The Red Wolf's Prize (19 page)

Bringing his hands to her face, he cupped her cheeks. Her
lashes fluttered open. The Red Wolf’s eyes were like liquid silver. His
breathing came hard, as did hers, her heart racing like a wild doe before a
predator.

“It is time, Serena.” He took her hand and led her to the
bed. Pulling back the cover, he gestured her forward. She lay down, lifting her
damp hair onto the pillow, and looked back at him in nervous anticipation.

“I have waited long to have you. But never before have I
taken a virgin. Though I do not intend to hurt you, I may.”

She did not speak but found comfort in what she saw in his
eyes. The anger was gone. He would try to ease her pain if he could.

He joined her on the bed and pulled her against him, his arm
stretched possessively across her chest where his hand kneaded her breast,
until she moaned with pleasure. She turned into his embrace. A tingling ache
arose at the apex of her thighs as he slipped his knee between her legs.

He kissed her again, and rising on one elbow, bent his head
to her breast. Her flesh was on fire as he took her nipple into his mouth. Her
fingers delved into his thick chestnut hair and she held his head to her
breast. The warmth of his tongue and the gentle scraping of his teeth caused
her to writhe. The feeling was almost more than she could bear.

“Oh…my lord.”

Returning his mouth to hers, he kissed her deeply. Lifting
his head, he said, “I am your husband and soon your lover. Call me by my given
name.”

“Renaud,” she breathed, as his mouth sought her other
breast. He drew his thigh up between her legs to press against the place that
was aching with want.

As he kissed her, his hand moved to her intimate flesh where
he parted the folds and touched her. All her senses came alive as he moved his
finger, slowly circling the most sensitive place. She grasped his shoulders,
seeking more.

He circled the spot again and again, nearly driving her to
madness as she writhed against what had become the center of her world. The
invasion of his fingers that followed brought a building pleasure.

Before she could think what was coming, he rose over her,
settled his body between her thighs, pressed his hard flesh to the entrance of
her womb and thrust deep.

Serena cried out in response to the sudden pain, only to be
silenced by his mouth covering hers, as he stilled. She tried to calm her
clenching muscles, all the while feeling the fullness, the stretching and the
pain from his hard shaft invading her virgin’s body.

Then he plunged more deeply, until she was nearly rent in
two. The pain gradually eased as he began to move within her, forcing her flesh
to accommodate his domination of her body.

With his forehead pressed into the pillow next to her head,
he slipped his hands under her hips, lifted her and drove deeply. Her muscles
clamped around his hard shaft, and her nails bit into his back. She held onto
him as he moved within her, feeling her own passion rise with his.

His deep moan resonated through her as he suddenly tensed,
then collapsed upon her.

Serena lay there, feeling his weight and listening to his
breathing slow while his shaft seemed to shrink where they were joined. Her own
breathing calmed and she wondered if this was the lovemaking the servants
gossiped about.

He rolled to one side, drawing her with him and kissed her
temple. Pressing her head to his shoulder, he spoke in a low voice. “We will do
well together, Serena. I have always known it would be so. Had you been honest
with me, this would have happened sooner, and I might not have been so quick to
reach my release.”

“I did not trust you.” She spoke truthfully. “You were a
Norman conqueror.”

“I am still that, but now I am also your husband. Do you
trust me now?”

She would not deny him the truth. “Yea, I do.”

“To hear that speaks well of our future. I would it would
always be so.”

They lay together for a while, the Red Wolf idly running his
hand over the curve of her waist and down her hip, his fingers gently caressing
her still sensitive skin. Her leg was draped over one of his, her breasts
pressed into his side.

It felt right to lie next to him. They fit well together.

While there had been no words of love, she had not expected
any from the knight who wed her out of duty to his king. And for her part, she
had thought to become his wife for the sake of her people. They would never
have met, much less married, save for the Bastard duke’s conquering of her
country. But if she confessed the truth, she wanted no other as husband. For
though the Red Wolf had taken her to wife out of duty, she had come to care for
him. Mayhap even love him. Was it possible?

She was nearly asleep when he spoke. “This time I will make
love to you more slowly. This time you will join me in my release.”

“This time?” she whispered. Still feeling a bit sore, she
was in no hurry to repeat their joining.

“You did not, per chance, think I would take you only once
this day? Nay, I have much to make up for,
wife
. And I would not deny
you the pleasure I would have given you had it not been so long since I had a
woman.”

He pulled her on top of him, so that she faced him with her
hands on either side of his head. What was he about? She placed her hands on
his shoulders as he spread her knees apart and pulled them up, forcing her to
sit up and straddle him. The position left her sensitive flesh atop his shaft
that was hardening once again. To her surprise, her own flesh became wet and
she had the urge to move against him.

“You will like this position. Serena, since you ride so
well.”

She stared into his eyes seeing amusement.

He brought his hands to her full breasts and began gently
kneading the sensitive flesh, sending ripples of delight through her.

“You have beautiful breasts, my lady. Even a servant’s tunic
could not hide all your treasures.”

She smiled, letting her head fall back at the waves of
ecstasy that flowed over her when he shifted his hands to her hips and slid her
back and forth over his manhood until it was slick from her own wetness.

“It feels…good,” she uttered.

“Move your hips to rock back and forth.” She did, and soon
wanted more.

He groaned and his eyes closed as he rubbed his warrior’s
rough palms over her nipples causing them to harden into tight buds.

She continued to rock back and forth, sensing a rising need
to be joined with him. He must have shared her need for he opened his eyes, and
with his hands on her waist, moved her forward.

“What—” She was about to ask what he wanted her to do when
he lifted her onto his shaft and pushed down until he was fully sheathed inside
her. “Oh…,” she sighed, closing her eyes at the pleasure she felt from the
fullness of him inside her.

He pulled her head down to kiss her, then allowed her to sit
up. She could see what he wanted and leaned forward, her palms on his chest as
she used her legs to move up and down on his hardened flesh until her pleasure
increased with the rising tension in her body.

His shaft, buried deep, caused her to throb with need. The
tension where they were joined grew more urgent, and she rose to meet it,
moving against his upward thrusts. Their coupling became a wild exchange of
passion as Serena strained toward the release he had spoken of. He uttered
sounds that told her he was nearing his own fulfillment.

Suddenly, he rolled her beneath him and plunged deep.

Her muscles constricted. She soared into a world of blinding
sensation. Then she was floating, floating, as ripples of pleasure coursed
through her, her muscles throbbing around his hardened flesh.

“Ahhh…” she rasped. Opening her eyes, she looked up at his
face, their gazes meeting. Could he see the passion in her eyes? Could he see
the love in her heart?

“Serena…,” he said, his breathing ragged, “my Serena.”
Bracing himself above her, he tensed and shut his eyes tightly. A flood of warm
liquid flowed into her passage as he fell upon her. But he did not stay there.
Rolling to one side, he drew her against his chest and wrapped his arms around
her, holding her close. He pressed a light kiss to her forehead, a tender
gesture for this hardened knight.

Never could she have imagined the wonder of what they had
shared. And with her acceptance of their union, Serena experienced a peace.
From the first time he’d kissed her, she had desired him. It was that desire
that had frightened her into fleeing, knowing he was a Norman. Now she was his
wife and would be for as long as they lived.

Stroking her back, he spoke words of comfort in French,
smoothing the damp strands of hair from her face.

She turned and pressed a kiss to his lips, which he returned.

“Serena,” he said, “you are mine. After this day, you will
sleep only in my chamber.”

“It shall be as you wish.”

She had fought her own desire to run from him. But with the
certain knowledge she was his came the guilt of submitting so fully to her
conqueror, not merely her body, but her heart. For in their joining, she had
truly bonded with this man in a way she had not expected. She had submitted for
her people never fully realizing the pleasure she would find in his arms. Never
realizing the truth their coupling would reveal hidden in her heart. Against
her will, a fledgling love had been born for the knight called the Red Wolf.

She was now his mate. Maugris had spoken the truth: she
would birth his sons. Even this day, his seed might have taken root. Strangely,
the picture of small versions of the Red Wolf following after their father
brought a smile to her face.

“I’m so glad ye agreed to the blue silk,” Cassie weakly
uttered from Serena’s bed where she watched Serena dress for her wedding the
next afternoon. “It brings out the blue in yer eyes.”

Eawyn nodded her agreement and carried the gown to Serena.

“I will wear it as a token of our friendship, Cassie,” said
Serena.

“And mine for ye is woven into every fold,” came the soft
reply from the bed.

So that Cassie could be a part of the day, Serena had chosen
to dress for her wedding in her old chamber. Sir Maurin, who frequently checked
on the object of his affection, had to be shooed away to allow the women to
prepare. In Cassie’s place, Eawyn and Aethel were to help Serena don the gown
she and Cassie had sewn in anticipation of this day.

Serena’s gaze drifted to Aethel who had remained mostly
silent. Now sorry for all the damage she had caused, the woman had not left
Cassie’s side since they carried her back to Talisand. Serena believed Aethel
was trying to atone for her misguided act. Her demeanor had changed, that much
was certain. Sir Alain might have had something to do with it for Serena had
observed the knight speaking in hushed tones to Aethel more than once last
evening.

“How are you feeling?” she asked the handmaiden.

“Better.” Fortunately, the knife that had sliced through
Cassie’s skin entered at an angle and had not gone so deep as to jeopardize her
life. Still, she would need care for some time to recover. Aethel’s knowledge
of herbs would be helpful.

Serena gave Cassie a warm, encouraging smile. “Each day will
be better.”

She turned to admire the finished gown Eawyn held out to
her. The undertunic was of soft linen dyed a pale blue. The fine outer garment
Eawyn slipped over Serena’s head was a shimmering sapphire silk. Around her
waist was a belt of silver links.

A knock at the chamber door sounded and Jamie peeked his
head in. “Are ye ready, Serena? I have yer father’s sword.” The boy, now
proudly wearing a midnight blue tunic bearing a snarling red wolf, hefted a
sword nearly three feet long. According to their custom, there would be an
exchange of the weapons following the priest’s blessing. Renaud would give her
his longer, ancestral sword, one he told her he held in reserve, and she would
give him a weapon to symbolize his protection of her and their children.

She had chosen her father’s sword, retrieved by his men
after he’d fallen at Hastings. Shorter than a Norman sword and lighter and more
flexible, it was the final symbol of her acceptance that she was the willing
bride of Sir Renaud de Pierrepont, now Earl of Talisand.

“You can come in, Jamie,” said Serena. “We are nearly
finished.”

Jamie stepped through the door, hefting what for him was a
heavy sword. He stood admiring the polished metal. “Did ye know, Serena, that
the Red Wolf saved my life at Exeter?”

“Yea, Sir Geoffroi told me. How did it happen?”

“He took an arrow for me.” The boy’s eyes glowed with
adoration as he spoke of his lord. Then with a sheepish look he added, “I was
in the wrong place.”

“You like him?” she asked, though it was clear from the
boy’s face that he did.

“I do! And I am happy ye are to be his wife.” Jamie
carefully set the polished sword on the chest at the foot of the bed and walked
to where Cassie lay, obviously happy to see her awake. Taking her hand, he
asked, “How are ye, Cassie?”

“Getting better,” Cassie said with a weak smile.

“Is not Serena beautiful?” he asked the bedridden woman as
he turned to stare at Serena’s gown.

“Aye, lad, she is.”

Then to Serena, he said proudly, “I’m to lead ye down.”

“Ye’re dressed for it,” said Aethel as she placed the cloak
of purple velvet over Serena’s shoulders, securing it with the sapphire jeweled
brooch Renaud had given her. She would have expected the gift the morning after
the wedding night, but Renaud had seen fit to place the gold circle set with
sapphires in her hand as he rose from their bed that morning. The gesture had
caused her cheeks to burn reminding her, as it did, of all they had shared. But
since she’d given him her maidenhead, she supposed it was right that his gift
should follow.

Along with the brooch, he’d given her a pouch of gold coins,
and told her she would also have title to one of the manors and its surrounding
land. As a husband’s gift, it was generous, though she could not help but
recall that all of Talisand would have been Steinar’s save for the coming of
the Normans.

At Renaud’s request, she had worn her hair unplaited and
without covering save for the circlet of silver and gold her father had given
her which Eawyn placed on her head.

Dressed in her finery, the women pronounced her ready, and
she followed Jamie down the stairs.

* * *

Renaud watched his bride slowly descending the stairs to the
manor’s entry where he waited surrounded by his senior knights.
She is mine!

Once again, Serena appeared like a queen, this time in a
shimmering gown of blue framed by a purple cloak thrown back over her
shoulders, his gift of the gold sapphire-studded brooch secured at her neck. He
preferred to imagine her as she was that morning when he’d left their bed:
sleepy, naked and tumbled from his lovemaking. Never before had his soul merged
with a woman, but he was certain it had happened with Serena when they joined
as one flesh.

He could hardly wait for his wedding night.

“My lady,” he said, offering her his hand. “You are a vision
for this humble knight’s eyes to feast upon.” Then his mouth twitched up in a
grin. “I was half worried you would appear dressed as a lad.”

She laughed and placed her hand over his. “And embarrass my
husband? Nay, I would not.”

He was glad she could accept his teasing on this day that
would see her wed to a Norman in the eyes of the church. Mayhap she no longer
resented him. He could only hope.

His knights moved aside as he and Serena walked to the door
Geoff held open. Jamie, beaming a smile for his lord, took his place next to
the senior knight.

“The priest awaits us at the entrance to the chapel,” he
said to Serena as he led her into the yard.

All of Talisand turned out to celebrate the marriage of
their lady to the Red Wolf. The yard was filled with his men and the villagers.
He well knew some of them came out of curiosity. But the averted eyes of others
told him there were still some who were unhappy their lady had been forced to
wed a Norman. They should have drawn comfort in the knowledge that at least one
member of the thegn’s family remained to see to their needs.

The crowd parted as he and Serena proceeded through the
village to the chapel where Father Bernard waited for them in front of the
doors. Renaud stopped before the priest, who covered their hands with his and
began to speak.

Father Bernard talked of the Master of the Heavens’ love for
his children and the importance of the gift of marriage. They were simple words
but significant in their meaning. Then he blessed their union.

The ceremony concluded, Renaud slipped a gold ring on her
finger and whispered, “
Seulement l'amour entre nous
.” Only love between
us. The words he’d had engraved inside the ring.

She looked up startled. He had never uttered the word “love”
to her before. Mayhap he did not give his heart now, but he wanted no strife,
no rancor between them. He was not certain there would be love. As Geoff had
said, only time would tell if she could be trusted. And for Renaud to love
would demand his trust.

He turned and, with his palms outstretched, accepted from
Mathieu the long Norman sword of his family, the hilt carved with intricate
designs and decorated with rubies, emeralds and sapphires.

Looking into Serena’s eyes, more violet because of the cloak
she wore, he said, “I give you this sword to hold for our sons.”

She solemnly thanked him and accepted the sword onto her own
palms and handed it to the tall blond Theodric, who now served Renaud. Since
Exeter the English guard had cut his hair in the Norman style and now looked
like one of them.

Serena faced Jamie who held in his palms the same sword
Renaud had seen him holding earlier, a shorter Saxon weapon.

Laying it carefully across Renaud’s welcoming palms, with
tear filled eyes, Serena said, “This was the sword of my father. It represents
the honor of the thegn and that of the people he loved. With this sword, keep
our home safe.”

Meeting her gaze, he promised, “I will.”

With the words spoken, Renaud handed the sword she had given
him to Geoff. Then he took her hand and led her from the church back to the
manor. Along the way, they were greeted by the smiles of the people of Talisand
who were pleased with the marriage. He snatched glimpses of her smiling at the
villagers and his men and rejoiced that his beautiful bride loved the people of
Talisand, now his people. If he could only trust her, she would be a worthy
helpmate.

The celebration that followed was much lighter in spirit.
Both mead and ale flowed freely as all work was set aside for the rest of the
day to allow for eating, drinking, music and dancing. His men had hunted the
day before enabling them to dine on fresh fowl and venison. Even a lamb had
been slaughtered for the feast spread before the people who crowded into the
hall.

Renaud looked down the high table to see Geoff on Maugris’
other side with the dark-haired Eawyn. The two seemed to be acting good
friends, though Renaud knew his fellow knight hoped they would one day wed. On
the other side of Serena sat Sir Maurin, who every now and then looked toward
the wide opening that led to the manor and to his lady love still abed.

Before them, the Welsh bard entertained all with his lively
music, accompanied by the lyre, a reed instrument Serena told him was a shawm,
a drum and a pipe whistle. The bard kept darting glances at Serena, as he
strolled among the wedding guests singing his Welsh tunes, which caused Renaud
to wonder what still lay between them.

At the high table, Maugris kept them entertained with
stories of other brides and bridegrooms, including the story of Renaud’s
parents’ wedding. Though he had heard it before the story still held a kind of
charm for him. It was, by all accounts, the one time his stern father had
allowed himself to appear besotted. The wise one delighted in retelling the
story and said Renaud’s father would be quite pleased with the turn of events
at Talisand.

“I must send your father and brothers an account of your
success and your beautiful bride,” said the wise one.

Renaud didn’t smile. He wondered, instead, if he was yet
successful. He had claimed his bride, but there was still Morcar and Sir Hugue
to contend with. And what of Serena’s brother? Might he show up any day with a
band of wild Scots to protest what had happened to his sister and try and
retake his lands?

* * *

Aethel heard the lively music drifting up from the wedding
celebration to the bedchamber where she kept watch on the handmaiden. She did
not mind missing the gaiety. It was meager penance for her part in Morcar’s
scheme and her failure to see that Serena had changed her mind and was truly
resigned to marrying the Red Wolf. With a shudder, Aethel reflected on what
might still happen to her if the Red Wolf were to learn of her perfidy.

I pray, in time, all will be forgiven.

A quiet knock drew Aethel’s eyes to the door, which opened
to reveal the hulking form of Sir Alain.

“If ye’re here to see Cassie, she’s sleeping.”

“Nay, Aethel. I am here to see you.”

The big, burly knight stepped into the room making the
chamber seem smaller. “Me?”

“Aye.” He reached back and closed the door, darting a glance
at the sleeping handmaiden before he slowly walked toward Aethel. “When I heard
that the guards had been given a potion, I immediately thought of you with your
knowledge of herbs. It was you, was it not?”

She rose from the bench. “I meant her no harm. I thought she
wanted to leave.”

“Does Lady Serena know of your involvement?”

“Yea, she does,” Aethel said contritely. “I think she has
forgiven me.”

“All that to the good, it is time you had a husband to keep
you from further mischief, Aethel.”

She looked into his hazel eyes and decided with not even a
kiss between them that she wanted him to be that husband. “Mayhap ye are right,
sir knight.”

“Aye, I am.” He closed the small distance between them,
wrapped his powerful arms around her and, drawing her close, kissed her.

She knew then she would never want another man.

* * *

Serena could not take her eyes off her husband. He had come
to their wedding magnificently attired like the Norman lord he now was. He wore
a tunic of the darkest blue over a cream undertunic and brown hosen
crisscrossed by leather straps. On his feet were short leather boots. At his
waist was a belt of silver to which was secured a scramaseax; the handle of the
long knife was studded with silver. Around his neck was a wide necklace of gold
and silver bejeweled with the same stones that decorated the sword he had given
her. On his head was a black velvet cap that gave him a regal appearance with
the chestnut waves of his hair curling at his nape. The warrior was cloaked and
the earl revealed in all his splendor. Admittedly, he was a magnificent
exemplar of a man.

“My lord, you appear as one on his way to your king’s
court,” said Serena, unable to resist a grin.

Setting down his goblet of silver, he smiled. “And would you
look forward to a visit to William’s court,
wife
?”

Serena stared at their shared trencher. “Nay, I confess I
would not.”