The Faithful Heart (38 page)

“Give me just a moment to prepare them.”
Father Joseph, who had resigned himself to the odd marriages and
was now brimming with good-cheer, walked ahead of them down the
church’s main aisle and into a side room.

“No offense or nothin’, MP, but what’s all
the rush about?” Jack slipped his arm around her waist as they
reached the front of the church and waited.

“Don’t worry about it,” Madeline answered
with growing anxiety.

Jack’s smile slipped. “Why, is there
somethin’ I should be worrying about?”

She gave him a short, tight shake of her
head.

His humor disappeared completely. “He is a
real priest, right? You’re not trying to pull one over on-”

She grabbed the back of his head and pulled
him down for a kiss. He tensed for a moment then closed his arms
around her and kissed her back.

“Oh, I get it.” He broke the kiss with a
smirk. “It’s all the bits after the wedding that you’re eager to
get on with, isn’t it?”

She let out a nervous giggle and kissed him
again. Come to think of it, that was as good a reason as any as she
could think of. His arms were warm, his hands mischievous, and it
felt so right to meld against him that for a moment she lost track
of why she was so worried to begin with.

“I love you, Jack,” she whispered when he let
her breathe.

“An’ you know I love you more than
anything.”

She was about to kiss him again when Lydia’s
derisive snort killed the mood. “If you can’t wait like a gentlemen
why don’t you go out back and rut with her in a ditch like the rest
of the filthy peasants.”

Jack’s body went rock-hard in Madeline’s
arms. He straightened and twisted towards Lydia.

“Don’t!” Madeline whispered against his ear.
“Not yet.”

He glared at Lydia with hatred in his eyes
like nothing Madeline had ever seen. “You’ll get what’s coming to
you.”

Lydia laughed.

“Jack, stop.” Madeline tugged on him. She
reached up and put a hand on his face, turning him to look at her.
He resisted at first before giving in. She met his eyes and held
them. “Don’t say anything. Don’t do anything. Just … wait.
Breathe.”

Her last instruction might have been the most
important one. Jack closed his eyes and took a breath. She smoothed
her hands down his arms and took his hands.

“What’s taking so long?” Lydia huffed.

Jack’s eyes flew open but he didn’t have time
to lay into Lydia again. Father Joseph walked back into the
nave.

“If you’re ready you can step into the
scriptorium to sign the-”

Before he could finish Lydia tore past him
into the side room. She didn’t even wait for Simon. Jack was almost
as eager to get on with things. He took Madeline’s arm and rushed
her into the small room. Simon stepped aside, bowing his head, to
let them pass.

“Oy, no need to mess with that.” Jack slapped
his arm. “You’re miles above me now, mate.”

Simon didn’t reply. He arched an eyebrow at
Madeline.

“Thank you, Simon,” Madeline whispered as she
passed him, touching his arm with her free hand. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s no more than I deserve, my lady.” He
lowered his eyes and followed them to the table at the far end of
the room.

Lydia was already bent over scratching out
her name on the parchment. “There!” She straightened with a happy
chirp and held the pen out to Simon.

“What was he talking about?” Jack muttered to
Madeline as Simon crossed to take up the pen and sign away his
freedom.

Madeline’s heart hammered into her throat as
Simon scratched out his name and stood back to give the pen to
Father Joseph. Father Joseph took it and the parchment, whisking it
to another table to fix the Church’s seal on Simon and Lydia’s
union. At last Madeline let out a breath. It was done.

“Simon! Simon where are you going?” Lydia
barked as Simon turned on his heel and marched out of the room.

“I’m going home. I have work to do,” he
answered without looking back.

“You’re what? Simon wait!” She dashed after
him, bumping into the edge of the table where Father Joseph worked,
causing him to spill red sealing wax across the marriage document
like blood.

Madeline bit her lip, sad beyond reasoning in
the midst of her happiness.

“Good riddance,” Jack breathed in relief.
“Right, where do I sign?”

As Madeline followed Jack to the table and
signed where Father Joseph indicated the exhaustion of winning a
long, emotional war took over. She set the pen down and all but
fell into Jack’s arms. He kissed her for a moment and then just
held her, resting his head against the side of hers, his weight
heavy against her.

“If you’ll excuse me.” Crispin interrupted
their moment. Madeline had forgotten he was there. “I haven’t seen
my wife in more than a month.”

“We’ll walk you back to the castle, mate.”
Jack stood on his own feet, his arm still around Madeline’s waist.
“Oy! I still got a room at the castle, don’t I? We’re not
completely homeless are we?”

Crispin exchanged a look with Madeline before
slapping Jack on the back and saying, “You’re still my
bailiff.”

The three of them made their way through the
streets of Derby to the castle. Darkness had fallen but it could
have been midday for all the joy in Madeline’s heart. True to
Jack’s prediction, Aubrey was furious when they met her at the
castle. As furious as she could be learning that her closest
friends had married against the odds and that Crispin was home. She
only had time for a few choice words before Crispin swept her into
his arms and kissed her into silence.

The reunion was short and ended with Jack
sending a group of the castle servants off to bring food and a bath
up to his room in the High Tower.

“They hate it when anyone makes them lug
water up all them stairs,” he winked as they climbed the stairs
themselves, “but I bloody well think we deserve it after all we’ve
been through.”

Madeline wasn’t sure how she, or Jack for
that matter, found the patience to sit still on the foot of the
bed, peeling their boots off while a dozen servants brought a large
wooden tub and bucket after bucket of warm water into the room to
fill it. Butterflies filled her stomach as well, and by the time
the servants finished with the tub and laid a table with a small
feast they had reached a roar.

“Right,” Jack turned to her with an impish
twinkle in his gray eyes once they were finally alone. “Looks to me
like you got a choice here, MP.”

“Oh?” She cursed her voice for wavering.

“Yes.” He scooped her up and drew her across
his lap. He traced his fingers over her cheek and ear. His touch
sent shivers into her core. “As I see it, you got a choice between
food, a bath, and my personal favorite, this big, glorious bed.” He
dipped his lips closer to hers, sliding his nose alongside hers.
“So what’s it gonna be?”

Her body knew its answer and shouted it loud
and clear at her. She pressed into him, capturing his lips and
kissing them as though she made kissing a habit. He responded
eagerly to her hunger, covering her breast with his hand. That
wasn’t enough. He teased his fingers to tug at the laces of her
vest, working them loose so that he could slide a hand inside. She
wanted more, wanted him to touch her as no one had before. She
wanted to feel him as well and pulled at the fastenings of his
tunic so she could match his eager exploration. Still, the soft
linen of his shirt was too much of a barrier for her.

“I see how it is,” he whispered against her
ear and stood, setting her on her feet.

He yanked the tunic off over his head and
tossed it to the floor. His shirt followed, leaving his strong
chest bare in the firelight. The slightest hint of ginger hair gave
him a warm touchable glow. She leaned into him, breath coming in
short gasps, and laid her palms on his flesh. It felt so good to
touch him at last. She brought her mouth down on his shoulders,
tasting him, sucking the salt from his skin, exploring the lines
and scars that were so foreign and yet somehow so familiar to her
with her hands and mouth.

When her lips strayed down to tease one of
his nipples he let out a laugh that set her body trembling. “Good
God, MP! Where did you learn that?” He reached under her arms and
drew her up.

She stood on her toes, face to face with him,
her fingers rising to play in her hair. “I don’t know,” she shook
her head. “I only know that I’ve been waiting for this, for you,
for my whole life.”

His expression softened to such longing that
all Madeline could do was close her eyes and let him kiss her until
her soul was transported. His fingers went to work pulling out the
laces of her vest and loosening her shirt. She was so lost in the
wonder of the new sensations his touch brought her that he had to
nudge her to lower her arms so that he could push the vest over her
shoulders, and then raise them so that he could draw her shirt up
over her head.

She opened her eyes when he let out a ragged
sigh. His heavy-lidded gaze was fixed on her chest, but not because
of her small breasts that were now exposed to him. He reached out a
trembling hand and touched the beads of her rosary, his rosary,
that rested safe against her freckled skin.

“You kept them,” his voice cracked as he slid
his hand between the beads and her breasts.

“Of course I kept them,” she laid her hand
over his. “They mean everything to me.”

He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “You mean
everything to me.”

He pulled her close to kiss her. The intimacy
of skin on skin, his firm body melding with her slight one, left
her light-headed. This was the way things were supposed to be.

“Right then,” Jack leaned back and took a
breath. “I see you’ve made your decision.”

“Yes, I have,” she replied breathlessly,
leaning in to kiss him again.

“A bath it is!” he dodged her lips.

She gasped at his evasion and at the sudden
rush of air between them as he stepped away. “Jack!”

“I love a good bath!” he smirked at her and
tugged at the ties of his chausses. “Almost but not quite as much
as nuns.” Her hands flew to her mouth when she realized what she
was about to see. His eyes flashed with wickedness. “Oy, you better
get used to looking at my naughty bits in all their glory, MP. I
intend to be naked around you a lot in the future.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, even more so
when he shucked his chausses and small clothes in one handful and
his penis sprung happy and shining up to salute her. He kicked his
clothes aside and stood with his hands on his hips, one eyebrow
raised at her.

“It’s never that funny, MP.”

“I can’t help it,” she took her hand from her
mouth long enough to speak. “I’ve never seen anything like it in my
life.” She stared and stared at him, too jubilant and nervous not
to giggle.

“Oh yeah?” he swaggered closer to her,
bobbing with each step. “Good.” He reached her and pulled her close
for another kiss. That funny part of him rubbed against the
half-exposed flesh of her belly and suddenly it was the most
wonderful thing she’d ever felt, not funny at all. She was about to
reach for it when he broke the kiss and said, “Right. Your turn,”
and started tugging at the ties of the chausses she wore. She
sucked in a breath as the part of her that was about to be revealed
hummed with need. “You know, I can’t say I’ve ever taken off
someone else’s chausses before,” he winked at her.

She dissolved into giggles again. Those
giggles turned into a loud sigh as he undid the last tie and pushed
the material down her legs. He held her and teased the soft flesh
of her thighs as she stepped out of the worn old clothes. He’d
touched her there, like that before, the day she had first seen
Kedleridge. She hadn’t been ready then and he’d scared her out of
her wits. Now she was more than ready. She reached for his hand and
nudged it up to the tingling juncture of her thighs.

His response was everything she’d hoped for.
His hand pressed into her, his fingers delving deep into her folds.
A rough moan escaped her throat when he slid a finger inside of
her. She gripped his shoulders as a second joined it, stroking
inside of her and making it impossible for her to catch her
breath.

“Does that hurt?” he whispered.

She blinked, ready to answer no, but come to
think of it, the way he stretched her did sting a bit. “No,” she
answered anyhow.

One twitch of his eyebrow and she could tell
he knew she was lying.

“Bath time,” he growled, pulling his hand
away and picking her up.

He stepped into the tepid water with her and
sat. He positioned her legs on either side of his hips. The
position was anything but relaxing. Her body was restless for
completion and in spite of her best efforts to stay still as he
rubbed soap and water over her she wriggled against him.

“God, MP, you’re gonna make me finish before
we’ve even got started!” he groaned and pushed her hips away from
his by a few inches.

“What?” She barely heard herself speak. She
was too focused on touching him, scrubbing her hands over his
shoulders, arms, and chest. He didn’t really need washing, she just
wanted to feel his body. Every inch of it. Even the fresh scars on
his back.

He was massaging soap through her short hair
when she reached for his hard penis, closing her hand around the
shaft and stroking up. He gasped and jerked.

“Oh!” she snapped her hand back. “Did I hurt
you?”

He laughed, sinking lower in the water and
leaning his head against the back of the tub. “Not quite.”

He was the most delicious, perplexing mystery
she had ever encountered. She sunk into the water with him, unable
to resist the urge to slide her hips closer to his until the
aching, urgent part of her rubbed against his hardness.