Notorious (29 page)

Wolf grinned down at her, took his hands from the reins, cupped his mouth, and shouted, “I'm in
love
!”

An owl on a birch branch asked, “Whoo? Whoo?”

Wolf shouted, “Brianna de Beauchamp, that's who!”

Brianna lowered her voice and spoke more intimately. “You are a reckless driver, who enjoys taking risks.”

He picked up the reins. “You too obviously enjoy taking dangerous risks, or you wouldn't be marrying me, sweetheart.”

“I taught Isabelle to take risks, but I never dreamed she would take your father for her lover.”

“He seduced her with his notorious Mortimer charm and she threw all caution to the wind.”

“Isabelle's risk was far, far greater than mine. She is the Queen of England and her lover can never marry her. They are both committing adultery, yet if God is just, He will forgive her sin.”

“True, but I'm not certain He will forgive Roger Mortimer.”

She gazed up at him. “Why?”

“Father chose Isabelle, not only because she was a beauteous queen, but because she was the perfect instrument of Mortimer's revenge upon Edward Plantagenet. The day my father surrendered to the king, and Edward put him in chains, Mortimer put a curse on him and vowed he would bring him low.”

“But your father hasn't yet invaded and taken his revenge.”

Wolf shook his head. “Roger Mortimer took his revenge the night he cuckolded King Edward.”

Brianna remembered words Wolf had once said to her:
I could seduce you into doing anything I wished, but I promise I will never lure you to it, no matter how much you tempt me. My integrity wouldn't allow it.

She smiled up into his dark eyes. “I love you, Wolf Mortimer.”

He dragged the horses to a halt and pulled her into his arms. “You had better, my beauty.” His insistent fingers found their way beneath the fur rug and inside her sable cloak.

She could feel the warmth of his possessive hands through the material of her gown as he caressed her back, and when she lifted her mouth for his demanding kisses she knew that this was her man and there was nowhere in the entire world she would rather be on this exciting winter day than on a sleigh ride at Flamstead, enfolded in her lover's arms.

The horses stamped their feet and blew clouds of vapor into the cold air. With his fingertips, Wolf brushed the snowflakes from Brianna's eyelashes. He slapped the reins and the horses surged into a gallop. “I'm burning—I forgot it was cold. If I let myself get any hotter, I shall make love to you in the sleigh.”

“That would be heavenly.” She slid her hand along his thigh.

“I'm trying to control myself until we are married. Behave yourself, English.”

She squeezed his thigh muscle. “Fiery Welsh dragon!”

 

When they returned to the castle, Jory told Wolf that she would order a bath be prepared for him. “Come, Brianna, we must choose something lovely for you to wear at your wedding. The chapel will be cold and we shall both have to wear our fur cloaks, but underneath we must look spectacular.”

Wolf said with regret, “I have only leathers to wear.”

“Take a look in Rickard's wardrobe. I'm sure you'll find something. Go up those stairs and turn left. Rickard's chamber is at the very end. In fact that's where you can bathe.”

A short time later, as Wolf was sponging himself in the wooden tub, the door swung open and Rickard de Beauchamp stepped inside. “You are actually going to wed Brianna?”

“I am. We will be brothers-in-law.” Wolf grinned.

“Brianna
is
my sister, but since I am wed to your
father's
sister, I'll still be your
uncle
,” Rickard taunted.

Wolf refused to be baited. “Uncle makes you sound old, but take your choice—you can be my uncle or my brother.”

“You shrewd sod—you know I'd rather we were brothers.” He reached into his doublet and pulled out letters. “I had no idea you were here. I was on my way to Saint Albans to look for you. I have a letter from your father.” Rickard set down two envelopes and handed Wolf a towel. “The other is for Brianna from Isabelle.”

“It's fortuitous you arrived—you can be my witness. The queen's letter may distract her. I won't give it to her until after we are wed.”

“My sister is a female who likes to make her own decisions.”

“I am well aware of it, Rickard.” Wolf opened the wardrobe. “Truthfully, I wouldn't want it any other way.” He pulled out a dark green velvet doublet with a golden dragon embroidered on one sleeve. “May I borrow this? It's Mortimer colors.”

“Be my guest. I'll wear the wine velvet.”

Wolf grinned. “I leave you little choice, since everything else is leathers.”

“Resplendent garments are rather useless on a horse-breeding estate. Did you know Flamstead would be Brianna's one day?”

“Why do you suppose I asked her to marry me?” Wolf jested.

“That's a bloody lie. I know how much pride you have.”

 

It was evident that everyone gathered before the altar in the small, chilly chapel was inordinately proud, as Brianna and Wolf exchanged their wedding vows.

“Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”

“I do.” The Earl of Warwick proudly placed his daughter's right hand in Wolf Mortimer's and stepped back.

“I, Roger, take thee Brianna to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance, and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

Brianna had forgotten that Wolf's real first name was Roger, and she smiled her secret smile. “I, Brianna, take thee Roger to my wedded husband.” She continued, proudly repeating the solemn words Wolf had vowed.

He gazed down at his bride with loving eyes, and slipped the plain gold ring that Jory had provided onto her finger. “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee honor, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.”
With all my FUTURE worldly goods.

The priest put his hand on top of the couple's clasped right hands. “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. I pronounce that Roger and Brianna be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

The newlyweds placed their signatures in the chapel's register, and then Rickard and Brianna's nurse, Mary, signed as witnesses.

Warwick was the first to hug his daughter, and Brianna noticed that his cheeks were damp. “I love you,” she whispered.

Jory gave her new son-in-law a motherly embrace, and Wolf wished his own mother were this warm and loving.

Guy and Rickard thumped the groom on the back with hearty blows that would have felled a man with a less powerful build.

When the wedding party entered the castle from the cold night air, the tempting tang of roasted game and meat, layered with the delicious aroma of baked bread, cakes, and tarts, was a mouthwatering assault on the senses.

When Wolf removed his black wool cloak, and Brianna saw the golden dragon on his doublet, she was thrilled.

He helped her from her sable cape and gazed transfixed at the exquisite picture she made. Wolf realized just how lucky he was.
Brianna is a magnificent marriage prize.

She had chosen a pale green silk gown, because it was a Mortimer color and because her red-gold curls were a vivid contrast. She also wore her birthday chain about her waist, with the large cabochon emerald suggestively decorating her mons.

The hall was filled with the people who lived and worked at Flamstead. Not by word or even look did they let on that they knew this was a wedding celebration. Since they were well aware that the marriage must be kept secret, they conducted themselves with a veneer of normalcy, albeit underneath was a barely suppressed frivolity.

As the food and drink were consumed, the atmosphere became progressively more festive and noisy. Toasts were drunk silently without the usual testimonials. There was no dancing with the beauteous bride, but there was no lack of merry songs sung, both suggestive and otherwise. Finally, Wolf got to his feet and raised his goblet to everyone present. “I thank you with all my heart for making me feel at home.”

A cheer broke out and reverberated about the Great Hall.

“I
shouldn't…but I shall!”

Using Brianna's favorite phrase, Wolf picked up his bride, carried her from the hall and swept her up the stairs.

“My bedchamber is to the right,” Brianna indicated.

“Your mother had Rickard's chamber prepared for us.”

“Why?” she asked breathlessly.

“Because your chamber is next to your parents' and Rickard's is to the left, at the far end.”

“Ah, obviously they don't want to be disturbed by our cries of passion,” Brianna teased.

“I warrant it was in deference to your shyness.”

“I am now a Mortimer, for God's sake. Shyness is not in my vocabulary.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“And then some,” she said, using his favorite phrase.

As he reached to open the door he saw that Shadow had been following them. “You can stay out here and guard us tonight.”

“With all she ate at the wedding supper, she will be asleep long before we are.”

Inside the chamber, scented candles had been lit and the bed made with fresh linen sheets. A handful of dried rosebuds had been scattered across the pillows. A jug of wine and two goblets sat on the desk, along with the letters Rickard had brought.

Wolf sat Brianna down on the bed and knelt before her. He raised her foot, removed her slipper, and kissed her instep. Then he repeated the pretty gesture with her other foot.

“You make me feel cherished.”

“I vowed that I would. I've only just begun.”

Brianna drew in a shuddering breath as his hands slid up her legs and caressed her bare thighs; then he pulled off her hose and garters. His fingers stroked her flesh. “Your skin is soft and smooth as silk.”

“Thighs are wondrous things,” she whispered. “Yours have the power to drive me wild. Perhaps I should get a dragon tattoo.”

“Over my dead body, English.”

“Will you always hold your Welsh superiority over me?”

“Among other things,” he promised.

Brianna removed the gold chain from around her waist.

Wolf took it and set it on the bedside table for safekeeping. “I wish I could give you jewels, sweetheart.”

“Wishes can come true,” she assured him mischievously.

“I have no doubt of it.” He slipped his arms behind her and unfastened the buttons at the back of her gown. “I am about to get one of my wishes.”

“More than one, I warrant.”

When Wolf removed her gown and her petticoat, his teasing stopped. “You are wondrous fair, my beauty.”

Brianna reached out and threaded her fingers into his long, black locks and murmured, “Strip for me…It's been so long.”

Wolf complied immediately and watched her eyes darken with desire as he revealed the dragon. He flexed his thigh muscle and Brianna gasped with delight as it flicked its fiery tongue.

Gently he pushed her back on the bed, and starting at her toes, began to worship her with his lips. When he got to her knees, he paused and looked at her. When he saw anticipation writ clearly on her face, he continued and trailed kisses up the insides of her thighs. Once more he paused and gazed into her eyes.

“The emerald decorating your mons shamelessly taunted and tantalized me to madness tonight. Will you accept your just deserts?”

“I shouldn't…but I shall.”

Brianna stared in rapt fascination as Wolf caressed her mons with his lips, then thrust his tongue into her sugared sheath. Never in a thousand years could she ever have imagined a man could make love this way, but the sensations he aroused were so unbelievably sensual that she arched her mons into his demanding mouth and writhed with uninhibited abandon.

“Wolf!” she cried in disbelief as she dissolved in liquid tremors. “I thought I knew everything about making love.”

He came up over her. “You've only just begun to learn.”

She gazed up into his magnetic gray eyes. “Do you know everything?”

“No, thank God. We'll explore and learn together, sweetheart.”

His fingers reached to untangle a rosebud caught in her hair, and then he changed his mind because it looked so pretty nestled in her curls. He spread her red-gold tresses across the pillow and gazed down at her. He watched the tips of her lush, upthrust breasts turn into tiny, hard jewels. To Wolf, Brianna was the most exquisite creature in the world and he exulted that she was his woman.

Brianna wound her arms about her husband's neck and pulled him down to her. She trailed her lips along his jaw, then kissed his ear. “I love how you taste and how you smell,” she whispered.

“And how is that?” he asked, bemused.

“Like man, and wolf, and dragon!”

“That's a figment of your vivid imagination.”

She arched her mons against his hard, erect cock. “I warrant
that
isn't my imagination.”

Wolf's face became fierce and intense as he lowered his hips and with one hot, driving thrust, unleashed the wild desire that had been riding him since before dawn.

Brianna closed sleekly around him and shivered each time his breath swept her neck. She wrapped her legs high about his back and took him all the way inside her, yielding to his dark male dominance with breathless cries of passion.

He watched her face closely and when she peaked in climax he withdrew. Wolf would father no child until he could support it with Mortimer riches.

Wolf spent on Brianna's belly, gently wiped it with the linen sheet, and then he enfolded her in his arms and held her against his heart. They lay still, savoring the closeness and the intimacy of pledged lovers who had just mated. It was as if magic spiraled around them, weaving an invisible yet tangible cocoon that kept them private and separate from the entire world.

After the quiet time, Wolf stirred and kissed her brow. Brianna stretched, enjoying the feeling of languor that seeped through her limbs. He rolled with her so that she was in the dominant position; then he opened his legs so that Brianna lay between them. “Are you comfortable, sweetheart?”

She gave a heartfelt sigh. “I may never move again.”

“When I was at Saint Albans, I had one of my visions.”

Brianna gazed at him, enthralled. “Was it about the future?”

“It was.” He brushed the red-gold tendrils back from her forehead. “I saw a fleet of a hundred ships make anchor off the Suffolk coast. My father, accompanied by Queen Isabelle, landed with an invasion force. England's earls, barons, and bishops met them with open arms, and almost without bloodshed they forced King Edward to abdicate in favor of his son.”

“You have true second sight. Your visions will come true!”

“They always have,” he said quietly. “I witnessed the Coronation of Prince Edward. After the ceremony, Queen Isabelle restored everything that had been taken from Roger Mortimer, and young King Edward made him Justiciar of Wales for life.”

“I warrant Teddy will make a great king in the Plantagenet tradition of his magnificent grandfather.”

“In my vision, my father rewarded me with my uncle of Chirk's vast estates. That is what prompted me to seek you out and ask you to marry me, sweetheart.”

Brianna instantly scrambled away from him and knelt before him on the bed. She dug her fists into her hips, tossed back her disheveled hair, raised her chin, and challenged him like a ferocious wildcat. “You Welsh devil! Your towering pride would not allow you to marry me until you knew you would be a wealthy and important nobleman.”

Wolf laughed at her. “You are angry because I will be able to provide for you on a grand scale! You are the most maddening and perverse female I have ever known.”

She lunged at him and grabbed two fistfuls of his long hair. “Just how many
have
you known?”

Wolf saw the teasing light in her eyes. “Let me see…counting you…that would be…”

“One!” she cried.

“One,” he conceded and pulled her down beside him. “I have no idea when all this will happen, Brianna. It could be one year, or even two. Until then, you will have to keep me.”

“I'll keep you. I'll keep you in a continuous state of arousal,” she promised wickedly.

“Two can play that game,” he threatened, caressing her breasts.

“Just one moment.” She struggled to sit up. “Why didn't you tell me about your vision before you proposed?” She answered her own question. “You were testing me to see if I truly loved you!”

He grinned. “A damn good thing you passed the test. Pour me some wine, English. This is thirsty work.”

Brianna got up and poured them each a goblet of wine, and then she padded happily to the door and let Shadow into the chamber.

“May I read my letter now?” she asked sweetly.

“You knew you had a letter?”

“Of course I knew. Both our letters are lying in plain sight on the desk, but since this is our wedding night, it was important that we put our own needs first.” She came back to the bed, handed Wolf the letter from his father, and then sat down cross-legged and tore open her letter from Queen Isabelle.

Isabelle told her how happy she had been at her brother's court in Paris. King Charles of France lived in opulent luxury. She told Brianna that her reunion with Roger had been more wonderful than she had ever dreamed. She said the only thing that spoiled her visit was Edward's constant demands that she return home to him immediately.

Brianna handed her letter to Wolf so he could read it.

Wolf was far more reluctant to let his wife read the letter from his father, but after a moment's hesitation he handed it to her. She might as well learn firsthand of Roger Mortimer's manipulative nature since he was now her father-in-law.

The letter was signed with only the initial M.

Brianna could not help comparing the information in both letters. Where Isabelle was happy that Prince Edward found one of the daughters of the Count of Hainault appealing, Mortimer had already agreed to make a pawn of Isabelle's son by marrying him to one of Hainault's daughters and make her the Queen of England, in return for money and provisions for his invasion.

“Roger Mortimer makes promises he may not be able to keep.”

“To my father, the end justifies the means.”

Brianna gave him back his letter. “It obviously takes someone this hardened and determined, and yes,
devious
, to invade a country, depose its king, and set up another in his stead.”

“Unfortunately, it does.”

She looked at him and smiled. Wolf was very like his father, with one glaring exception.
Integrity!
Brianna thanked God for it. She climbed back into bed beside her husband. “Your father expects you to get the Earl of Norfolk to eat out of your hand.”