Joust of Hearts (10 page)

Finally spent, he rested his weight on top of her. She felt utterly surrounded by this beautiful man and never wanted to leave the blissful plane.

Devin finally pushed himself up only to look down at Melisande. His expression was that of wonderment. She wanted to ask what he was thinking but leaned up and kissed his sweat-dampened chest instead. He disengaged and positioned himself next to her. Falling back onto the pillow, he gazed at her. Melisande returned his look and saw yet another fire starting in his eyes.
Liam may have been a great warrior, but a more splendid lover will never be found than this man.

Chapter Nine

Melisande shyly smiled up at him and his heart sank in his chest. He took her grin as an invitation for him to ravish her once more.

Devin made love to her, slowly this time, worshiping her body, revealing in her the multiple layers of passion he knew she’d suppressed for so long owing to her widowhood. Neither of them required time to recover in between climaxes and he wondered at the fact that it had never before been like this for him. It was Melisande who drove him and he wanted to give her all. And he did, until a cock crowed in the distance, warning the earth of the impending sunrise.

Finally, he recognized the deep breathing of sleep. He set his gaze upon Melisande, and saw that she was smiling as she slept. The realization hit him that it was he who had created within her this contented disposition. Devin tucked the bed sheet tightly around them and nuzzled her neck, inhaling her womanly scent. He knew life could not be better than this. However, it was not to last beyond a few more minutes, as the household would rouse at any moment. Had they been man and wife, they could have stayed in bed for a week and no one would have been able to draw them out.

“Melisande, love.” Devin tried to rouse her, but she just lay there, deep in her slumber.

She stirred. He felt a bolt of hope. However, she merely rolled over.

“It is essential that you wake now,” he said, the hint of a taunting melody in his voice.

“I do not want to,” she responded as she pulled the thin coverlet over her head.

“You must.” Devin tried to peek at her.

“Nay, let me sleep,” she ordered, and snatched at the corner of the sheet he’d lifted.

Devin chuckled. “You, my lady, are a very difficult person to awaken come the morrow’s dim light. Why, the castle could have fallen down around us and you’d
still
be abed.”

Melisande sighed heavily, as if annoyed with the insistent voice that nagged at her while she was trying to sleep.

“You can’t be angry at me. You need to be found in your own chamber come the dawn.”

Melisande slowly slid the covering from her face and opened her eyes. “Devin,” she sighed.

The sound of his lover’s thoroughly feminine voice nearly stole the breath from his chest. “Tempt me not with your beauteous voice, my sweet nymph.” He pulled her up to a seated position and held up the gauzy robe she had so deliciously slid away from her skin at the foot of his bed mere hours ago.

“Come now, you must retire to your own chamber or you will need to have a very good story for those maids of yours.”

Melisande rolled her gaze to the rafters and back, then stuck her arms through the sleeves of the robe. Devin helped her down from the bed. “Go now to your room. ’Tis nearly dawn.”

“Devin, my legs ache,” she complained, yet half asleep as he climbed back up to his bed.

Devin smiled, pleased with the effect that his lovemaking had left with her. “Fine then, stay if you wish. I do not care what people will say when they find you in my bed,” he said, reclining back onto his pillow, interlocking his fingers behind his head as if he didn’t care a whit.

“All right. I am going,” she replied, clutching her robe shut.

“Will I see you downstairs to break our fasts?” he called to her.

“Not before I sleep more.” She shut the door behind her, weakly shuffling down the hall to her room, glancing hither and thither for persons who might espy her sluggish flight.

After she had pulled a fresh chemise over her head, Melisande slipped between her coverlets.

What seemed like moments later, Maggie and Tilly bounded into the room, and one of them threw aside the tapestry so that the sunlight practically set the place afire.

“Good day, m’lady.”

“’Tis time to rise and break your fast.”

She covered her eyes with her hands, the light having caused a searing head pain. “How is it that you two are so cheerful in the morning?” she grumbled in the direction of her maids.

“We are happy that we are to be staying on at Willowbrook, my lady,” Maggie chirped.

“So up you go. The day shan’t wait!” Tilly continued. “I have chosen your rose houppelande gown for today.”

“Oh, very well.” Squinting, she dragged herself to a seated position and wagged her finger at the girls. “However, I will not be wearing a hat—and I will brook no arguments over the matter, either.”

“A braid then,” Tilly announced.

“I shall fetch the matching ribbons,” Maggie offered.

“No braid,” Melisande said firmly.

“But, m’lady!” Tilly implored.

“Nay, I shall wear my hair down. Most, if not all, of Lord and Lady Bergavnys’ guests have left and I wish to be more comfortable. That is the end of this conversation.”

Thanks be to God they complied and stopped pestering her about it.

* * * *

Melisande made it down to the great hall before the tables were cleared. She found Devin sitting next to Helena speaking quietly. She cleared her throat politely and interrupted. “Good morrow, Lady Helena.”

“Ah, good day to you, Melisande. How did you sleep last eventide?”

“I tossed about in the bed most of the night.” Melisande had chosen her words accurately, but hid the humor behind a sincere countenance. It was her turn to speak boldly and put Devin at a loss.

“As did I, Lady Helena,” Devin added as he rose from his chair and studied Melisande’s reaction, as if in challenge. Apparently he thought he could not be outdone in jests.

“Greetings, Devin.”

He nodded a bow. “Lady Dupree.” Devin pulled out a chair for her on the opposite side of Helena. As he took her elbow, he pressed the white ribbon she had discarded at the foot of his bed last night into her hand. He whispered close to her ear, “Again.” Devin returned to his seat, his gaze never straying from hers.

Melisande was glad to be seated, as she would surely have swooned at the remembrance. In return, her look penetrated back to Devin as if she were speaking to him without words.

“Well.” Helena seeped into their private moment. “I must see to some tasks for today, so if you will excuse me. Melisande. Devin.”

Devin jumped up and offered Helena his arm just as she began to withdraw from her chair.

“Do not forget about our trip to London on the morrow, Melisande.” Helena left the hall in a swirl of richly embroidered robes.

When the mistress of Willowbrook was out of sight, Devin rushed to Melisande’s side and knelt on one knee. Taking her hand in his, he kissed her palm. “I cannot bear to be away from you even for a few hours,” he said against her hand.

“Nor I from you.” She reached out and held his face, giving his jaw and cheek a tender caress.

“Would you ride with me this day, out farther into the countryside?”

“I would like that very much,” she replied, removing her hands from him and folding them demurely into her lap. “What shall we do when we get there?” Her question hung in the air, filled with mock innocence.

Following their lusty romp not hours ago, her jest didn’t go unnoticed. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat. “I have several ideas,” he said, grinning.

Melisande leaned down close to Devin’s ear. “I have some ideas as well,” she said, breathing her words the way he had last night.

A wave of joy washed over Devin. He alone had brought out the devil in the angel before him and it pleased him to no end. He nuzzled her cheek and spoke softly next to her ear. “Not being a very patient man when it comes to these matters, I may not be able to wait that long.”

Melisande shivered with pleasure, then pulled back just enough to gaze into his eyes. “You’d best be gentle. I can barely walk as it is.”

“Hm. Then I must finish off the task properly.”

Melisande giggled.

* * * *

Melisande and her lover spent the morning in and around Willowbrook, finding private corners to steal a kiss here, a touch there, and even a place to make hurried, passionate love before they were caught. To her this was heaven. She couldn’t even remember what her life had been like before Devin.

At one point, Devin had dozed off in the grass behind a garden wall with Melisande by his side. When he’d awakened, he’d found that she’d placed tiny flowers in his hair, and some more were sticking out of his tunic and the tops of his hose. Melisande tried to flee from the ‘two-headed posy monster’, but he caught her, and pulling the flowers from his person, he stuffed them down the front of her dress, ignoring her giggling protests. Then, after kissing her until she couldn’t remember her own name, he lowered them to the ground, shoved her skirts up to her waist and gave her a wicked pounding—the most glorious, soul-shattering sex of her life.

Even for the sake of propriety she was unable to cease grinning like the village idiot.

“I’m famished,” he’d remarked after a while.

“’Tis no wonder, after all that activity.”

He rolled over and pulled her to him. “I blame you, thou temptress.”

Melisande giggled.

“Let us make for the great hall to find sustenance.”

It was at that moment that she realized just how stiff her bones were, owing to his amorous attentions. Though it pained her to do so, she asked for assistance not only to help her recover from her recumbent position, but in addition, she begged his arm to lean on as they walked along.

And oh, how her smug lover bragged. She feared she’d never hear the end of it, which was fine with her as she never wanted the reason for his posturing to stop.

* * * *

After the noon meal, Melisande felt her strength return. Devin had planned for them to go riding, and she could hardly contain her eagerness. She had Tilly and Maggie dress her in something more appropriate in which she could more comfortably ride. They chose her soft blue, lightweight robes, intricately embroidered with dark blue birds of prey and flowers and a short riding cape in a rich cornflower with white rabbit fur lining. A matching chaperon had a wide pouch of lace netting in which to catch Melisande’s hair. Her maids insisted on the hat for the ride. They commented that the hues of the outfit made her eyes seem very bright azure as opposed to their usual dull gray, which she thought perfectly fit her disposition after the morning’s vigorous activities. Her reflection in a large, framed polished silver pane showed that her cheeks echoed the glow of love that had bloomed within her breast.

For the first time in her life, she felt utterly alive.

She came upon Devin already at the stables waiting for her. He wore a long, dark gray tunic over his tight, white, long-sleeved tabard, which emphasized his muscular arms. A thick silver belt sat about his slim hips, and tight white hose covered his powerful upper legs. His tall black riding boots shone like new in the light of the afternoon sun.

“Ready for our ride?” he asked, his smile as devastating as ever.

“I am. And what a blessing to have such a handsome man to accompany me.” Melisande’s gaze took him in once again. She observed the black panther’s head on his tunic—it seemed familiar somehow, but she couldn’t recall why.

Devin helped Melisande onto her side-saddle, then mounted his steed. “Come. I wager your pretty little mare, Guinevere, can keep up with Hector’s strides.” Devin and Hector took off at full gallop. Melisande sat staring for a moment, feeling slightly left out.

“Well, Guinevere, it’s just you and me now.” She clicked her gentle mount into a trot.

After she reached the first bend, she observed Devin riding back toward her, approaching at full stride.

He brought Hector to a halt next to Guinevere. “Pray forgive me.” He sounded out of breath. “I did not realize how little you ride.”

“Thank you for your consideration, Devin,” she said, attempting to sound sardonic, but she couldn’t hold back the humor that surely shone in her eyes.

“Teasing me, are you?” He tisked. “Such impudence.” He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth, teasing her tongue with his. All too soon he pulled away, leaving her quite unsatisfied.

He grinned, obviously understanding that which her ersatz pout revealed. “Let us reach our destination and mayhaps we will finish this.”

“Mayhaps?”

Devin chuckled. “Saucy wench.”

They headed south for a short time and Devin led them into a dense copse of trees that provided protection from prying eyes. In the center was a grassy area large enough to accommodate the horses.

Surrounded by a thick hedge, Devin and Melisande lay down, facing each other in the grass. Melisande inhaled deeply of the fresh air. The sound of many birds flitting here and about and chirping happily made her feel relaxed enough that she could take a nap. However, when she looked at Devin, the vision that came to her was far too sweet to pass up. She’d ask him to take his clothes off then she’d strip down for him. They could then ravish each other and be like two beasts in the wild. Could she ask him for such a thing? Would it be terribly unladylike?

Much to Melisande’s disenchantment, Devin spoke first. “I have wanted to ask you something, Melisande.”

“What is it?” She leaned up on her elbow, inquisitiveness taking the place of her lusty idea.

Devin gazed at her for a moment. He drew a labored breath and continued, “What think you of the Willowbrook games?”

The Willowbrook games was not a choice topic, for certain. That was a question she would have expected from Liam, not this gentle lover she now looked upon with curiosity. She watched his face, trying to read his thoughts. She could not understand what this particular subject had to do with them.