woman he had been seeking all his life! He did not understand how he knew this fact, but know it he did. At this very moment his desire to possess her was growing fast. He wanted to make love to this girl he had only met briefly but two days ago. He wanted to tear her prim little nightshift from her body, and bury himself in her softness. The warm sweet scent of her body, faintly perfumed with lavender, taunted him, but it was up to him as the more experienced of the two to treat her with courtesy and gentleness. Whatever transpired between them tonight would set the tone for their whole marriage. He regretted they were such strangers.

“Do ye like being kissed, sweetheart?” he said gently.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, slightly bemused, and for the first time he was able to place their color. Her eyes were gray, a silvery gray with tiny flecks of gold in them that reminded him of bits of leaves in an October pond. Her gaze was shy, but unwavering. “Aye, my lord,” she said in a low tone. “I like yer kisses, but then,” and suddenly the eyes twinkled at him, “I have naught to compare them with so perhaps my judgment is not the very best.”

Conn laughed softly although at the same time he was perhaps a trifle put out. She was certainly honest to a fault. “Since I don’t intend to have ye making comparisons, sweetheart, I am glad that I please ye. Now go to sleep, Aidan, my wife. We must make an early start tomorrow for I do not like the looks of the weather at all, and we have many miles to travel. I suspect a winter storm is brewing, and I can only hope that we reach
Pearroc Royal
before it breaks.”

Aidan smiled up at him, and then turning on her side tried to sleep. Turning against her Conn slipped an arm about her to draw her back against him in spoon fashion. Aidan’s heart skipped a quick beat as he lightly kissed the sensitive back of her neck, but then he settled down, and was soon snoring lightly, his breath coming in little puffs against her nape, and tickling it lightly. Lying there in his embrace she found that she enjoyed this conjugal closeness. It pervaded her entire body like warm honey, relaxing her so that she sighed deeply, and when she did his embrace tightened slightly. With a small smile of happiness upon her lips, she at last fell asleep.

T
o her blushing surprise Aidan found herself awakened by a quick teasing kiss the following morning. Conn was up, and dressed, and it was yet dark outside. A fire already burnt in the room grate to Aidan’s relief for despite the warmth from the fireplace the floors were icy cold.

“Good morrow, sweetheart! Ye look so pretty and peaceful sleeping there that I hated to wake ye, but ’tis past four, and we must be on the road by five at the latest. There’s a small breakfast laid in the parlor, nothing special, just a little oat stirabout, bread, honey, and wine, but ’twill serve, and the innkeeper’s wife is packing up a large basket for the coach.”

His efficiency amazed her. She hadn’t thought about Conn as efficient, but then realized that her only knowledge of him stemmed from her brief contact with him, his nephew’s admiring tales, and the royal court’s gossip, which swirled mistily about her husband,
the Handsomest Man at Court.
Conn was the stuff of which admiring men and women made legends about, but very little of these stories revealed the whole man; a man she was only beginning to see. It was becoming very obvious to her that beneath the elegant, beautiful, and polished courtier there was an extremely capable man.

“Thank ye, my lord. How thoughtful of ye to think of a hot breakfast. I am ravenous!” She slid from the bed, wincing at the cold floor.

They departed the inn shortly before five o’clock of the morning. It was almost two hours before sunrise, but the waning moon slipping in and out of the lowering clouds offered them occasional light along the road. The weather threatened for the next few days, but it wasn’t until the chimneys of
Pearroc Royal
came into view that the snow finally began to fall.

Conn was enchanted by his first view of
Pearroc Royal.
It was a very old gray stone house caught in the tender embrace of dark green ivy that climbed up its four walls. Constructed in the year 1460 by a nobleman who, seeking to gain favor with his king, had raised upon his own lands a small hunting lodge, simple in its design. It was not particularly large, having never been meant to contain more than a few men out for sport. Whether or not its patron had received any largesse from the monarch he gifted was not known by the St. Michaels, but the records showed that royalty had only visited
Pearroc Royal
twice.

The first Lord Bliss had found that although the house was basically sound, it needed a good deal of work to make it habitable for a family. He had rebuilt
Pearroc Royal,
adding great windows and several brick chimneys that soared above the peaked and snow-clad roofs of Cotswold slates. He had left the main floor of the house practically as he found it, but on the upper floor he had done much construction according to Aidan. She told her husband that where there had once been only a Great Chamber, there were now several bedchambers off a central hallway.