Catherine Coulter (22 page)

Gilpin shouted, “My lord! My lord, oh no, someone is hurting you! Someone climbed over me to get to you, to slay you, and it is all my fault. Oh mighty Saint Albertine, blessed saint of all limping beggars, I deserve to drink the poison the heretics forced down your gullet before they broke your legs and burned you to ashes!” Gilpin banged on the door, sent his shoulder and his foot into it, but that door was thicker than he was, the stout bar could keep out a dozen men, and there was no way he would get through it.

Merry heard the mad knocking and slamming against the door, but it wasn’t important. What was important was that she was no longer a maid. It was done, it had to be since she felt wet inside, and she knew it was his man’s seed. She looked down at him, still inside her. He was lying motionless as a dead man, his eyes closed, his hands palms up at his sides. In the dim candlelight, she saw he was smiling, and he was asleep.

Asleep! How could the lout fall asleep?

The pain was less than it had been, and that was a relief. She leaned over him, her hand cupping his cheek. “Garron, I know I am no longer a maid. I mean, how could I be since you are so deep inside me? Come, you must wake up, you must realize what has happened.”

Gilpin yelled, “I will fetch Aleric! We will save you, my lord!”

Garron’s eyes flew open. He was firmly back on the earth. He grabbed her about the waist, yelling as he rolled over on top of her, “Gilpin, do not get Aleric! Do you understand me? It was a nightmare, nothing more than a nightmare.
Do not get Aleric!
I am all right. Go back to sleep!”

“How can I sleep, my lord? I heard you yelling. Is there an enemy in there with a knife to your gullet?”

“There is no enemy, no knife. Go back to sleep or I will twist your tongue around your neck and choke you with it!”

A
fter a moment of blessed silence, Garron looked down at her pale face. “So, you have brought me low,” and he pushed. She hadn’t realized he was still inside her. She tried to pull away from him, but she couldn’t. Her body wanted him as far away from her as it could get. “It’s done, Garron. There is no reason for you to do more to me. You can stop now, please.”

He stilled over her. “Why should I?”

“It hurts.”

He frowned, and pulled back, just a bit, but stayed inside her. He balanced himself on his elbows above her. He wanted her again, but now his brain was back in his head and he could at last reason. “So,” he said again, “I cannot believe you came into my bedchamber and impaled yourself on me.”

“You thought I was Blanche.”

“I should have known. Even asleep I should have known it wasn’t Blanche. Her breasts are more bountiful than both a man’s hands together. And Blanche always knew exactly what to do.”

She smacked her fist against his shoulder. “Stop thinking about that cow.”

He grinned down at her, moved just a bit deeper, stilled again when she stiffened. “Hold still. You do not even know Blanche. She was clever, was Blanche, and she loved to awaken me in the middle of the night.”

“How?”

“Sometimes she’d have her breasts pressed against my face.”

“Didn’t her bountiful breasts smother you?”

“Aye,” and he once again fell silent and she knew, simply knew he was thinking about his face buried in the cow’s breasts.

She smacked his shoulder again. “Well, you cannot wed this Blanche, you cannot ever have her breasts in your face again. You must wed me, Garron.”

He was inside her, just barely now, but lust was rising again. At her stark words, the enormity of the situation burst clear as a crystal into his brain.
Marry her?
He’d taken her maidenhead, he’d spilled his seed inside her. She was no longer pure.

By all St. Clementine’s rosary beads, would the king have him drawn and quartered? Would he lock him in the dungeon away from the light and leave him to starve?

Bright clean fury flashed in his brain. He didn’t deserve this. He was panting with rage and lust when he pulled out of her, and came up on his knees between her legs. He waved his fist in her face. “I cannot believe you planned this, that you actually came into my chamber and forced me to take you.”

“Forced you? Ha!”

“Be quiet! You foolish girl, I cannot believe you actually did this.”

“I told you I did not want to be forced to wed with some man I do not know.”

“It is not your right to decide your future. Are you so ignorant you do not understand that? Your father would have selected your husband. But now it is only right that the king act in his stead. I cannot believe you are so willful or so stupid.”

His outrage finally broke through and she burst into tears.

He was appalled, but only for an instant because his anger was riding him hard. He waved his fist in her face. “What are you doing? Crying? How dare you? Stop those infernal tears now!”

The tears dried up. She gulped. “All right, but it is difficult to stop once I get started. What is it you wish to do now, my lord?”

“You can cry whenever you wish to?”

“One of the ladies at court taught me, but I must think sad thoughts. I thought about what the Black Demon had done to Wareham and that was enough.”

“What was her name?”

“Alice of Kent.”

Not Alice, anyone but Alice. Was he cursed?
“Did she teach you anything else?”

“No. She even believed I was so backward that gushing out tears when I wished was beyond me. It took me a while, but I finally proved her wrong.”

How had she gotten him off his logical path?

“I would like to beat you, but I suppose that since you are an heiress, since you will soon be the king’s ward, I am to be denied the pleasure.”

“I cannot be the king’s ward. He does not want a girl who is no longer a virgin. I know well that virginity is prized above all else. Well, except for silver and land.”

“That was your fault entirely. I had nothing to do with it. I was scarcely here.”

“Ha! You moaned so loudly I was nearly deafened. Then you yelled—it even woke up Gilpin. I don’t hear him. Do you think he is asleep again?”

“He had better be. You be quiet.”

“I do not believe you suffered any pain, not like the agony you forced upon me.”

“Agony? You are ignorant as that dead pear tree in the orchard. I cannot believe you did this to me.”

“Why? It appears I am simply one amongst many women who have awakened you in the middle of the night, their hands and mouths all over you.”

“And their breasts. But that was different and you well know it. You are an idiot, Merry.”

She hit his shoulder, felt the scar. “I am not an idiot. I am simply determined not to be given over to some man I do not know. What happened to you?”

“You were Blanche, a female I know well, and you kissed me until my lust overcame my reason.”

“There was no reason involved. You did not hesitate a single minute to think. No, what happened to your shoulder? That scar is quite deep. It could have killed you. What happened?”

Surely this is passing strange
, he thought, and looked down at her mouth he’d kissed too many times, and wanted to kiss again. He said absently, “A Scottish madman tried to kill the king. It was my job to protect him, and so I did.”

“What happened to the Scot?”

“He is rotting in Hollow’s Field. It is where assassins are buried.”

She touched the scar again. “It must have pained you greatly.”

He shrugged, though in truth, he’d thought he would die, what with the fever that had nearly consumed him to ashes.

And now this. He had taken a maid, and not just any maid, he’d taken the Valcourt heiress. Surely a remarkable experience, but he knew there was no pot of silver waiting for him. He sighed. “You did not consider the consequences of this, Merry, you did not realize that I will pay for it?”

“No, no, you will not pay anything. I will explain everything to the king. I will tell him that you are so very honorable that I had to force you. I will tell him I want you, Garron, I admire you, not some faceless lout he would give me to. He will see that we will deal well together. I will tell him that you make lists just as the queen does, just as I do, and he will realize that you will manage Valcourt as well as my father. And he does know you and admire you already, Garron. He will understand why I want to marry you, not some stranger who could be as bad as Jason of Brennan. The king will understand.”

He was still between her legs, his hands on his thighs. She stretched out her hand and laid it atop his. “My father’s book of rules—I will give it to you, and you can memorize each one, mayhap add some of your own. I know you can keep Valcourt prosperous. The king will be pleased. He will praise you. You will become so rich you can give him money and soldiers and you will become as close to him as the queen.”

Garron grabbed both her hands, jerked them over her head, and came down to within an inch of her nose. “Listen to me. You do not know the world, nor do you know the king. He will have me beheaded.”

She knew he believed utterly what he said. “You are saying he would have beheaded Jason of Brennan if he’d managed to force me to wed him?”

He was pressing against her again, and quickly pulled back. He stared down at her flesh, and wanted to touch her again with his fingers, with his mouth. He wanted to weep. His brain stalled and he guided himself inside her.

She yelped and jerked back, struck her head against the wall, and yelped again. He didn’t move, remained still. “Get used to me,” he said, and realized when a man was inside a woman, his brain ceased to work. “If I am to die for taking your maidenhead, then I might as well enjoy you again. A man can only die once.”

She was panting, pressing her palms against his shoulders, trying to pull away from him. “It doesn’t hurt as much as before, but I do not like it, Garron. I want you to go away, but not too far away so that we would have to shout at each other. No, truly, we must talk. I will not allow the king to hurt you, I swear it. I am a great talker, I will make a list of all important points so I will not forget any, and I will present them to the king and he will welcome you as my husband.”

It didn’t matter that he was panting, that his eyes were nearly crossed in lust. At her words, his brain took him by the throat and shook him hard. He jerked out of her and rolled off the bed. He stood panting over her.

Merry jerked the blanket to her neck. He continued to stand over her, naked, hard, his hands fists at his sides, and stare down at her.

“I would not have forced you if I believed the king would kill you, Garron.”

“Don’t lie—you did not even think of the king when you planned this. And you did not force me. You merely surprised me. A man can’t be forced.”

She said thoughtfully, never looking at him above his waist, “Do you know, it is almost worth marrying Jason of Brennan if you swear the king would behead him. I should demand to see it done immediately, before he could do to me what you did. It was bad enough with you and I like you, but the thought of Jason of Brennan—” She shuddered. “I will save you from the king. I will think of something. That part of you is still big, Garron.”

He looked down at himself and saw her blood. He had never before bedded a virgin, but he knew virgins bled and sometimes it wasn’t good. He grabbed the blanket and pulled it off her. Blood was smeared on her thighs. “Do not move,” he said, and fetched a wet cloth.

She grabbed the blanket to cover herself again, and came up fast, swinging her legs off the bed. “What are you going to do?”

“Bathe the blood off you. I told you to hold still.” He grabbed the blanket off her and pushed her down onto her back. “For once, just be quiet.” And she was so shocked when the cool wet cloth pressed against her that she couldn’t have spoken if the Black Demon burst into the chamber. She squeaked.

He touched her with his fingers, and nodded. “The bleeding has stopped. That will not happen again. It is your maid’s blood.” He wiped himself off with the cloth, threw it on the floor, and came down beside her. She tried to sit up. He pressed her down again. “No, hold yourself still. I must think about what I should do.”

“You are not a bad man, Garron. Indeed, not only are you not a bad man, you are noble, you have wealth and land. You are an earl. Surely the king would see you as an excellent husband for any heiress.”

He ignored her, and she simply saw him making a list in his mind. “First, I must see the king. If I tell him I slept through a female impaling herself on me, even though I believed it the lusty Blanche, he might understand, but he will laugh at me, he will call me a fool, he will clout me, and I will have to take it.”

“No, seeing the king is second on the list. First you must wed with me, then both of us will visit the king. The queen—”

He spoke over her, his brain moving straight and forward. “I must kill Jason of Brennan. That will give me great pleasure since he very likely was responsible for poisoning Arthur. Then I must deal with your mother.” He cursed again, and Merry heard more animal body parts than she’d known existed.

He said, “Do you know, it makes no sense that no one would know that Arthur had stolen such a vast amount of silver coins from Jason of Brennan. Or more likely Arthur stole the coins from Jason’s father, Lord Ranulf.”

“Well, Jason knew.”

He leaned down and squeezed his hands around her neck. “I would strangle you but I doubt I would survive it. On the other hand, I doubt I will survive the king’s punishment either, so why not?”

“You are an earl, no longer the king’s guard. It will be all right.” And she leaned up and kissed him.

He started cursing again. Merry couldn’t help herself—she laughed.

Gilpin called out, “I hear you talking, my lord. I hear ire in your voice. Who is there with you? Is it an enemy who has sliced upon your gullet and is watching you die?”