The Marriage Bed (The Medieval Knights Series) (13 page)

She could see the shadow of his black beard, a dark impression on his cheek and throat. She could see the thin golden flecks in his dark blue eyes. She could see his chest rise and fall as his breathing quickened. She could see the pulse of desire flutter in the hollow of his throat.

He was so close, and it was so dim in the confines of the barbican.

His mouth was so close. If only he would bend to her, taking her mouth as Adam had done. His assault she would welcome. His touch she craved. Surely he would follow his natural impulse.

As he had before.

As he had in that blazing kiss that shone in her memory like a star.

"Stand away from me," he breathed, his voice harsh and guttural.

Before she could react, he was gone, back toward the inner bailey. Leagues from the marriage bed.

Chapter 12

They may have been alone in the forced closeness of the barbican, but what had passed there was not long a secret. Mayhap the young squire Gilles, who had been set to the task of cleaning out the latrines for breaking his knight's favorite harness, had not yet heard, and that only because he smelled so foul. But everyone else knew, fortress and town alike. And knew not enough to keep silent.

Joan accosted her first, catching her as she crossed rapidly in front of the chapel, eager to avoid Father Langfrid.

"Are you well, dear?" she said, laying hold of Isabel's hands and clasping them within her own, her cheeks bright with misery and concern. "What was Adam about that he thought to avail himself of you in such a way? Surely the man had no cause to think you would return his regard, and with you so firmly wed to the man of your heart."

Something in the way Joan spoke made Isabel feel guilty to her knees.

"They say he lifted your
skirts...
did he truly attempt so much, and in the open passageway of the barbican?" Joan asked, her concern warring with her curiosity.

"I only remember that his attentions were most inappropriate and unwelcome."

"Of course they were," Joan soothed. "And he is most fortunate that Richard is such a forgiving man. I cannot think of a husband who would react with such gentle admonition to such a blatant attack."

Unless Richard felt that she had provoked it?
Whatever else she may be.
He had certainly reacted as if Adam were only partially to blame. And was he wrong? She had flirted with Adam openly, but only to attract Richard. Yet how could Adam know that? Guilt, like nausea, rose, gagging her.

"He has ever been a thoughtful man, slow to anger," Isabel said, quoting God's ideal of manhood. But was it hers? She would not think on it; Adam was gone, and by Richard's word. All was well.

Joan left her with a
hug
and a pat on the cheek, off to visit the carpenter's wife and new babe with a small bag of herbs to ease the discomfort of nursing. Isabel had brought wine; her duty there was done.

Elsbeth
found
her next, upon the outside stair to the hall. The sun was breaking through high clouds and warmed the stone, casting all beneath them in soft and gentle light. The wind was high, pushing the clouds across the heavens toward the distant sea; just as Elsbeth was pushing Isabel up the stair and into the sheltered portal of the hall entrance.

"I always knew Adam had it in him," she all but spat. Such vehemence from Elsbeth was hardly normal. Yet, it had not been a normal day. "He was lacking in chivalry—profoundly lacking."

"It does seem so," Isabel said, unsure of her own measure of guilt.

"And is so," Elsbeth said, giving her a quick, hard hug. "Dornei is well rid of him. Lord Richard did right and protected you well."

"Yea, he did," Isabel said, warming to the memory. Richard's fury had been hot upon seeing Adam's hands upon her. Surely such heat would accompany him to the marriage bed.

Aelis, finding her in the solar, led her thoughts in another and less pleasant direction.

"Of course, all are tittering about Richard's rage in finding Adam laying hands upon his wife," Aelis said.

"All?" Isabel said, fighting the flush of embarrassment.

"All," Aelis said bluntly. "Between the inner and outer bailey it is all that is whispered. That, and wondering why you did not shout for help. Surely someone could have come to your aid before Richard found you."

She had been silent, it was true, but it was because she was too shocked to speak. Did any think her willing to accept Adam's touch? Did they take her silence for consent?

Did Richard?

* * *

"She did not
cry out, 'tis a fact all know," Nicholas said to Richard as they walked through the outer bailey.

"All?" Richard asked, not looking at Nicholas, forcing Nicholas to match his stride.

"Of course all. She could have been heard in either bailey if only she would cry her need."

"Not all cry when in need," Richard commented.

"A woman?" Nicholas snorted. "When does a woman not cry her need to heaven and beyond?"

"Isabel is not like all women," Richard said, knowing it for the truth.

"Nay, she is not," Nicholas agreed coldly. "A man not pledged to her backed her to a wall and laid hands to her, and she uttered not a word of protest. She is most assuredly—"

"Unique," Richard finished, looking at Nicholas out of the corner of his eye. "I have known Isabel long. When she is gripped by fear, it is as a hand to her throat. If you would tattle within the walls of Dornei, speak of that. Better yet, do not speak at all if you have so little control of your own tongue."

"I am only trying to help you understand—"

"There is nothing to understand," Richard said coldly. "I am husband to Isabel."

"But is she wife to you?"

"According to the church, she is." At Nicholas's look, he added, "Do you question that there was a ceremony?"

"Nay, but perhaps... the legality of it."

"We were joined in the abbey with the archbishop's blessing. We are legally wed."

And would stay so, no matter what Nicholas plotted. It did not matter what Adam had done with Isabel or what Isabel had done with anyone else; and it did not signify that his blood tossed like hot poison in his veins when he saw again in his memory the sight of Isabel's exposed legs and struggling arms. He did not want her anywhere near him, with her seductive eyes and her velvet skin, yet he would allow no one else to have her.

He would not repudiate her.

He would not cast her away, not in that fashion. Isabel was his wife, by God's will, and she would stay his wife. Since Nicholas could not keep the rein on his bothersome and slanderous tongue, it would be Nicholas who would go.

"And I would have you travel to Lord Robert and tell him so," Richard said, ending the conversation. "I would have the marriage confirmed in his mind, so that he may know that all is well in Dornei." And it would be Nicholas's own foul tongue which would declare the permanence of his bond to Isabel.

Richard could not help but smile at the look on Nicholas's face.

And then he noted how strange it felt to smile. There had been little call to smile within the abbey and little more at Malton. But this was Dornei; perhaps he could find some small joy in Dornei. Being lord had its advantages. Nicholas's face at being so ordered one of them.

      
      
      
      
      
* * *

"'Tis naught to smile on, Isabel," Father Langfrid scolded. "The talk runs to the degree of your purity."

He had found her in the solar, where she had been pretending not to hide, and marched her back to the chapel for a private conversation under Christ's holy cross. Unfortunately for Langfrid, he had come upon her too late; she had already made peace with Adam's odd display of courtly love and the level of her own guilt. She had none. She had never in any way encouraged Adam to touch her; she had reviewed it all, and she had never encouraged that.

And if the talk ran to the "degree of her purity," that would soon be laid aside as well, for Richard would know the level of her purity once he made her his true wife.

As to all the rest, the only man she'd ever kissed had been Richard. He should know her heart well enough to know that. Father Langfrid knew her for a virgin still, though Adam had come uncomfortably close to robbing her of that virtue. The blessing was that now Langfrid was as anxious as she for Richard to seal their marriage with a conjugal night.

In all, Adam had performed her a good service in prompting Father Langfrid to so firmly unite with her in purpose: Richard must consummate the marriage.

“The talk will end when Richard does take me to the marriage bed," she said. "Communicate this to my husband, please. He has husbandly rights. And if that fails to move him, remind him of his husbandly duty. Richard is ever and always about his 'duty.'"

"I will speak with him," Langfrid replied, "but I hardly think it will come to that."

Chapter 13

"You must understand that you are expected by the church to give your wife children; on your present course, she has grounds for annulment," Langfrid said, growing hoarse with the effort to convince Richard to undertake sexual relations with his wife.

Richard rose from his knees, where he had been in most earnest prayer. God gave enlightenment to all who asked for light and understanding, and so Richard understood well who was behind this spiritual call to conjugal duty.

"Isabel will not have her marriage to me annulled," he said.

"Then you will perform your husbandly duty?"

Richard could almost find amusement in the idea. Most men would not find coupling with Isabel a duty. Most men would not have to be threatened with annulment to lay Isabel down on the marriage bed.

Images of dark hair, a bleached linen shift, and the feel of a woman's arms wrapped around his neck mingled with the sight of Isabel's legs draped in fabric and the obscene memory of Adam's hand tugging at that fabric.

He should have killed him.

Richard bowed his dark head and quickly confessed the murderous thought before it took firm hold in his mind and heart; such thoughts were unworthy of one who had committed his life to Christ's holy service. He struggled to regain his calm sense of earthly detachment.

This was what Isabel always wrought in him, this turmoil, strong emotion, wild thoughts of violence and passion. Needs. Needs that shamed him.

Life had been more peaceful in the exclusive company of men, celibate and prayerful men. There was nothing of peace in the presence of Isabel.

He believed in the perfection of God's providence.

He believed that God's ways were above his ways.

He believed that he was called to be perfect as Christ was perfect.

And because he believed all this, he willed himself to believe that God had ordained his mating with Isabel. He had dutifully married her. The mating was what he had yet to accomplish. The mating was what he most passionately did not want to do.

He would not repudiate Isabel, no matter what she had done, who had touched her, or how often.

Richard suppressed the turmoil that rose to blind him at the thought of male hands touching Isabel. He would allow no annulment. Being Lord of Dornei was where God had placed him, and here he would remain until God and God alone moved him.

And God could move him, back to his heart's desire, when he had performed his service here.

Yet what was needed in this earthly moment was for him to consummate the marriage; he had to mate with Isabel.

Of a faithful servant, God asked much.

"Yea, I make Isabel my wife tonight," he said, facing Langfrid, his blue eyes dark with resolve. "You may tell Isabel that I will follow the course of duty."

Langfrid blushed to his eyes in embarrassment, and Richard could not fault him. He knew Isabel, and the lengths to which she pushed a man, even if that man be a priest.

* * *

After Father Langfrid had delivered his blushing message that Richard would do his duty by her on the marriage bed, Isabel spent the hour before the meal searching for stains on her gown and snarls in her hair. She had to look perfect. If all went as she hoped, Richard would watch her walk across the floor to the high table, be speechless with admiration of her beauty, captivated by her conversation during the meal, and helplessly in love with her by the final course. He would rush her upstairs on a current of love and worship her with his body, as he had promised to do in their wedding vows.