His Fair Lady (43 page)

“I will promise you this, Juliana, I will
keep our secret for now and will leave the choice with you as to
what shall be done about our vows in time to come.”

“Then, I can ask no more. Best call in
Father Andrew and proceed, lest any new twist of fate befall us
today.”

Sir Royce pressed a kiss to her forehead,
then moved to the door and ushered in the priest. Father Andrew
addressed Juliana and Sir Royce briefly on the weightiness of their
vows, then instructed them to repeat the words of betrothal,
requiring they pledge to take each other to husband and to wife in
the future, “if the Holy Church consents.”

As Juliana and Sir Royce affirmed they
would, the priest next called for the rings of betrothal. To her
surprise, Sir Royce produced a gold band with flowers carved round
it and slipped it onto her finger. Satisfied, Father Andrew blessed
their espousal and withdrew from the chamber.

Juliana found herself alone once more with
Sir Royce, their hands still joined as they stood in the center of
the tiny chamber, its prominent piece of furniture a bed for two.
She grew heated in the heavy mantle she wore, her gaze fixed on the
floor, knowing what they now must do.

»«

Juliana grew charmingly shy before Royce’s
eyes, cocooning herself in her mantle. As he drank in her exquisite
beauty, he reminded himself ‘twas to be her first joining, the
moment thrust upon her, the circumstance far from what any maiden
might desire.

He vowed in that moment to make the
experience as agreeable for her as possible. How fragile she
seemed, as she stood before him, her lashes lowered, her shoulders
trembling. Royce tipped up her chin with his fingertip, coaxing her
to look at him.

“Juliana, how much do you know of what
passes between a man and a woman?”

Skittish as a doe, her eyes met his
briefly then darted away. “Only what
mere
Marie told me, a few days before I was to
wed.”

He frowned at that, finding little
encouragement there. ‘Twas likely Juliana was as chaste in mind as
she was in
body. Bedding her without frightening her
was going to be a challenge.

“Perhaps you would care for something to
relax you. I’ve brought ale from Penhurst, if you prefer it.”

Juliana shook her head. Shutting her eyes,
she stood rigid as a marble column and just as straight. “Nay, no
ale. I’ll be fine. Let’s see this done with.”

Royce smiled inwardly, touched by her
innocence as well as by her courage. At the same time he felt his
own tensions ease. There was but one solution for this night — to
lead with his heart.

“Juliana, look at me.” He took her
face gently in his hands. “I am not going to attack you like some
animal. I’m going to make love to you.
We
are going to make love.”

“We?” Her eyes flew open to his.

“Aye, we. ‘Tis the only true way for a man
and a woman to join together as one and to seek their
pleasure.”

“Pleasure?” A look of disbelief appeared in
her eyes, then she flushed prettily. “I suppose there is that for
the man. Are you sure you wish to do this? Make love to me, that
is?”

“More than sure, my Juliana.”
More than you could possibly imagine, my
heart.

He smiled, then skimmed his hand over her
lustrous hair and the thick braid draped over her shoulder. His
attention drew to the ribbons securing the braid. He tugged on the
satiny strips and freed them one by one.

“You revealed to me, not long ago, how you’d
prayed for me through these years. How you longed for my
return.”

“‘
Tis true,” she said in a small
voice, her gaze returning to his.

“I am here, Juliana, and you are my
betrothed. Do you trust me?”

She nodded, her green eyes darkening as he
began slowly loosening her braid, freeing her tresses from their
confinement.

“Will you trust me — now, in this moment,
and for the hours to come?”

She went perfectly still. So still,
Royce thought she’d stopped breathing. But then she lifted her
hands to her
throat and opened her mantle. Slipping it
from her shoulders, she let it drop to the floor.

Juliana trembled as she stood before him in
her thin chemise, the fabric transparent before the fire’s light.
Royce’s blood fired in his veins as he gazed upon her — her breasts
visible through the light veil of linen, as was the outline of her
legs. His cross hung suspended about her neck. This time, rather
than curbing his ardor, it called to mind the many ties that bound
them — important as any, the vows they’d just spoken.

“I trust you.” Juliana’s soft voice drew his
gaze back to hers. “Above all others, I trust you, Royce.”

Her words filled him, warmed him.
“Then do not fear me, my heart.” He drew the lustrous
fall of hair from her shoulder, then traced his fingertips
over her slender neck. “I only wish to love you,
Juliana.”

Her lips tilted in a smile at that. She took
his hand and drew it to her breast, offering him her silent answer,
offering him herself.

His heart brimmed with love for this woman.
Gathering Juliana to him, Royce’s mouth descended over hers,
claiming her with his kiss. He explored her lips, savored their
softness, forcing himself to proceed slowly, though in truth, he
yearned to devour her whole.

Relishing the weight of her breast in his
hand, he began to caress her, grazing her nipple with his thumb,
then stroking circles around its tight, tender bud. She gasped at
his touch, her lips parting. Royce waited no invitation, but
plundered the recesses of her mouth, tasting, probing, mating her
tongue with his.

Juliana met him haltingly at first, then
more daringly, as she joined him in a sensuous dance of tongues. He
felt her body lean into his, her womanly softness yielding against
his solid frame.

As Royce continued his seduction, his hand
left her breast to slide down her spine. Cupping her sweet
backside, he pressed her hips against him, bringing her into
contact with his burgeoning desire. She started at first, but he
held her firm, deeming it important she know something of what was
to come, of what to expect. Soon, her resistance dissolved, her
body softening against him once more. Juliana’s arms twined about
him as she gave herself to the pleasure of their kisses.

Aching to hold her warm flesh, Royce eased
up her chemise, then slipped his hand beneath. Sweeping his palm
upward over her bare hip and waist, he sought her breast once
again. Briefly, he teased the taut globe of her nipple, then
abandoning her lips, he lifted the fabric, uncovering her lush
treasure, and took her in his mouth.

“R-Royce,” Juliana moaned as a liquid heat
passed through her, pooling between her legs. She gripped hold of
Royce, certain her bones would melt as he cherished one, then the
other, of her breasts. Her skin tingled, vibrantly alive and
sensitive to his touch. Hazily, she realized he was drawing off her
gown and next found herself naked in his arms. Embarrassed, Juliana
started to cover herself with her hands but he pulled them
away.

“Do not hide, Juliana. You are beautiful.
Let me see you — all of you.”

Her heart beat wildly as Royce drank in the
sight of her, nothing withheld from him, her every pore exposed.
Desire burned in his eyes, near scorching her with its intensity.
In the next breath, he recaptured her mouth with his. Slipping his
arms behind her knees, he swept her off the floor, into his arms,
and carried her to the bed.

Juliana felt the mattress give beneath her
as Royce lay her upon it then covered her with his body. He
ravished her with kisses, loving her with his mouth and tongue.
Leaving her lips, he began a downward journey, trailing a fiery
path to the hollow of her throat and over her shoulders. He paused
to feast on her breasts before shifting lower to lave his
attentions on her stomach and abdomen.

Juliana squirmed when he continued lower
still, tracing his tongue over her thighs, behind her knees, down
to her ankles. Pressing kisses upward again, he moved slowly,
tormentingly, toward her most secret place. She ceased to breathe
as she thought he would touch her there. Instead, he rose
momentarily, ridding himself of his clothes, leaving her aching and
on fire for him.

She dropped her gaze away as Royce
undressed, but then curiosity overcame modesty and her eyes drew to
him. He stood with his back to her as he divested himself of the
last of his garments — his chausses and braies. As her gaze
traveled over his hard length, she thought him magnificently
sculpted, leastwise from behind. He turned toward her then, their
eyes meeting. Juliana glimpsed only the muscled planes of his chest
and shoulders as he moved quickly to rejoin her, flesh searing
flesh as he did.

Royce drew her into a deep kiss, their naked
lengths pressed together. Juliana fought her shyness. Had she not
longed for this moment, when Royce would return from the East and
claim her as his own? She’d not deny her love for this man, or her
desire for him, nor allow timidity to get in the way. Suddenly
impatient to touch him, Juliana spread her hands over his chest,
then along his rib cage. Exploring his back, she roamed downward
toward his buttocks, but her fingertips reached only midway.

How wondrously he was made, she thought,
then realized Royce smiled at her. As she returned his smile, he
kissed her deeply, then initiated another downward journey.
Currents of fire traveled through her as he possessed her breasts.
At the same time his fingers caressed the sensitive flesh of her
inner thighs, teasing her legs apart. As she allowed him the access
he sought, he covered her feminine mound with his palm and began to
massage her there.

“Do you trust me, Juliana?” He spread kisses
over her stomach.

“Yes,” she whispered, her pulse
skittering.

As he continued to massage her, she felt a
throbbing response between her legs and pressed against Royce’s
hand. Instantly, shockingly, he slipped his fingers inside her.
Juliana bolted against him, but he persisted in his invasion,
stroking her intimately, unrelentingly, awakening an array of new
senses within her and commanding each one. Some part of her brain
told her she should protest, but as pleasure spread through her
feminine core, her body wantonly craved more. She opened to Royce
fully, like the petals of a blossom, welcoming his possession.

Royce caressed Juliana’s swollen desire, his
own need near to bursting, his hold on himself tenuous. As he
brought her to the brink of fulfillment, she writhed beneath him,
her breaths coming short and quick.

“Juliana, do you give yourself to me?” he
rasped, continuing to love her with his fingers, at the same time
settling himself between her legs.

“Yes, please . . . Royce . . .” Her nails
dug into his back and she moaned against him.

Royce set his jaw. Drawing her legs around
him, he pressed into her, met the dread barrier, then drove forward
with one swift thrust and sheathed himself in her. Juliana cried
out, her hips arching against him, forcing him deeper inside. Royce
stilled, struggling to master himself as they both lay panting,
Juliana’s femininity clamped tight around him, searing hot. He
began quieting her with his kisses.

“There will be no more pain, my darling. We
are one.”

“I am no longer a virgin?” she asked
breathlessly. “We are done?” Disappointment traced her features,
bringing a smile to Royce’s lips.

“Nay, Juliana, we’ve only just begun.”

His blood flowing hot and thick, Royce loved
her anew, savoring her breasts and bringing gasps to her lips as he
began to move inside her. Guiding her hips with his hands, he
rocked her against him, setting the pace. Their breaths quickened
as on and on they strove together in an age-old rhythm, faster and
faster. Suddenly, Juliana’s eyes flew wide.

“Royce!” She convulsed against him, gripping
him covetously as spasms overtook her, catapulting her to another
realm.

Juliana’s contractions carried Royce with
her, triggering his own climax. Surging against her, he joined her
in that fiery ecstasy, roaring as the twin sensations of pain and
pleasure ripped through him, and he began emptying himself into his
beloved.

Together they rode their passions to
rapturous heights, their hearts afire, as their bodies and souls
melded to one.

“Sir Royce, you pace like a man whose wife is
ready to give birth. The physicks do but examine your bride. Here,
have a goblet of wine. They’ll not disturb your sporting ground,
you have my word.”

Royce turned on his heel, his gaze meeting
the king’s grinning face. The sly fox well knew the source of his
unrest. ‘Twas King John, himself, who’d manipulated last night’s
events like a master puppeteer.

Not that Royce was complaining of the
passion he’d shared with Juliana. Their union had been astounding,
unimaginably satisfying, in spirit as well as body. But ‘twas
Juliana’s first sexual experience. He despised that she must now
undergo this crude, personal inspection — that she must disrobe,
even if partially, for these men’s prying eyes. Royce didn’t care
if they were royal physicians, the entire affair made his blood
boil. Juliana must be mortified, and there was naught he could do
about it.

If his concerns for her were not enough,
Royce knew ‘twould be obvious Juliana had forfeited her maidenhead
to him brief hours ago. She’d still be healing, likely inflamed,
from the act. Then, too, she carried his seed. Should the physicks
openly announce as much, Royce might next find himself crossing
swords with Rennart de Friston, posturing as the outraged kinsman
and demanding recompense.