The Holding - Book 1 in The Medieval Knights Series (31 page)

She could scarce believe that any man could call forth such ringing pleasure with his hands; nor could she believe that a woman's body could experience such depth of feeling. She had believed, and had not been discouraged in believing, that the pleasure of sexual union belonged to the man and the pain of childbirth to the woman, as her price for the fall of man in his relationship with God the Father. So wrongly she had believed. So much did she yearn to feel William's hands upon her again, to feel his touch upon her breast and his tongue flicking against...

With a slow smile, she stretched her legs fully and her arms above her head, arching her breasts upward. She looked as languorous as a cat, though William would hardly have said so aloud. She looked like a woman well pleased, and he could not help smiling at her.

As he was smiling down on her, his look as washed of arrogance as he could make it, she flipped over and landed upon his stomach, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You awoke me with your touch, my lord, and so I reply with a kiss, and another, and another..." She giggled, kissing his face, his throat, his chest, and any and all parts of him she could reach with ease.

He was astounded. Cathryn was far now from the lady who surveyed all with an emotionless eye and a cool retort. She had been reborn last night as a woman who exuded a licking heat with her sultry smile and sent sparks of sensuality with every look from her dark and shining eyes. When he had breached her defenses, every last one of her defenses, he had hoped to soften her. He had had no thought as to the warmth and gaiety that lay beneath the ice.

Cathryn had not only been unleashed; she had been uncollared.

"And here is a kiss for bruising your Frankish pride concerning the wealth of your portion." She kissed his ear, causing him to shiver. "And one for teasing you about your eating habits." She kissed his throat. "And for remarking upon your lack of humility." She kissed his furry chest. "And for being so slow in attending you at your bath. I fear I have much to apologize for in offending your tender, Frankish sensibilities, do I not?" In finale, she kissed her husband quickly on the mouth before moving down to settle comfortably upon his massive chest.

William ran his hands up and down Cathryn's back, enjoying the silken smoothness of her skin beneath his hands. She was transformed, and he was the man responsible for it; he had never been so pleased with both his effort and the result. She was more than he had dared hope for in a wife. He had little thought to find such warmth in the woman who had opened Greneforde's gate to him.

"Strange is the manner in which the English make amends for their misdeeds and thoughtlessly spoken words," he said, his gray eyes sparkling with reflected sunlight from the open wind hole. "In France, we render each apology with solemnity and grace, taking the time needed to truly heal the wound."

Cathryn laughed and rolled away from him to lie upon her own side of the bed. Crossing her arms behind her head, she stared at the ceiling and declared, "Short and sweetly to the point is the only way I know to apologize for deeds," and then added, "once thought to be misdeeds."

William rolled until his weight settled atop her, his furred chest tickling her nipples to urgent life.

"'Tis as I thought," he declared into her unrepentant face. "The English are too blunt in their manner, and you, wife, are my latest proof. Your culture is a strange one and in need of shoring up lest you sink back into barbarism. We French have been known to be so eloquent in our dialogue that our listeners are often rendered speechless."

"Perhaps, my lord—" she smiled widely—"they were not speechless, but instead unconscious?"

William braced his weight with bulging arms on either side of Cathryn's shoulders and looked down into her sparkling brown eyes with stern severity.

"And with those blunt and uncourtly words, you owe me another apology, wife, and I will have it in the Frankish fashion. And I do promise you," he said as his mouth descended upon hers, "you will stay awake for the whole of it."

* * *

The morn was far gone by the time Cathryn sat upon the stool plaiting her hair, not that she cared overmuch about her tardiness. Her time with William had been too sweetly spent to allow the time lost to curdle the rest of the day. She could live beneath the power and pleasure of his hands for the rest of her days and be glad for the opportunity, but there was no ignoring the duties that called to them both. It was with a light heart that she answered Marie's timid knock and ushered her in.

"Oh, Marie, I am glad that you have come. My hair is one long tangle and I need your gentle help in righting it," Cathryn said, smiling.

"Yea, certainly I will help," Marie answered slowly, both relieved and confused, happy and surprised, to see Cathryn in such good health and buoyant spirits. It was far from what she had anticipated.

As Marie worked the comb through the tangles that ranged down Cathryn's back, she said, "I am relieved to see you this day. I was anxious when you did not arise with the dawn."

Cathryn smiled and ducked her head. "My sleep was disrupted last night and left me much fatigued. My lord... encouraged me to stay abed this mom. I did not think you would worry, but there was no cause."

"Yea, and so John told me when I asked him about it," Marie began, making steady progress with her lady's hair, "but when Ulrich told me that Lord William had forbidden him to enter this chamber when you were here together, I worried all the more, suspecting that he had, that he would…" Marie blushed and could not finish.

Cathryn lifted her head and stared wide-eyed into the fire. "What, in specific, gave you cause to worry?" she asked.

"Why, I thought I heard a woman cry out last night and swore the voice was yours, lady," Marie answered. "When I spoke of it to John and Ulrich, they admitted that they had heard such a scream as well, but when I questioned Lan, he said he had heard nothing, and Alys said she thought that she heard a high-pitched wail but would not describe it as a scream. Still," she continued, "I was sore afraid that harm had befallen you, but none who heard the sound would share the fear with me. I am glad that they were in the right and I in the wrong."

Cathryn's mouth hung open. They all had heard her! They had heard her cry out her killing pleasure when William had her spread out beneath his hands and tongue, bucking and writhing like a thing gone wild... They all knew! All except Marie, who in her ignorance and her concern had spread the tale to all, including those who had not heard.

She would never leave this chamber again.

Never.

But that would make it worse, for then the tongues would truly fly concerning her and her scream... for it had been a scream, no cry, but a scream in full. She had been cast from a cliff, and a scream was warranted in such a circumstance. It was most reasonable, thinking back upon it, when at the time there had been no reasoning at all.

Marie had finished with her hair and was just tying the ribbons. She must be up and about her day. There was no choice in that. She could not hide for the rest of her days in this cold room, though she did most sincerely wish she could. No, that was a child's escape, and she was no child.

Especially after last night.

Cathryn drew her cloak of composure about her, and it was a cold, cold cloak now. It was most difficult to pull it up and most difficult to keep in place, but she must. She could in no way face them all without it; but it was a misery after the warmth and laughter William had shown her.

She left the chamber and descended the stairs slowly, not knowing what she would face, expecting the worst—prepared for the worst.

The hall was busy, for it was almost time to sup, so late had she stayed abed. John saw her first and smiled in her direction. He did not come toward her at quickened pace or look at her with stricken eyes. That was good. Cathryn took a deeper breath and smiled in return.

Ulrich bowed toward her in courtly fashion and said, "Good morrow. Lady Cathryn. We dine again on boar, he was so big a beast, but Lan will tell no one in what manner he has been prepared. He is a most proud cook and most secretive of his art."

It was Ulrich at his normal best, in no way unusual. He had eyes for none but Marie, whom he trailed behind. And that was also usual of late.

And she saw Alys and Tybon and Christine and all whom she looked upon every day. All behaved toward her in a manner most right and normal, and she began to loosen the ties of the cloak she wore around her heart.

All was well. They would do naught to shame her. Mayhap they found nothing shameful about it, though when she thought upon that scream, that wail, that wailing and heart-stopping scream... well, she simply would not think about it. Cathryn thanked them quietly in her heart, glad they were so thoughtful as to pretend forgetfulness, knowing that they understood her silence for what it was and thanking them the more.

"Lady," John said, touching her elbow with friendly affection, "Lord William bade me tell you that he is meeting with the men of Greneforde in order to devise a plan of attack."

"A plan of attack? Against whom?" Cathryn asked in alarm. Surely William had knights enough of his own that he did not need to use Greneforde men, who were not trained as warriors.

"'Tis an attack upon our poverty they speak of, Cathryn, and Lord William is a most aggressive foe. He has asked me to tell you that he will come to you at first opportunity, but that he must needs begin this action now, as the time is already past for the best beginning."

How it caused her heart to fold upon itself to hear that he would come to her and make haste in the doing. He had unleashed a warmth she scarcely could hold within herself without burning.

"Thank you, John." Cathryn smiled, "I shall be in the solar should he seek me. Nay," she amended, changing her mind, "please inform me when Lord William reenters the hall."

Collecting Marie from a very sad-eyed squire, Cathryn hurried to the solar. The acca called to her, and she was eager to see the crimson fabric draped upon her. She was eager to see William's face when he beheld her arrayed in it. She was eager to feel his hands caress her through the flaming cloth and feel his eager fingers plucking at the laces that bound her within it. Yes, she was eager for much.

"Hurry, Marie, for I would wear this before I am too old and fat, before I look like a scuttling beetle skittering across the floor, before I have gray to match my lord's eyes mixed in the yellow of my hair," Cathryn said, half in jest, half in anxiety.

"Before the sun has set," Marie added, understanding her lady's impatience.

"Yea." Cathryn laughed. "'Tis so, for I am sick unto death of the faded gowns he has... that I have been wearing." She did not want to reveal so much to Marie; that she wanted William to look at her and see her at her best. That she wanted to be as beautiful to him as he was to her.

But Marie knew anyway.

They made good progress, for they were both skilled with the needle. The body of the gown was complete and they were both now working on the sleeves. When the sleeves, good English sleeves, were finished, they would be added to the bodice. If Cathryn had her way, she would wear the scarlet acca on the morrow, but then, if she had had her way, she would have worn it to her wedding. But she had had her way in so little in this life that she was determined to have her way in this; that was why she drove Marie so hard and also drove herself.

She had finished her sleeve and was picking up the bodice when John called from the entrance to the solar, "He comes and he looks for you, lady!"

Cathryn looked up with a start, fought the flush that crept to her cheeks, all but threw the half-finished bliaut into Marie's hands, and rushed out of the solar.

She rushed headlong into William.

The delicious and familiar smell of him assailed her nostrils, and then his arms came around her to steady her. There they stayed and she stayed happily within them.

"My lord, I would have you instruct me," Cathryn began, leaning back against his arms to look up at him. "Is it the proper fashion in France for a wife to greet her husband by rushing into his outstretched arms?"

William smiled and bent to kiss the top of her head. "If it is not, it soon will be. You must know that I am a leader of fashion, not a follower."

"That I did already suspect," she answered, "though Ulrich has not been quick to follow your fashion lead in the matter of bathing."

"'Tis my wife's bathing habits that most concern me.

"Ah—" Cathryn smiled—"that explains much."

"It should," he said, grinning.

"But come," she urged, laughing, eager to draw him away from such close proximity to the solar. She did not want William to know of the scarlet until he saw her in it. "I would hear of your plans for Greneforde and her hungry people."

"Their hunger will not last much longer," William said, allowing her to take his arm and lead him down the stairs to the great hall. "The seeds have been chosen and the planting will begin today, if the weather holds good, for some seeds will endure a late start in the year, even preferring it. That accomplished, we will see to new huts for all outside of Greneforde's wall. Twill take most of the winter, but they are eager to begin."

"'Tis heavy work in cold weather," Cathryn commented.