Fatal Truths (The Anarchy Medieval Romance) (11 page)

THE FOG CLUNG TO THE MEADOW for a sennight, muffling sounds and rendering it impossible to ascertain the numbers of enemy troops camped on their lands.

T
he future seemed shrouded in uncertainty, but Alex became more and more sure Elayne was his destiny.

He requested her presence in his solar one afternoon, determined to leave there a betrothed man. As he waited he cast his mind back to the day he’d planned to ask her to be his mistress. That had been nerve-wracking. This was torture. If she said no—

But why would she?

She tapped lightly on the open door and he bade her enter. Her smile warmed his heart and hardened his body. “You sent for me, my lord?”

He took her hand. “Please, call me Alex. I am not your lord—”

She cast him a brief glance that gave him hope.

“—though I would like to be.”

She studied the floor, scattering his fledgling hopes like sparrows startled out of their nest by the hawk.

Still holding her hand, he sat in his favorite chair and pulled her onto his lap, forcing her rigid back to mold to his chest. He kissed her neck. She was a widow, a woman who had lain with a man, borne his children. There was no point pretending she was a coy virgin and he an untried youth. He pushed his hips up gently so his arousal pressed into her
derrière
. “Don’t fight me, Elayne. You can feel what you do to me. I’m on fire for you.”

She relaxed a little. “Men are easily aroused by a woman’s body. I understand that. It’s different for us.”

It became even clearer to him then what kind of marriage she’d had, but the aroma of her arousal filled his nostrils. She wanted him. He traced a fingertip over the back of her hand. “Are you not attracted to me?”

She tried to get off his lap, but he held firm. “I will not be like your first husband, Elayne. I will love and cherish you and do everything in my power to make you happy.”

She stared at him. “You’re asking me to marry you?”

He laughed at his own ineptness. “
Oui
, I got ahead of myself. I planned to give you a flowery speech, but I am so anxious to make you my wife, I blurted it out.”

He nuzzled her warm neck. “Please say yes.”

“But what about Henry and Claricia?”

“I will love them as my own children. I already do, you know that.”

“But what will your people think—marrying a Scot?”

“Everyone at Montbryce thinks the world of you and your children. They recognise a good
Comtesse
when they see one. They’ve witnessed your courage.”

He took her hand. “Why are you
hesitating? You know I love you. Will you consent to be my wife,
oui
or
non
?”

~~~

ALEX’S UNMISTAKABLY HARD MALENESS pressed against her bottom sent rivers of longing flowing through her veins. Marriage to a man she loved, a man she craved. It was too good to be true. She trailed her fingertips over the back of his hand—strong, male, so different from her own. How good it would feel to have those fingers touching intimate places that had never known the sweet caress of a lover.

But doubt
insinuated itself into her thoughts. “You’re not asking me to marry you simply because you think it’s the only way to save us from Maud?”

“You know that’s not true. You’re the one who is going to save me—from myself. I need you.”

“But Claricia and Henry will never take their rightful place—”

Her own empty words echoed in her head. How foolish to think King
Dabíd would ever bestow upon her children the recognition they merited. In the Scottish court they would always be bastards, objects of ridicule and gossip. Alexandre would give them love, a place of honor, though they’d never be his heirs. “I am a fool,” she murmured.

He pulled her closer. “A fool because you’re going to say yes?”

Though he jested with her, she heard the edge of doubt in his voice.

She cupped his beloved face in her hands. “I will be your wife, Alexandre de Montbryce, and that makes me a very wise woman.”

He let out a long slow breath, smiled then kissed her lips, coaxing them apart with his tongue. He tasted of the sweet wine he’d imbibed at luncheon and his warm skin smelled clean, wholesome. She ran her fingers through his silky hair, imbued with a sense of peace she hadn’t felt for many a year.

He nibbled her bottom lip, grinning as she teased him with her tongue. “There is only one problem,” he whispered.

A shiver of apprehension skittered up her spine. “Problem?”

“We cannot marry—”

Fear turned her thighs to lead weights as she struggled to get off his lap. He held firm. “Listen. You’re like an angry cat. Let me finish. We cannot marry until Laurent returns.”

She sagged into him, instantly regretting her misunderstanding. “Of course, both brothers must be here, and your sisters.”

He groaned. “But it might be months before we can get everybody to Montbryce safely.”

Wanting Alexandre and not being able to have him would be intolerable, especially in a castle crammed to the rafters with people and animals. Perhaps there was a solution.

“In the Scottish Isles they have an ancient tradition of handfasting. The bride and groom pledge to each other before God as man and wife. Originally, it gave the man the opportunity to determine if the woman suited or not, and if after a year he didn’t think so, he was allowed to end the contract. We could handfast until we can marry.”

He smiled, sending tiny winged creatures fluttering in her womb. “So, if we
handfast, you’re my wife and I can make you mine?”

She nodded, afraid if she spoke she might sob with happiness.

He tapped his chin. “Seems to me my mother told me she and my father did much the same thing shortly after they first met.”

He came to his feet abruptly, and strode towards the door, her hand firmly gripped in his.

“Where are we going?”

“To the chapel.”

~~~

THE MEAGRE LIGHT
in the chapel came from two flickering candles on the altar. Alex and Elayne remained motionless in silence for several minutes, their heads bowed, kneeling on the plush red cushions of the
prie-dieus
.

“I feel I’m in the throes of a mystical experience,” he
whispered. “I’m aware of the gulf between us, but none of that matters at this moment.”

Though his parents had pledged to each other in a chapel far away from the one in which he now knelt, Alex was filled with a satisfying sense of the past repeating itself. He squeezed Elayne’s hand. “Look at me.”

A bolt of desire rocked him as she turned, her green eyes full of love and longing. A faint trace of incense tickled his nostrils. He smiled. “I am yours forever, Elayne. I’ve never known such feelings as I feel for you. I pledge myself to you.”

“Forever, Alexandre
, I’ll be yours forever. I give you my pledge,” she echoed, her voice shaking.

They stared at each other for long minutes. He squeezed her hand again. “
It’s a man’s right to kiss his bride,” he murmured, suddenly feeling shy and uncertain.

He
leaned to kiss her on the lips and her mouth parted. She raised her hand to touch his face and he placed his hand over hers. It was a moment of deep contentment unlike any he had known before as their tongues mated.

They broke apart and h
e helped her rise from the
prie
-
dieu
. “Come to my chamber,” he whispered hoarsely, pressing her hand to his arousal. “I have a wedding gift for you.”

Her lips parted. He lowered his head to swipe his tongue over one of
the nipples pushing against the fabric of her
bliaut
, savoring the sharp intake of breath as she pressed his head to her breast.

But his hopes were dashed when she pulled away, shaking her head. “I want nothing more than to hasten to your chamber, but my children will worry if I don’t escort them to the evening meal.”

He breathed again when she said, “I will come tonight, when they are asleep.”

THE SERVANT WHO’D BROUGHT and lit the dozen extra beeswax candles left Alex’s chamber with an expression on his face that indicated he thought his Master had lost his wits.

Alex had never paid much attention to the furnishings of his bedchamber, but now he cast a careful eye over everything. He’d ordered the candles to make the room brighter. A hearty fire roared in the grate. After an intensive search, a lone bottle of mead had been unearthed in some dim cellar and now sat on a small table beside two goblets.

This was his wedding night, but his bride was being denied the traditional celebrations. It was up to him to make sure she didn’t feel the lack.

He debated whether to remove his clothing, but Elayne would have to walk the hallways fully dressed. He would have the opportunity to undress her—slowly—and he liked the notion of her removing his clothing.

The garments would remain on his person for the time being, though his leggings were becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the pleasurable erection that anticipation had brought on. He’d already discarded his doublet in the Great Hall during the evening meal.

He chuckled, recalling the look of stupefaction on
Romain’s face at the unusual behavior, but it had become stiflingly hot in the Hall waiting for the interminable meal to be over while watching his wife eat with servants.

He and Elayne had agreed not to divulge their secret union to his brothers or to her children until arrangements could be made for a formal wedding.

He sat down to await his bride in his favorite chair by the fire, his ankle resting atop his knee in an effort to stop his leg shaking. In his youth he’d imagined that, if he married, his wife would be a virgin. He regretted he wouldn’t be Elayne’s first lover and it filled him with anger that her husband had been a careless brute. But he was elated to be the one who’d show her the pleasures to be found in the marriage bed with a husband who cherished his wife. He sensed great passion in Elayne—a passion he longed to release and satisfy.

She didn’t wait for him to answer after tapping lightly at the door. To his dismay, she’d covered her hair with the
playd
. But she came to him quickly, brushing a shy kiss on his lips. “I thought you would enjoy removing it,” she whispered.

The caress of her lips sent more blood rushing to his groin. Her words were a balm to his soul. He reached up and gently slid the wool from her head, revealing the flaming beauty of her thick hair. He pressed his hands to her shoulders as he gathered up the fabric and lifted it from her body. He kissed it reverently before placing it on the bed.

She fixed her gaze on his face as he ran his fingers through her tresses. “I love your hair. I’ve dreamt of touching it like this. You must clip a lock or two and I’ll carry it with me, next to my heart, when we’re apart.”

She reached up to touch the hair at his temple. “Good idea. I will take this little curl as my memento.”

He put his arms around her waist then cupped her
derrière
, gathering her to his arousal. “My need for you is great, Elayne.”

Her hips responded. “I never knew what it was to want a man until I met you, Alexandre,” she breathed.

He put his forefinger on her lips. “You are my wife now. Please call me Alex.”

“Alex,” she whispered. “Alex.”

His name on her lips, whispered with sultry longing, exhilarated him.

He broke them apart and led her to the table with the mead. She eyed him curiously as he poured a little in each goblet, handing one to her. “We have a tradition that a man and his new bride drink mead on their wedding night. We are supposed to do so after getting between the sheets, but I fear I won’t be able to stop to drink mead once I have you in bed.”

Elayne laughed. “We have the same tradition in Scotland,” she said, taking a sip. “Mead is well known there. This tastes very good.”

The sparkle of mischief in her eyes drew him. He traced his tongue lightly over her wet lips, savoring the honeyed wine. “You taste very good,” he crooned. “I want to lick all of you.”

He put down his goblet and bent to raise the hem of her
bliaut
, gathering it up to ease the garment over her head and outstretched arms.

She stood before him in her linen chemise, blushing like a maiden, arms folded across her breasts. “I am no longer a young woman, Alex. I’ve had children.”

He took hold of her hands, easing her arms apart to reveal nipples pushing at the thin fabric, pouting to be suckled. “You are more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever met. Don’t hide your body from me. I want to see all of it. Take off your chemise.”

~~~

ALEX’S WORDS caused her body to heat with anticipation. Dugald had never uttered words of praise, only grunted with ill-disguised lust and a brief jerk of his head when he wanted her naked. His clumsy filling of her body always left her feeling degraded, empty, cold, and often bruised.

Even during her difficult pregnancy, he’d treated her like a chattel.

Alex would be different. His touch promised love, warmth, a shared passion.

She lifted the chemise from her body, resisting the temptation to cover her naked breasts. His smile and the flare of his nostrils as he inhaled deeply told her he liked what he saw. He cupped one breast with his hand, reaching for the goblet with the other. He took a sip of mead, then cupped her other breast.

She gasped when he swiped his tongue over one nipple, then suckled, hard. Indescribably delicious sensations travelled rapidly through her body from her nipple into the back of her thighs and thence to her most intimate place. A pulse throbbed between her legs. “Alex,” she murmured.

He pressed her breasts together, then looked up at her and smiled. “You are even more beautiful than I imagined.”

She gripped his scalp, desire rippling through her body as he repeated his tender worship of the other nipple.

When she thought she might go mad with the pleasure of it, he removed his mouth,
then rolled both nipples at the same time between his thumb and forefinger. “Mmm, mead never tasted so good,” he rasped.

A need
was building inside, a need she couldn’t name. “Alex,” she growled.

“Soon, my love, soon,” he reassured her as he tore off his shirt, though she wasn’t sure what he meant.

Seeing his bare chest for the first time stole away her breath. He was everything a woman could desire. Well-muscled but lean, his neck strong, but not thick, a torso that wouldn’t flinch if you struck it with a
soule
stick a thousand times. And beautiful, copper brown nipples she wanted to lick.

He had dark curly hair on his chest, which she supposed many men did, but its softness took her by surprise when she reached to touch it. “Maybe this is where I’ll claim my curl,” she whispered.

She let out a little
oh
of surprise when he dropped to his knees, nuzzling his nose into her mons, his hands on her hips. “You have curls in other places too. You smell wonderful.”

As quickly as he’d knelt, he straightened, gathering her into his strong arms.
“Time for bed, wife.”

Alex raked his hungry eyes over her body after
laying her on the bed. She’d never felt so beautiful, so loved. She thought the aching hunger couldn’t get any more insistent, but then he parted her nether lips with his thumbs and licked the diamond of her desire. She arched her back, digging her heels into the mattress.

When she cried out his name, he sucked her nub. The relentless need built and built. Something was coming. She didn’t know what until he slid a finger inside her. A wave of euphoria crashed through her womb, stealing the breath from her lungs. It cascaded through her body like a thousand stars strewn across the heavens by a divine hand.

Alex gently slid his finger in and out of her throbbing sheath, prolonging the ecstasy. She felt her inner muscles clenching on him.

But something was lacking. Her body craved more. “I need you inside me,” she murmured breathlessly.

~~~

ALEX FEARED
HIS HEART MIGHT BURST out of his chest as Elayne convulsed with the pleasure of what he suspected was the first release she’d ever experienced. The exquisite taste of her had almost been enough to make him abandon his determination to bring her to ecstasy and simply plunge his aching shaft inside her. But now he was glad. He wanted to beat his chest with his fists.

However,
there were more pressing needs, rendered more insistent when Elayne fluttered lazy eyelashes at him and growled, “I want to see you.”

He’d never shucked his boots and leggings so fast in his life. Breathing heavily, he knelt between her open legs, his engorged shaft bucking at the sight of her intimate place, coated with juices, ready for him.

Her eyes widened and she sat up, reaching for him. “You are magnificent,” she rasped. “Truly Alexandre the Great.”

His arrogant cock took over, now too big for its breeches in more ways than one. Seemingly finding her opening on its own, it plunged into the sweet, wet heat of her passage. This was right. It was good. He had come home.

She locked her legs around his, tucking her feet under his calves. “I have you now,” she declared as he thrust deeper and deeper.

She was tighter than he’d expected, but if he let his thoughts wander in that direction, he’d come too quickly. He wanted the incredible sensations to go on and on.

The warmth of her sensuous smile caught the attention of his busy
couilles
, and the love in her eyes confirmed what he already knew. He was more whole than he’d ever been.

His essence
rushed from his body into hers as intense pleasure raced up his spine and exploded into his brain.

He might have called out something. Or perhaps she had? He wasn’t sure, but he savored the
certainty she’d released again—with him. He collapsed on top of her, unable to summon the strength to support his sated body any longer.

She twirled her fingers in his hair. As sanity returned he became aware she was breathing heavily, and he was drooling into her neck. He raised his head, making an attempt to move off her. “I’m too heavy.”

She held him fast. “I love the feel of your weight on me.”

Slowly, his contented cock slipped from her sheath. He rolled onto his side, pulling the linens over their sweat
sheened bodies. He drew her against him so they were nose to nose, his hand on her
derrière
. “I’ll never let you go, Elayne. We fit together perfectly.”

Her blush charmed him, but what she said next resurrected his earlier urge to beat his chest.

“What you did, Alex, the incredible pleasure you gave me—I never—”

He pressed his forefinger to her lips. “You are a passionate woman, Elayne. All you needed was a man who loves you to make your body sing.”

With a contented sigh, she snuggled into him, humming a lullaby.

They drifted off to sleep. He wondered if she was hoping, as he was, that they’d made a child this night.