Authors: Ellen Jones
Slowly, with obvious reluctance, his arms reached out, tightened, and pressed her body close to his. She could feel the corded muscles of his chest crushing her breasts, the hard sinews of his thighs against her own, smell the pungent male odor of horses, damp woods and leather, hear the sound of his breath, harsh and uneven in her ear. As he drew back his head to look down into her face, she could see the conflict in his eyes, torn between desire and a darker emotion she could not define.
“How fair you are,” he whispered, taking her face in his hands.
With unsteady fingers, Stephen unpinned the coils of hair wound about her ears. A russet waterfall tumbled down over her shoulders and back. He ran his fingers through the shining strands, pushing back tendrils from the ivory skin of her temples. Bending, he gently kissed her eyelids and forehead.
“Your hair has the sheen of an October leaf, and you are as vibrant, as alive, as full of color as autumn itself.” His eyes searched her face. “I have never cared so about a woman before; it is like a madness in my blood.”
“Oh yes,” she whispered, her heart pounding, “and for me too. But I would rather be like spring, for autumn turns all too soon to winter.”
“True,” he agreed, “but how brightly it burns while it lasts.”
“In the end the season dies.”
“As do all seasons, all things in nature. Does this mean we should not live meanwhile?”
“The risk,” she began in a hesitant voice.
“Naught worth doing is without risk,” he replied.
Their eyes grappled in an embrace that neither could break. Slowly, Stephen bent his head to find her mouth, savoring its warmth and texture, then parting her lips so that they opened like a flower under the sun. A melting sweetness began to spread through Maud’s body and she went limp against him.
Without taking his lips from hers, Stephen moved Maud forward to the bed, kicking the stools aside. He removed her surcoat and then parted from her mouth long enough to lift her tunic and her gown over her head. She felt his fingers slide the linen shift down over her body; his arms lifted her onto the bed. Flushing, Maud crawled beneath the fur coverlet when she heard Stephen’s breathing quicken as his eyes eagerly drank in the sight of her naked body.
Reclining against the silken cushions of the bed, she covertly watched Stephen pull off his tunic and shirt, then slip out of his hose and underdrawers. Maud, who had never seen a live naked man before, was awed by the sight of his broad shoulders and chest tapering into a slender waist and narrow hips, the sturdy legs framing the golden plumage of his manhood.
Stephen climbed into the bed beside her, and she heard his sudden intake of breath as he loosed her grip on the coverlet and slowly pushed it back. Through half-closed eyes, Maud saw his gaze linger on the rounded fullness of her breasts. A pulse began to beat heavily in his temple.
“How fair you are,” he whispered again, as he slipped under the coverlet and took her in his arms.
As Maud tasted the insistent sweetness of Stephen’s mouth, felt the length and breadth of his hard muscular body naked against hers, the warmth and strength of his arms holding her close, she found it impossible to restrain her mounting need of him. When she felt his large warm hand cup the soft peak of her breast, she gasped as if a flash of lightning had shot through her.
“Ma belle, ma belle,” he whispered, against her open mouth. Both hands now encircled her breasts, squeezing them gently, his thumbs caressing the swell of her large nipples, while he lifted his head and began to kiss the hollows of her neck. The touch of his hands, the pressure of his body, the feeling of being controlled by him, created in Maud sensations that she had not known existed, and was powerless to deny.
His lips traveled slowly down the creamy column of her neck to kiss the blue-veined mounds of her breasts, his tongue flicking back and forth over each nipple. Maud’s arms went round the back of his neck; her fingers twined themselves in the springy thickness of his golden brown hair as she pressed his head deeper into her bosom. When his lips closed over a rosy tip and began to suck, the sensation was exquisite. Swept along by a tide of feeling that threatened to engulf her, Maud begged him to stop, wanting him never to stop.
Stephen finally lifted his head to gaze down at her; his eyes, heavy-lidded with passion, had deepened to emerald. Roughly, he tore the coverlet from her body, and threw one leg across hers, sliding one hand over the smooth skin of her flat belly to stroke the velvet softness of her hips and thighs with demanding fingers. As she felt the thrust of his manhood probing her inner thigh like a rock, Maud stiffened, resisting the flame of desire that burned through her body.
“What is it, dear heart?” Stephen asked, his voice thick with urgency. “I will do nothing against your will. Do you wish me to stop?”
“No,” she murmured.
His lips again found her mouth, drinking deeply of its sweetness as if he could never have enough.
Stephen lifted his head, his eyes traveling down over the soft curves of her body, the skin glowing like a pearl, yet warm and vibrant to his fingers. His hand resumed stroking her hips, then moved lower to lightly tease the dark red curls between her thighs. She must stop him, Maud thought wildly, stop him before—Her legs parted with a will of their own, and when Stephen touched her, the shock of pleasure was so intense, she wanted to scream. As his fingers began a lingering exploration, caressing the silken flesh, probing into secret crevices, Maud lay helpless, wave after wave of excitement coursing through her, the juices of her body overflowing. The need to surrender herself to Stephen had become overwhelming; every part of her cried out for fulfillment but still she battled against it, as though fighting for her life.
As Stephen sought to check the force of his own passion, his body trembled against her own, while his breath came in harsh gasps. His fingers increased their pressure, more insistent now, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. She could hear his ragged breath echoing her own. Without warning she lost control. A blaze of love overran her body like wildfire, blotting out everything else. A burning cauldron of pleasure welled up inside her, scorching in its fierce intensity. Her body took command and she began to arch wildly against his fingers, until something inside her exploded like a shooting star, and a loud cry was torn from her throat, quickly stifled by Stephen’s hand over her mouth. Her body writhed, shuddering in a coil of ecstasy that left her stunned and shaken. Nothing like this had ever before happened to her.
Restraint gone, Stephen quickly mounted her, when a sudden pounding on the door froze him in the very act of penetration.
“My lady, is aught amiss?” It was Aldyth’s voice, strident with concern, as she sought to open the door.
“You must answer her,” Stephen said urgently in her ear. “Now.” He quickly withdrew.
“Nothing … nothing is amiss,” Maud called back weakly, terrified of being discovered. “I … stumbled and hurt—my toe.”
“The priest is with you?”
“The priest? Oh—yes, yes, he is right here.”
She sensed a hesitation on the other side of the door, as if Aldyth could see right through the stout wood, and then the sound of reluctant footsteps fading away.
The fear receded and Maud took a deep quivering breath, her eyes wide with wonder. Although the act of love had not been consummated, still, something magical had happened to her body; a barrier long held in place had been removed and she was now aware of a part of herself that had been hidden.
“What happened to me?” she asked in a tremulous voice.
Stephen smiled. “What an innocent you are.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
“But you have not been—I don’t like to leave you like this, my love.”
“Nor do I like being left, let me assure you, but there is no help for it. I must dress and make my way past your watchful dragon.” Stephen ran his hands caressingly over her breasts, kissing each tip. “This time it was enough you were pleasured.” He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and bent to pick up his hose and shirt. “There will be time enough later for both of us,” he said, stepping into his hose and pulling the white linen shirt over his head.
Time. The world moved in with a rush, and Maud turned her head away.
Sensitive to her sudden shift in mood, Stephen sat down on the edge of the bed. “What is it?” He took her in his arms.
She buried her face against his chest. “No time,” she whispered. “There may be no time at all.”
“Why? What do you mean?” He held her at arm’s length. “You cannot keep anything from me. Not now.”
She pushed him gently away and slid her feet to the floor. He was right; the nature of their relationship had changed forever. Shivering, she picked up her linen shift and gown lying on the dried rushes and quickly slipped them on.
Stephen said nothing but watched her with narrowed green eyes as he pulled on his boots and tunic.
“Indeed,” Maud said slowly, looking at him with a troubled expression. “You have lit a flame, Cousin, that will not be so easy to put out; I can deny you nothing now.”
Stephen smiled slightly but did not speak.
“The real reason the King keeps me in confinement is because I refuse to marry Fulk of Anjou’s young son, Geoffrey.” She paused, watched the look of amazement on Stephen’s face as he grasped the significance of her words. “But how long can I withstand my father?” she continued, voicing her innermost dread. “In the end, what he wants he will have.” Her body gave an involuntary shudder.
He walked over to her and took her in his arms. “By God’s birth, the King has sworn an oath not to marry you without the consent of his barons. They will never agree to a marriage with Anjou. Never.”
“I threatened to tell them and you see how he ensures my silence: a prisoner until I agree to be wed. Holy Mother, what can I do?”
“My God, my God.” Stephen clasped her tightly in his arms and closed his eyes. “We all wed where we must, regardless of inclination, but an Angevin, an untried youth!”
Suddenly he held her away from him. “Perhaps there is something we can do.” His voice was vibrant with excitement. “Nothing is to prevent me from telling anyone I choose, starting with the de Beaumont twins, who will raise the whole land they will be so enraged, then my brother, who will surely alert Holy Church.”
“But no one must know you’ve been here. They think I see a priest. You will be questioned as to the source of this knowledge.”
Stephen thought for a moment. “I will say that you smuggled out a message through Aldyth who bribed a guard to give it to me. No one will doubt me.”
Maud felt a surge of hope. “Is it possible?” she breathed. “If only you could spread the news, the council will force my father to cancel the marriage arrangements. He must let me go free.”
A mixture of terror and guilt shot through her when she envisioned the King’s rage at having his plans thwarted. Would her reckless words to Stephen doom Normandy to fall to Louis of France? She retreated from the thought. No, no, what Stephen proposed was an excellent solution to her dilemma.
“I had best be gone quickly, Cousin,” he said. “The sooner I raise the alarm, the sooner will you be free.” He kissed her lips and let her go.
Arranging the black cloak over his head so that the voluminous folds fell forward over his face, Stephen started to open the door. A premonition of disaster seized Maud and she clung to him as if she would never let him go.
“Come, dear heart,” he said, gently loosening her arms. “This is unlike you. Never doubt that we shall see each other soon.”
“Take this,” she whispered, reaching around her neck to lift off the chain with the silver ring she had worn since her father had given it to her on the day she left for Germany. “It belonged to Queen Matilda, wife to the Conqueror. Our grandmother.”
“Then it is sure to bring me good fortune. I will treasure it always.” He brought the silver circle to his lips, then slipped it over his head, tucking it inside his tunic beneath his shirt. “Trust me to find a way for us to be together again.”
Stephen pulled open the door, and quickly strode through the Queen’s solar, brushing past Aldyth, who stared after him with open mouth and astonished eyes.
“Good day to you, Father. By the Rood!” Aldyth said indignantly as the cloaked figure hurried out the door before she could catch him.
Muttering under her breath, Aldyth walked into Maud’s chamber carrying a large box with her. Taking one look at the rumpled bed and Maud’s distraught face, she dropped the box on the floor.
“What is the meaning of this, pray?” she asked in a trembling voice, her face pale as death. “May God forgive you, child, what have you done? That was not a man of God!”
Without answering, Maud ran to the window slit and peered out. The snow had stopped but the ground was still covered with a thick white carpet. After a few moments, a black-cloaked figure could be seen in the courtyard. She almost fainted with relief. Thank the Holy Mother, Stephen had made good his escape. Then, as Maud watched in horror, several guards surrounded Stephen, and marched him back inside the castle.
W
HEN TWO GUARDS ROUGHLY
grabbed Stephen by the arms and marched him back inside the castle, he did not resist them. Calmly throwing back the cowl of his cloak, he gave them an innocent smile.
“There’s no need to treat me like a felon. What do you want?” He hoped his voice did not reveal his inner terror.
Startled, the guards dropped his arms.
“Oh, my lord, we had no idea it was you,” one of the guards stammered. “Someone saw a man covered in black running down the passage.” He looked anxiously at Stephen. “I hope you won’t take it amiss.”
“For doing your duty? Heaven forfend.”
The guards smiled in relief and stepped back.
Stephen walked unsteadily back into the courtyard where his horse was tethered. His body trembled as he mounted the mare, but whether in relief at his narrow escape or because his loins ached to finish the business he had earlier begun with Maud, he could not tell.