Knight's Caress (18 page)

Unexpectedly, he turned away and started shedding his clothes. Flickering hearth flames bathed the room in golden splotches of light, gilding Tedric’s broad back. Amberlie watched in fascinated silence; she couldn’t help herself. It seemed that she hadn’t the strength or inclination —or perhaps it was her own weakness—to stop staring. She’d known that Tedric was a powerfully built man, but now, in her chambers with him as her husband, she felt overwhelmed and lightheaded at the forced intimacy.

He dropped his tunic, then underclothing, before he removed his hose. Rippling firelight played over the planes of his bronzed back and buttocks, which Amberlie noticed were pale and tight. When he turned to her and started for the bed, Amberlie quickly averted her eyes, suddenly embarrassed and humiliated that he should believe she was curious about his physical attributes. She couldn’t avert her eyes for long when Tedric came to stand directly beside the bed, not the least modest about his nudity, and waiting for her inspection.

Her eyes swept across his expanse of chest and down, almost as if a magnet pulled her gaze, past his tapered waist and taut abdomen, down, down to that part of him which intrigued and frightened her. His shaft was already aroused, springing forth from its nest to taunt her. Amberlie couldn’t swallow, could hardly breathe, and couldn’t look away. The thought entered her mind that Tedric was more of a man than she could accommodate. She’d always believed that Henri had been well endowed, but now she realized that there was no contest between the two men. Tedric easily won.

“Is all to your liking, my lady?” he asked in a voice which sounded thick and heavy in her ears.

Suddenly Amberlie felt very warm, and glancing up, she managed to make her own voice sound as normal as possible. “If all were to my liking, my lord, I’d not be here with you now.”

Gently, so gently that Amberlie at first didn’t feel the pressure of his hand, he stroked the side of her head, before wrapping a dark strand of hair around his fingers. “So soft your hair feels, as soft as a doe’s forelock. And ‘tis the same hue.”

A shiver slid through her, disturbing her composure. Bending low, Tedric placed a feather-light kiss upon her lips but didn’t draw away. And Amberlie didn’t either. From somewhere in the recesses of her brain, she told herself not to submit to him, not to be disloyal to Henri. But when his mouth touched hers, she felt a strange quiver of pleasure dart through her stomach like a huntsman’s arrow, and the pleasure won out. No matter what had gone before, Amberlie couldn’t stop herself from returning his kiss. A power greater than her disdain for him allowed her no self-control.

Blue eyes locked with brown ones. Tedric deepened the kiss, sending Amberlie into a maelstrom of passion, which until that moment had been kept in check. Now, with just a kiss, unbridled desire swept over her. She moaned against his mouth, not realizing that his arms had clasped her around the waist and had pulled her hard against his chest when he joined her on the bed.

Her arms wrapped around his neck of their own volition, a silent signal to both of them that she was finally giving in to the attraction which had bound them together from the first. She loved the way his hands expertly roamed over her buttocks, bringing her to rest against his rock- hard erection. Through the thin shift, she felt him nudging between her thighs, and Amberlie didn’t draw away, but pushed closer into him, eager to feel his thickness.

Tedric groaned and broke their kiss to gaze deeply into her eyes. “Is that truly what you desire, Amberlie?” he asked, and rubbed suggestively against her. “For once we’ve begun, I will lose control, and you’ll be at my mercy.”

She was at his mercy now, for already she’d lost control of her emotions, her own body. Speech was lost to her, and she nodded, too trapped by the fierce desire in his eyes to resist. With a leisurely movement, Tedric undid the laces on her shift until her breasts spilled free of the material. He lowered the shift to her waist, his fingers caressing her nipples into taut dusky peaks. And then he bent low to taste each one, to tease and lick until a fire swirled inside of her.

She found herself kneeling on the bed while he suckled her. Her hands grasped his broad shoulders, her fingers sunk into his flesh. Nothing like this melting, hot yearning had ever happened to her, not even when she’d been Henri’s wife. What was there about this man that could seduce her senses, could transform her into a quivering mass of lust? No longer did her eyes behold Tedric the barbarian, the man who’d killed her husband. In the foggy haze of passion, Amberlie saw with her heart.

She cried out softly when he pushed the shift past her waist to puddle at her thighs. Tedric then laid her down upon the bed to remove it entirely from her while he pulled her lower body up to the edge of the mattress, allowing her legs to wrap around his thighs of her own accord. “Ah, Amberlie, Amberlie, you are so beautiful.” He praised her with words, but better expressed how lovely he found her with his hands and lips.

A heated and wet warmth met his finger when he parted her legs to slip inside her, to tease and taunt her. Amberlie felt herself opening more to him with each gentle thrust as he readied her for him. It had been such a long time since she’d lain with Henri that she’d feared she would detest lovemaking with another man. But Tedric was no ordinary man, not ordinary at all, she quickly realized as he expertly spread open the petals of her flesh with his fingers, as he magically swept away the image of Henri from her mind. Suddenly, there was no other man but Tedric, and it seemed as if until this moment, she’d never been with a man before.

But she had, and her body quickly reawakened to long-dormant pleasure.

Desire curled within her abdomen like a fiery whirlpool. Every nerve in her body ached for Tedric to quell the heated core of her womanhood by filling her. She rode upon his finger, her passion at a fevered pitch, as she thrashed her head from side to side and arched her back. There was no denying that she wanted this man, and when he suddenly withdrew from her, she stared at him in wide-eyed distress. He placed his arms on each side of her body, imprisoning her between them, and gazed down at her in what she could only read as pure lust. “Don’t stop— please,” she whimpered, forgetting that she shouldn’t beg this man for anything.

“Will you beg me to pleasure you?” he asked, and captured a nipple between his sensuous lips.

Amberlie writhed beneath him. Her body was in torment to belong to him.
“Oui,
I’ll beg if you want, I’ll get on my knees and beg.”

He ceased his teasing assault. “I’d rather see you on your back, fair wife. Never will I allow you to beg, Amberlie, never do I want you to beg for something that brings us both pleasure.” And before she was aware, Tedric rose above her on the mattress and slid his thick length into her, bringing a shattering moan from between her lips.

Her hands clasped the bed linen as he thrust within her. His movements were at first leisurely and slow, but then she arched against him and Tedric was lost. Powerful arms enveloped her, holding her tightly against his chest as she clamped her legs around his waist, bringing him into her so deeply that they were closely melded. With a wild and primitive abandon, Tedric filled her until Amberlie felt the core of her womanhood contract and expand in pulsating waves of pure bliss.

“I can wait no longer, sweet love,” he whispered hoarsely against her ear, and purposely stilled his motions.

Without words, Amberlie knew the moment was at hand. Grasping his shoulders, she pushed into him, and her mouth sought his in a kiss which sent her over the edge into a whirling star- burst of shattering fulfillment. At the very instant that pleasure claimed her, Tedric thrust and spilled himself into her with a lusty growl of completion.

He lay atop her for long moments until their breathing steadied. Then he moved her toward the center of the bed, and went to retrieve a pelt from the floor before he lay beside her, covering them. His hand rested intimately upon her breast, his fingers gently stroking the nipple until it was hard as a pearl. “I love touching your breasts.” Tedric turned her face to his and kissed her. “I love touching all of you.”

Amberlie’s senses returned despite the delicious sensations which darted through her each time he stroked her. A blush spotted each cheek as she relived in her mind what had just happened between them. A wanton, that’s what she’d been, a sinful wanton who’d willingly enjoyed coupling with Henri’s killer—what else could she think of herself? Tedric had seduced her, but how she’d wanted to be seduced, how she would have begged him to love her if he’d decided to torment her by stopping! Though he was her husband, she was no better than a whore in her response to him. She’d never respond to him again, she vowed to herself. Granted he would make love to her, but she didn’t have to enjoy it.

“Amberlie, what is wrong?”

She heard him, and his breath caressed her cheek, but she didn’t want him to know how his very presence undid her. Tedric was her husband now, but still, he was the enemy. “I —I am fatigued,” she said.

He chuckled. “Your body tells me that you’re wide awake.”

“Then my body lies.”

“Your lips lie, but not your beautiful body. Never your body.” He nibbled on her breasts, and Amberlie was lost once more as she realized that Tedric was ready again for her—but worse, she was ready for him too.

Opening her legs to him, she reveled in her own wantonness when his sheath impaled her. This time their mating was more hungry and savage, quicker to reach the pinnacle. Tedric spent himself inside her, and her own body exploded with an intensity that left her weak and shaking later when he held her in his arms. Her earlier vow not to respond to him had fallen by the wayside, and Amberlie knew Tedric possessed a wanton, wicked power over her—a delicious, dastardly power that she craved with her entire being.

If only he weren’t her enemy.

Before she drifted into sleep, she stirred and found her new husband watching her with a possessive gleam in his eyes, but a gentleness too that somehow touched her. “I like looking at you,” he said, almost shyly.

She enjoyed looking at his body too, but she’d never openly admit such a thing to him. Instead, she said, “Do you have a surname? For if you do, I know it not.”

“Eriksen.”

It had a heathenish, savage sound to it, Amberlie thought. Not soft and lyrical as a French name. “I see,” she stated without emotion.

“Do you like it?”

She shrugged. “A name, that is all. What significance is there in a name?”

“None, unless you’re the bearer of that name.”

Turning onto her side, she presented her back to him. She was more than startled when Tedric drew her to his chest, his arm extending over her waist and pulling her against him so that her buttocks met his shaft. But she quickly discerned it was limp, and breathed a tired sigh of relief. She doubted she could stand being loved again, though the thought of Tedric’s possession caused a slow burn to flame within her.

She knew when Tedric fell asleep by the rhythmic sound of his breathing. “Amberlie Eriksen,” she whispered into the darkness, and somehow it didn’t sound as horrible as she’d thought it would.

She is so beautiful, thought Tedric as he gazed upon the sleeping face of his wife. How privileged he felt to be her husband, how lucky was he to be alive and allowed to spend this morning beside her warm body in bed rather than in a hastily dug grave. He owed his good fortune to the king, and though he was still wary of William, Tedric knew he would willingly obey the man, for William had given him a gift far more precious than Woodrose and the surrounding lands. He’d given him Amberlie as his wife.

Amberlie stirred in her sleep and flung her arm across the pillow, nearly hitting Tedric in the eye, but he dodged her unintended assault. A small smile split his lips to see that she nestled so near to him. He liked having her next to him, so close beside him that their hearts echoed as one beat. He feared, however, that once she wakened, she’d again regard him with suspicion and hostility. Or perhaps, after their night together, she might look favorably upon him … No matter that she didn’t love him; passion and mutual attraction bound them together. And for the moment, that was more than enough as far as Tedric was concerned.

Never in his wildest imaginings had he expected Amberlie to be such a receptive and passionate lover. Her desire for him pleased him beyond measure. During the night he’d wakened and had skillfully roused her from sleep to take her again, and she’d more than eagerly responded to him. No matter what she felt for him outside of bed, in bed she was a bewitching wanton, totally unlike the demure and passive woman she led others to believe she was. And if he weren’t careful, he could easily fall in love with such a woman.

“Guard your heart,” he told himself, worried that she’d eventually hurt him if he allowed himself to feel anything other than physical desire for her. True, he was besotted with her peach-tinted beauty, her long lashes that lay upon her cheeks like dark half-moons. And her body, her absolutely lush body, which was soft as velvet and so responsive to his lovemaking that Tedric wondered indeed if last night hadn’t been part of his imagination—but it was real, very real, and the proof lay contentedly beside him, looking so voluptuous in sleep that he felt himself hardening with desire.

Noise in the bailey distracted him, and his gaze wandered to the window where dawn’s pink streaks stained the sky. Already he’d been abed for too long. He was lord of Woodrose again, and there was much to oversee, especially now that William, king of England, was his guest. Only last week he’d been considered an enemy of the crown; now he was the king’s liege man. The irony of the situation caused him to chuckle quietly.

So as not to waken Amberlie, he carefully rose from the bed. He glanced down at her, and realized that he’d be forced to battle his basic instincts not to touch her during the day. He already looked forward to nightfall, to the moment when Amberlie would belong exclusively to him again without the distractions of the daily routine. For now, however, William awaited him downstairs to discuss further fortifications for the keep, and he must school himself to keep desire at bay.

In the semi-darkness, Tedric dressed in silence. When he was finished, he reached into the chest for the cloth which contained the circlet. Removing the material, he reverently placed the gleaming golden and garnet object atop the pillow he’d just vacated. Tradition decreed that he personally present the morning gift to his bride. And there was nothing he’d have preferred more, but he wasn’t married to a typical Saxon woman, or to a woman who even cared about him. But the woman would know she had pleased him mightily, he’d see that she did. Yet he, a brave warrior of his people, was too shy to present the morning gift to his own wife.

Stepping away from the bed, he could almost imagine how the circlet would gleam like the sun atop Amberlie’s dark hair. He knew she’d be radiantly beautiful. Filling his eyes with her loveliness, Tedric then left the chamber to speak with the king.

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Where was Mercy?

Edytha had thoroughly searched the room she shared with her mother, upsetting Lady Mabel by her endless hunts for the lost cloth doll. But nowhere was her baby to be found. Each night, before she fell asleep, Edytha clutched a small wolf’s pelt in her arms that the kind Sir Flaubert had given to her, but the fur didn’t take the place of Mercy. She wanted her baby and wouldn’t rest until she found her!

When Magda came into the room to help her mother dress, Edytha sneaked away. She was dressed only in her shift and barefoot, but she didn’t mind the drafty hallway. Her mission was far too important to feel the early morning’s chill.

She’d spotted Tedric coming out of his room, and quickly hid within an alcove. Tedric didn’t like her to roam the hallways without Magda or Glenna. She knew that if he saw her, he’d bring her back to her room, and she’d be unable to look for her baby. Waiting until he disappeared down the winding, narrow stairs, Edytha then moved silently along the hallway until she came to Tedric’s room and discovered the large, thick oak door was ajar. Perhaps Mercy was inside.

She went directly into the room. A hazy purplish-pink light from outside illuminated the furnishings and the sleeping figure of Amberlie on the bed. Edytha stopped cold in her steps on seeing the dark-haired woman. She hadn’t expected to see her, and didn’t quite understand why this lady slept in her brother’s bed. During her stay in the cave, she’d seen Glenna asleep beneath the furs with Tedric once and had accepted it. Seeing Amberlie lying in the bed was a bit confusing to Edytha, but she guessed it had something to do with the marriage ceremony she’d attended the previous day. Her mother hadn’t explained what marriage meant when she’d asked her, but now it slowly dawned upon Edytha that Amberlie was sharing her brother’s bed—something Glenna had told her with disgust on her face, and something Edytha didn’t think Glenna liked at all.

But she was here to search for Mercy, and she didn’t care to think about anything other than her baby.

On silent feet, Edytha looked behind the chair, the small table, and a large chest. She got on her hands and knees by the bed and looked beneath it. No Mercy. Finally, she looked toward the top of the bed, thinking that she should search there, and her gaze fell upon the golden circlet beside Amberlie on the pillow.

She recognized the circlet as belonging to her mother and wondered how it had gotten here. Many times she’d asked her mother if she could play with it, but always her mother told her that the circlet was much too valuable for her to touch. Once, her mother had placed it on her head for a short time and let her look at her image in the mirror, but had quickly taken it from her to put away for safekeeping. But that had been when Edytha was very young, and she hadn’t seen it in a long time.

And now it was right before her, and Edytha so wished to try it on her head again that she forgot about Mercy. Reaching out for the circlet, Edytha took it from the pillow and clutched it to her bosom, practically flying out of the room. Finally she had something that she could hold and admire, something the dark-haired lady must have wanted very much to keep in her bed.

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Amberlie jerked awake with a start. Sitting up, she sensed that someone was in the room, but she saw she was alone. Very much alone, for Tedric wasn’t there.

An all-consuming blush warmed her. How wantonly she’d behaved last night! Had that insatiable love-starved creature been herself? Never in her years as Henri’s wife had she responded in such a fashion. What sort of a spell had Tedric woven over her to make her forget her scruples so completely? But even as she worried over her own lusty actions, she wondered if she’d pleased him and knew she had. A man didn’t make love over and over to a woman he didn’t desire, and certainly if she hadn’t satisfied him, she’d have known. After all, a woman sensed these things.

Her gaze rested on the chest by the bed. The circlet. Was it still there? She looked, and saw the woven cloth. But it was no longer wrapped about anything. Evidently, Tedric had carried the gift with him, and he’d give it to her later. And with her whole heart, she knew she’d earned it, but more, she wanted it.

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Glenna woke in not the best of moods. She’d passed a sleepless night, her thoughts centered below stairs upon Tedric making love to his new wife. Her body had burned for the man, and she’d risen from her bed to ease her ache, only to literally bump into Sir Christophe in the dark bailey. Christophe had been on watch and asked her why she was abroad on such a cold night. Glenna had been so overcome by her own agitation about Tedric that she’d allowed herself the tainted pleasure of seducing another man. Well, not seducing actually, for Christophe hadn’t been tempted to leave his watch. He’d told her in no uncertain terms that he knew what she was about and refused to be second best. But he wanted her, she knew he did. And though she’d originally kissed him to somehow spite Tedric, she had found great delight in his lips.

That delight had caused her no end of consternation, for afterwards she’d forgotten about Tedric as her mind dwelled on Sir Christophe’s noble form and handsome face. But this morning, things were different. Tedric and how he’d spent his night were uppermost in her thoughts.

Dressing in a blue woolen girdle which matched her eyes, Glenna left her small room and made it down the extremely narrow wooden stairs to the lower floor. As she did each morning, she went to check on Lady Mabel, who’d taken the place of her own dear mother. Opening the door, she called to her but found the bed was empty. She quickly decided that the woman must be in the great hall to break her fast, a fact which pleased Glenna for it meant that Tedric’s mother was gaining strength again. She made a move to leave, but stopped when she heard a sound behind the oak-planked door.

Peering around the door, Glenna noticed Edytha, whose large, blue eyes stood out starkly against her pale complexion. “Edytha, are you playing a hiding game?”

“N-n-ay.”

“Then why are you behind the door, hiding like a thief?”

“‘Tis Mother I am hiding from.”

“For the love of heaven, why?”

“So she’ll not take my play toy from me.” Glenna noticed Edytha kept one hand behind her back.

“Well, you can show it to me. I won’t take it away from you.”

“It is mine! I won’t give it back!”

“I promise I won’t take it, you can show it to me,” Glenna sweetly cajoled, fearful that whatever Edytha was hiding might be harmful to her. “Please, you can trust me.”

Edytha thought for a long moment, her eyes wary, but she was by nature a trusting soul, especially with Glenna, who was always kind to her. The girl’s hand moved from her back, and she showed Glenna the golden and garnet circlet.

All color faded from Glenna’s face. Her breath caught in her throat for she instantly recognized the circlet as Lady Mabel’s morning gift. Lady Mabel had shown it to her in the cave. It was the woman’s most precious possession, the one thing Mabel had saved when the Normans invaded the keep. “This shall be your morning gift when you wed my son,” Mabel had told her with a soft smile. She’d held it out for Glenna to touch, and she’d placed it upon Glenna’s head. “A perfect fit, child,” Mabel had proclaimed with tears brimming in her eyes. Glenna had cherished it from the start, eager for the morning when Tedric would hand it to her. But now that morning would never come.

“Where did you find this?” Glenna asked, a bit confused, for Tedric’s bride should now be the owner.

“On the Norman witch’s pillow,” Edytha answered.

Glenna knew whom Edytha was speaking about since she had parroted Glenna’s cruel name for Amberlie. “Did she see you take it?”

Edytha shook her fluffy golden head. “Nay, she was asleep.”

“And you took the circlet off the pillow, but she didn’t waken?”

“Nay, I told you, she was asleep.” Clutching the circlet in her small hands, Edytha went to the mirror and placed the object upon her head. “So pretty,” she breathed at her reflection.

True, the circlet was pretty, more than pretty. Glenna felt as if a sharp-honed ax dug into her heart. How often she’d dreamed of owning the circlet, of being the next one to wear it. But Tedric had given it to Amberlie, which meant only one thing—Amberlie had pleased him greatly. And he was more than willing to express his gratitude with the gift. Everyone from serf to knight would know the new mistress had won her husband’s heart and was also entitled to their loyalty. When Amberlie entered the great hall to break her fast on the morning after the wedding night, all would see the circlet atop her head and know what it signified.