Betrayal (Book 2: Time Enough to Love) (5 page)

BOOK: Betrayal (Book 2: Time Enough to Love)
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Before she could voice an objection, he sat back and hurried on, forestalling any protest. “I have conferred with the king today, and he has granted my petition to marry you. He will send to your father, offering my suit in lieu of the one he broke.”

Outrage bubbled within her, making her mouth purse as she worked up to an eruption of invective. He had contrived the whole thing before ever asking her. What good were his pretty word and sentiments if it was already a
fait accompli
?

Thomas looked steadily into her eyes, mayhap anticipating her response. “’Tis not required that you agree, however. I told His Majesty I would not wed you against your wishes. Therefore, I await your answer.”

Somewhat mollified, Alyse stared into his expectant face, reason warring with the ache in her heart. She frowned as a thought occurred. “If you do not force me to your bed, Thomas, how will we live together if not as man and wife? How is that to be arranged?”

He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “Until you agree to share my bed, my lady, we will live as brother and sister, in mutual regard and affection only. Or, if after some years, we are not content together, the marriage can be annulled, having never been consummated.”

He cupped her face in his hand and looked deeply into her eyes. “I have hope, my sweet, that such will not come to pass. As time heals the wounds of the flesh, so too will it heal the wounds of the spirit. Day by day, I pray your hurt will lessen, until you can come to esteem me as your true husband. It need not be what there was between you and Geoffrey, but something of our own.”

More tears appeared at the warmth and compassion in his voice. Despite the foreboding in her heart, this way likely held less pain than any other. Trembling, she took his hand from her face and kissed its palm.

“Aye, then, Thomas, I will marry you.” She managed to speak without a single tremor in her voice. “And I will pray to God every day to let my regard for you ripen into the deeper feelings a wife should accord a husband. You honor me greatly with your unselfish offer of your hand and protection. I would honor you as well with my trust and devotion.”

“My lady.” He grasped her hands and raised them to his lips, bestowing soft, sensual kisses on each finger. “Today you have made me a happy man. I promise to make you a happy woman ere long.”

Despite her trepidation at his caresses, the sensation of his warm lips and hot breath on her skin soothed her sore spirits.

She had agreed to be his wife. It was right to accept his attentions.

There was no instant bolt of the brilliant heat that had thrilled her at Geoffrey’s touch, but the softness of his lips, moving to her upturned palm, sent a little shiver up her arm.

He continued to caress her, tracing the curve of her elbow with silky lips. She closed her eyes, willing herself to submit to this bombardment of her senses. Best to feel rather than think. Thinking could do naught but lead to disaster.

When Thomas reached her shoulder, he lifted his head to speak gently in her ear, his voice low and alluring. “Sweet Alyse, shall we seal our betrothal with a kiss?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and gave a bare nod. The tender caresses and his beguiling tone were attentions she could cope with. A kiss, however...

He moved his hands behind her head, cupping the thick locks of hair, pulling her face toward his. She trembled as his warm lips met hers, but forced herself to stillness. ’Twas only a kiss, after all.

Thomas brushed his lips against hers, a sweet sensation that eased her fears.

He would not expect more than she could give.

She relaxed further. Then he pressed against her and flicked his tongue over her closed mouth. Startled at this audacity, Alyse drew a breath and opened her lips. He pressed his advantage at the invitation, sliding his tongue boldly into her mouth.

As if a cup of cold water had been dashed on her face, the initial pleasure of his caresses fled. She pushed away from him, wiping her hand over her mouth. He must have expected such a reaction, for he withdrew from her without protest. He placed a brief kiss on her cheek and moved his hands to clasp hers.

She breathed deeply in relief then remembered his earlier words. She arched her eyebrows. “Is this how you kiss your sister then?”

His mouth dropped open but, after a stunned moment, his laughter rang out. It was so catching, Alyse had no choice but to join in. At last, Thomas wiped his eyes and settled his gaze on her. A flicker of admiration lurked there.

“Nay, Alyse. Had I a sister, I would not kiss her in such a manner.” He chuckled then grinned at her. “However, as we do not yet live as brother and sister, I believed an un-brotherly kiss would be acceptable.”

Alyse paused, wavering, then shook her head. “My lord, I pray you test me not in this manner. Give me leave a while to act with only sisterly affection.”

With a sigh, Thomas good-naturedly kissed her hand. “Aye, gentle Alyse. I will bide my time.” He sent her a quick, devilish grin. “For now.”

 

Chapter 5

 

Their wedding ceremony took place in front of the doors of the Cathedral of St. Paul in London three days later. The king had spoken a word to the Bishop of London, there being no time to read the banns. The bishop therefore dutifully agreed to preside over the nuptial mass following the vows. Princess Joanna, her brother Prince John, and Lady Maurya served as witnesses.

Alyse wrung her hands, her stomach churning, but managed to say, “I take thee, Thomas, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold…” She spoke the words, staring down at her hand clasped in Thomas’s. Feeling as though she had shattered one vow by taking another.

After the solemnities, Princess Joanna chattered to those assembled, acclaiming herself matchmaker to the couple.

“I know it is unusual for me to stand witness to the marriage, but I needed to see my handiwork accomplished.” She laughed, her gaze darting between Alyse and Thomas.

“Your handiwork, Highness?” Alyse cocked her head and shot an inquiring look at her bridegroom.

That gallant sent a mischievous glance toward the princess then turned to his bride. “Princess Joanna made sure I had good opportunity to serve you in your darkest hour, my lady. ’Twas then, mayhap, the seeds of our match were sown.” Thomas bowed to them before moving to mount his horse for the ride back to Windsor and the feasting that would last late into the night.

As the carriage rolled through the streets of London, Alyse stared out the window, heartsick at the thought of the humiliating ritual to come. She had been appalled when Anne and Maurya explained it to her that morning.

“We shall make sure you are bedded proper, Alyse.” Anne’s words, spoken with her usual smirk, had confused Alyse as she donned her scarlet silk gown in preparation for the wedding.

“Whatever are you talking about, Anne?” Alyse shifted from one foot to the other, wanting to leave and have done with the commotion of this marriage.

“You have never bedded a bride?” Maurya sounded surprised as she put the finishing touches on Alyse’s hair. “Were there no weddings at Castle Merwyck the whole time you were there?”

“Nay. Not when I was old enough to notice. I believe Lady Elizabeth’s sister married shortly after I arrived. But I was only seven and not allowed to participate.” Alyse’s voice caught. “My wedding to Phillip would have been the first I attended.”

“Well, then you may find the custom upsetting—”

Anne snorted with laughter.

“Go on with you, Anne.” Maurya pushed the girl toward the doorway and took Alyse’s arm. “’Tis always done after the feasting.” She steered Alyse into the corridor. “You see, the women of your family—”

“But I have no family here, Maurya.”

“’Tis true, but Lady Anne and I will attend you. We will bring you to the bridal chamber and…”

Recalling Maurya’s description of what would happen in a few short hours brought Alyse abruptly to herself. They were nearing Windsor. The ordeal had scarce begun.

* * * *

“Time to bed the bride!”

“Time for bedding!”

At the dreaded words, Alyse sent a stricken look to her bridegroom seated next to her on the dais. Why had he not prepared her for this embarrassing ritual?

Thomas squeezed her hand as he rose and pulled her to her feet. “’Twill be all right, my sweet. Go with Maurya, and I will attend you shortly.” His eyes sparkled with scarce-controlled glee as he handed her over to Anne and Maurya.

They grabbed her hands, giggling as they pulled her down the center of the Great Hall. Some courtiers cheered, others offered ribald remarks, and still others chuckled as the two women herded her out of the hall and toward the bridal chamber.

She gave thanks they would not spend their wedding night, or any night, in Thomas’s old apartment. These rooms would be their temporary quarters until they departed for
Spain in just two weeks.
Two weeks
. Her mind whirled with the enormity of the coming voyage, her marriage…and this night.

Would Thomas keep his vow? Would he be allowed to? From what Maurya had insinuated—and Anne bluntly stated—she and Thomas would not be left alone in their chamber. Not until their marriage had been consummated.

How could he not have told her this?

They arrived at the new apartment on the far west wing of
Windsor Castle to find several of Princess Isabella’s attendants standing outside the door.

“The princess has given us leave to attend you, Lady Alyse.” Lady Catherine Mandeville smiled and gestured to Lady Margaret Destries and Lady Carlyle. The latter woman wore a sullen look and cut her eyes at Alyse, her brows deeply furrowed. Such a display of malice made Alyse stop and stare, confused by the attendant’s unabashed ill will.

Anne gave Alyse a little push, propelling her into the chamber. The room was smaller than the one she had shared with Anne, though the furnishings were much grander. The table, set near the fireplace, had the sheen of warm oak, with chairs lavishly carved. Vases of roses adorned the table, filling the room with their sweet scent. Roses. She shook her head, trying to dispel the memory.

Her chest had been brought in and set near the end of the bed. The walls were hung with sumptuous tapestries—hunting scenes for the most part, though one wall boasted a rendering of the Knights of the Round Table.

Alyse’s heart caught in her throat, but she was given no time to grieve as the ladies crowded into the room, forcing her toward the final piece of furniture: the massive mahogany four-poster bed. The mattress had to be four feet from the ground, making the stepstool strategically placed at the end of the bed a necessity. The red damask curtains were drawn back, revealing a gold coverlet, turned down, and white sheets strewn with red rose petals. A nuptial chamber fit for the queen.

Before Alyse could take it all in, the women, led by Maurya, began to unfasten her clothing.

Now it comes
.

Helpless, Alyse could only stand and allow them to strip her, layer by layer. Anne unlaced her gown, Lady Margaret removed her jewelry, Lady Catherine slipped her shoes off, and Lady Carlyle coaxed her arms out of her surcote and cote. That lady still conveyed her thinly-veiled contempt through hard looks and narrowed eyes, making Alyse wish the woman had not waited upon her. She had enough to endure without the addition of a disagreeable attendant.

Maurya had unpinned her crepine and let down her hair. As Alyse stood, now in nothing but her shift, Maurya brushed the long black tresses, arranging them over her shoulder to fall on either side of her breasts.

“You shall have to do that all over again, Maurya.” Anne folded her gown and placed it in her chest. “Once we take her shift off.”

Heat flared in Alyse’s face—not only in her cheeks, but her nose and forehead seemed on fire as well. To be stripped naked before these ladies of the court, and in front of Thomas as well, would shame her unmercifully. The reasoning, she had been told, was to ensure that she and Thomas had hidden nothing from one another, so that no other person would end up in the marriage bed.

Could they think of no better way to assure that?

A knock sounded on the door.

Anne grabbed the end of Alyse’s shift and tried to pull it over her head.

“Nay!” Alyse seized the garment and snatched it out of Anne’s hands.

“Alyse!” Anne clutched at the fabric, trying to grasp it. “We must remove your shift before your bridegroom sees you!”

“You will not!” Alyse wrapped her arms around herself, pinning her shift to her body.

“But—”

“I have said!” She flung Anne away, drew herself up and nodded to Lady Catherine. “Allow my lord entry.”

Wide-eyed, the woman tugged the door open, revealing Princess Joanna, a look of astonishment on her face. “Ladies! What is going on here?”

All the wome
n curtsied, including Alyse, who still clutched her shift around her.

“She refuses to allow the bedding to proceed, Highness.” Anne pointed at Alyse and tossed her head. “I have no idea but that Lord Braeton will think she has something to hide.”

Joanna came forward to stand beside Alyse. “Oh, I think his lordship will find his bride has nothing to conceal from him, whether she reveals everything at once or a little at a time.” She smiled at Alyse and handed her a parcel wrapped in white silk. “Mayhap you would wear this for your bridegroom tonight? ’Tis not quite the custom, yet I believe Lord Braeton will much appreciate the garment.”

“My great thanks, Your Highness.” Alyse took the package with trembling fingers. Swiftly she unwrapped it and gasped in wonder. The delicate blue silk shift she drew forth was exquisite, soft as a whisper and embellished at collar and cuffs with tiny seed pearls. And all but transparent. When she held it before her face, she could see the ladies in the room quite clearly. As everyone would be able to see her as well. Still, any type of covering was preferable to none.

“It is beyond beautiful, Highness. I shall treasure it always and,” Alyse drew in a deep breath, “I will be overjoyed to wear it for my lord tonight.”

Joanna clapped her hands and laughed. “Then you must make haste to don it. Your bridegroom follows not far behind me.”

With the sigh of a martyr at the stake, Alyse nodded, and Anne leaped forth and stripped the linen shift from her. Her cheeks heated as she caught the frank stares of the other ladies. She fought the impulse to shield her breasts and womanhood; apparently, brides were expected to be appraised as if a horse at market. The only stare that sent a shiver up her back, however, was Lady Carlyle’s. The woman’s lips twisted into a sneer as her gaze swept Alyse from head to toe. A look of triumph she did not understand lit the lady’s face, and Alyse turned her back, quite willing to allow Anne to drop the silk chemise over her head.

When she turned back to the company, loud “ah
”s and whispers of “indecent” ran through the women. Alyse looked down at herself. As she feared, the sheer material revealed every swell of her breasts. As the fabric moved across them, her nipples hardened, poking the garment out to sharp points. And Thomas would soon see her thus. Her whole body flushed at the thought.

Maurya stepped behind her and began to brush her hair again. “Pay them no mind, Alyse,” she whispered. “You are more beautiful than any of them. And I warrant Lord Braeton will have no qualms about you whatsoever in that shift.” Maurya glanced toward the door as a hum of voices grew louder outside.

Before Alyse could reply, the door burst open and the laughing, swearing, drinking chorus of male courtiers who attended Thomas strode in. And stopped. The sudden silence heightened the taut emotions in the small room. Everyone’s eyes rested on Alyse, who stared back at them and prayed she would not faint again.

As suddenly as the silence descended it broke, and a babble of laughter, praise, and ribald jests issued forth from the appreciative gentlemen. To her utter humiliation, Alyse recognized Patrick Sullivan, Roger Delaney, and Robert Spencer among the courtiers. All stared at her still, Patrick leaning over to comment to Sir Roger, who laughed and nodded in agreement.

What must they be thinking? Oh, how could Patrick do such a thing!

She blinked back tears of rage, but stood quietly lest they make even more sport of her.

From the corner of her eye, she caught movement in the doorway, and several men and ladies moved to make way for the final actor in this terrible play. Thomas strode grandly into the chamber, smiling as though he walked in a decorous procession. Attired in a splendid robe of green wool, adorned with velvet down the center edges and fur at collar and cuffs, he swept her a low bow. He laughed as he arose, but the sound died on his lips when at last he registered her figure in the blue chemise. The stunned look in his eyes was swiftly replaced by a hot hunger that made her gasp. Any hope she had of him honoring his promise died with that look.

“Lady Braeton.” He held out his hand, and Alyse had no choice but to take it. He raised it to his lips, searing her flesh with their warm touch. “You are a vision I scarce would credit this side of heaven.”

She peered into his darkened eyes, seeking mercy. At his almost imperceptible nod, she could breathe again.

He released her and stepped back. “The wedding is done.” Thomas nodded to his attendants, who stepped forward. “Let the bedding be done as well.” Stretching forth his arms, he waited as the men stripped the robe from him, revealing his perfectly nude body beneath.

A brisk hum echoed around the room as the whispered comments of the ladies merged with the bawdy japes of the gentlemen. Thomas stood unflinching, a slight smile still on his lips.

Alyse’s mouth dropped open, and her gaze raced over his form as she tried to look everywhere and nowhere at once. His shoulders, smooth and broad, showed strength from wielding his sword these many years. The arms that had held her were now bare and sculpted like a statue’s. Her gaze slipped lower, to his chest matted thickly with pale hair over well-defined muscles. She tried to stop there, to force her eyes back to his face. But she had seen his cock, jutting boldly from a golden bush. Heat rushed to her cheeks. She could no longer deny that their bedding tonight would completely consummate their marriage. Whether she agreed or not. How else would the witnesses be satisfied?

BOOK: Betrayal (Book 2: Time Enough to Love)
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