The Dumont Bride (5 page)

This was not something she had considered would happen. Her father had intended that she should be in charge of Greystone and its people. He had told her many times that she was as capable as a son in understanding the intricacies of running a demesne the size of theirs. She thought that her husband would at least give her a chance to prove her worth and her abilities.

“I am not unfamiliar with what you are feeling, Emalie,” Eleanor said in a quiet voice. “To work for something so long and hard and to see it snatched from you is not something easy to accept.”

“No, Your Grace,” was all she could say.

“Give him time to adjust to his new circumstances before you judge him.”

“And what of my new circumstances, Your Grace?” Emalie bit her lip after the words escaped—her circumstances were the cause of all this.

“You would have faced much more unpleasantness if John had had his way in this and William DeSeverin sat in that seat, my dear.” Eleanor inclined her head toward her betrothed. “A woman faces this no matter where she weds.”

Although she knew it was the truth, Emalie did not like it at this moment. She had lived with the hope that her father would take her wishes and feelings into con
sideration when choosing her husband, but the practical side of her knew that she was simply dreaming. A woman married to bring property and money to her husband and to give him heirs; feelings and dreams had no place there.

“I understand, Your Grace. If you have no objections, I would retire to my chamber.”

Escape was the only thing she wanted to do. Well, not the only thing. She would like to scream her anger and embarrassment out, but that would simply increase both for her. She waited for Eleanor’s nod and then rose from her chair. She was surprised to see the count rise, also. Ah, she needed his consent now, as well, to leave her own hall. Her stomach tightened and tears threatened as a wave of desolation passed over her. But the only thing that was constant in her life of late, her people and their support, watched and waited for her every move and reaction. She could no more fail them than she could hold back the coming night.

“My lord?” she asked, tilting her head slightly to him as she turned to face him. “With your permission, I would retire.”

He closed the short distance between them with two steps and lifted her hand to his lips. Even the tension that filled her did not prevent her from noticing his breath as it tickled the fine hairs on her fingers. If his gesture was more than the usual perfunctory one, she could not tell, but she did not remember ever noticing the details of one or another until this one.

“Until tomorrow then, milady.”

He lowered her hand from his lips and placed it on his forearm, intent on guiding her from the dais. But his eyes caught her gaze and she could not breathe. Amusement, anger, suspicion and fear. She read them
and recognized them as the same feelings coursing through her. Something else coalesced in his gaze—his eyes darkened and became more intense than before.

Desire.

An overwhelming need to run struck her and she fought to take a breath. The moment passed and he looked away first, turning them toward the steps from the raised platform to the floor. She was glad for his support, even though she tried not to grip his arm for balance.

Desire was not something she had thought about in this bargain. She did not know Eleanor’s reasons for summoning this particular courtier to her rescue and she did not know his reasons for accepting such a call. His arrogant and irritated attitude in the solar, and his apparent dismissal of her from her oversight duties, made her believe that he was here for the property and riches. It made her overlook the aspect of marriage that had brought her to this point—procreation. Her shiver brought his attention and he paused in his escort of her through the length of the great hall.

“Is something amiss?” he asked in a low voice. More shivers pulsed through her at the tone of it.

“Nay, milord, all is well. You need not leave the queen to escort me to my own room. I know the way.” If she was abrupt with him, she had not intended to be so. But his nearness and his voice made her uneasy, even more so than she had felt before meeting him. Now he was here, he was her husband and he was in charge of her and all she owned.

“Very well, then, milady. I return to Eleanor’s side as you suggest. There is much I need to discuss with her.”

He released her hand and waited for her to leave.
Anger flared once more as she realized that he would discuss matters with the queen that concerned her and that she would not be included. Delaying her departure no longer, she walked the rest of the way through the hall. She was so disturbed by his dismissal that she was in the corridor leading to her room before she realized that Alyce trailed behind her. Her maid hurried to get to the door first and, once opened, Emalie rushed into her chambers.

The wind whipped his hair and stung his eyes, but he remained in the full force of it. Refusing to seek refuge behind one of the towers, Christian stood on the battlements of Greystone Castle and looked out over the surrounding countryside. The light of the full moon flowed like quicksilver over the rolling hills and valleys, causing everything in its path to shimmer. Closing his eyes, he allowed the power of the cool gusts to wipe away the tension within him.

Too many hours within walls caused his gut and his skin to tighten. He needed time outside, being buffeted by whatever nature threw at him, in order to regain control over his fear. Would it ever leave him?

He had thought that just leaving the prison cell and riding away would have freed him, but it had not. He believed he could scrub away the scum accumulated after months without bathing and filling his stomach with food after suffering deep hunger would relieve the anguish of those months. But it had not. Even having his honor restored by the king’s command did not lessen the dread that he would be returned to those dire circumstances. And the king’s demand that Geoffrey stay behind only served to intensify those fears.

Mayhap after he carried out this task for the king
and his mother, he would feel more in control of his life. There was, however, a niggling feeling that there was much more here than anyone was saying.

Why was he chosen to receive this estate, and the titles and woman that went with it? Did Eleanor’s fondness for his mother really explain it? And surely there were neighboring noblemen who could have been called upon to take control of this demesne. Richard had mentioned his brother John. Was he the threat here? Well, that answer he knew—absolutely yes.

He turned his back to the wind and walked the length of one side of the castle wall. Guards passed him on their rounds and more watched him from the corner towers. He nodded to each as they passed and studied their faces and their habits. He would speak to Sir Walter tomorrow about the troops and their commanders. Now that the betrothal agreements confirmed his power here, he would call some of his own men from Langier to come and serve him here. He would feel more secure once his own retainers arrived. Turning his attention back to the surrounding landscape, he thought of the one who was at the center of this puzzling situation.

Who was this woman, now his betrothed wife? How had she fallen into John’s net? Or was her involvement with John of her own volition and Richard wanted her under the control of his own man? He would discover John’s role in this as Richard had commanded and then mayhap Geoff could join him.

Of course his brother’s condition would prevent him from traveling at this time and probably for some time, until he recovered from the deprivations of their imprisonment. God and king willing, Geoff would join him by Michaelmas. He did regret that his own return to Chateau d’Azure would not come until next spring
at the soonest. But he had made a bargain with the king and he would hold up his end of it. And then he would be truly free.

Mayhap not completely free; he would, after all, have a wife to contend with. Other men had married and survived and he chuckled with the certainty that he would as well. A noise drew his attention and he watched as that very same wife walked onto the ramparts opposite his position. Christian stepped back into the shadows and simply observed this mysterious woman who was now his.

The lady made her way to the end of the parapet and placed herself in the force of the same wind that had buffeted him a few moments before. As he watched, she closed her eyes and turned her face into the strong breezes that passed over the crenellated wall. A quiver shot through him as he recognized the motion as the same one he made when the tension inside him grew too strong. He had taken several strides toward her before realizing his intent. Stopping before she saw him, he knew he did not wish to intrude on her private moment.

Studying her face as the moonlight illuminated it from above, Christian wondered over Eleanor’s refusal to explain the countess’s circumstances. Their private talk had been as frustrating as the one prior to the betrothal announcements—only cryptic comments and a growing feeling that he was entering a lion’s den. Trouble was, he did not know who was the lion…the Plantagenet prince or the woman he was to marry in the morning.

As if she had heard his thoughts, Emalie turned and looked at him. Their gazes met and he was once more assailed with the feeling that, in some way, they were
kindred spirits. But alike in what way? Before he could look away, she dipped her head in a subtle salute, turned from him and walked back to the door that led to her hallway. Her maid stood in the doorway waiting for her and, without any delay, the women descended the stairs and disappeared from his view.

Christian faced the wind once more and tried to quiet the sense of fear within him. Once they were married and the queen left, he would discover Emalie’s secrets and carry out his duty to the king. Once he gave Richard the information he demanded, Christian would be safe and his honor, name and wealth would be restored permanently as promised. And once he was firmly back in control of his life and destiny, he would…

He shook his head in confusion. He had lived so many months just trying to survive each day that he had never thought about what would happen next. Without his father to guide him for the first time in his life, Christian was unsure of how to move on in this life he was gathering.

Turning out of the gusts, he walked to the doorway and entered the keep. Pushing his windblown hair from his face, he sought warmth in his chamber. He closed the door, tossed off his cloak and poured himself some wine from a waiting pitcher. Swallowing deeply, he felt exhaustion taking control of his body.

There were simply too many things to worry about, too many uncertainties to face in the coming days and months, and Christian did not have the physical strength to face them all with the confidence he needed. He decided then and there that gaining back his stamina was his first priority. Once he felt stronger, he could face these many challenges. Then he would face his duties to his king and his honor.

Collapsing on the bed, he could not even pull himself back up. Tomorrow would be another trying and long day and he needed to rest. Tomorrow, he would plan out the rest of his life. Tomorrow, he would be married.

Sleep overtook him and the room faded into darkness around him.

A
lthough the long, soft strokes of the brush through her hair usually calmed her, this night Emalie believed that nothing would. Alyce had even taken to watering her wine since dinner so she would gain no relief there, either. Now her heart pounded in her chest and she startled at every noise in the corridor outside her mother’s chamber door.

No. Not her mother’s. Now this was her suite of rooms.

Emalie could have moved into these chambers after her mother’s death and surely after her father’s, but somehow it had not seemed the right thing to do. She’d remained in the rooms where she’d grown up, where she’d been a daughter. Now she was a wife and belonged next to her husband. Eleanor’s servants accomplished the move with the swiftness and thoroughness expected of them and she now sat awaiting her husband’s arrival.

Husband.

They were truly married now, although her memory carried only glimpses of the ceremony and the Mass that had followed. Because this was being done as ex
peditiously as possible, most of those who swore their fealty to her and now to her husband were not present. Only those knights and women of her household were witnesses and they were not many in number.

Alyce’s slow and steady movements continued, but the desired effect did not happen. Emalie tried to remember saying the words that bound her to Christian, but the day was a blur in her mind. The only clear remembrance she had was of counting the links on the golden chain her father had given her on the last anniversary of her birth as she watched the men who had sworn to protect her turn over their allegiance to her husband, now the Earl of Harbridge. It had been her mother’s favorite and she wore it today as she did every day—to remind her of her parents and her duties to the people of Greystone. Duties that included giving up her people and soon her own self into his control, and hopefully into his care.

Emalie shook herself free of her reverie and thought about the duty to come this night. He would take her and make her his wife in all ways. And he would know her truth. The room darkened and began to close in around her. Try as she might, she could not catch her breath.

Alyce must have sensed the change in her, for she stopped what she was doing and draped a warm shawl over Emalie’s shoulders.

“There now, milady. All will be well.” Alyce clucked as she wrapped the length of wool tighter around her.

Emalie dared not look at her maid for fear of crying. Tears had threatened all day but now, wracked with worried anticipation over her coming wedding night, her eyes burned. Any reply was lost when the expected
knock came on her door, but it was at the doorway that joined her room to her husband’s and not at the hallway, which she had expected. Emalie stood and faced it.

Eleanor entered her room, followed by Eleanor’s priest and then him…Christian Dumont. Eleanor walked across the room and took Emalie’s hands in her own and, with a nod, dismissed Alyce from the chamber. A soft look entered the queen’s eyes as she examined Emalie from her head to her toes, which were visible below the thin gown she wore.

“We are almost done, Emalie,” Eleanor whispered in a voice so low that no one else could hear.

Emalie curtsied slightly to her in response and lowered her gaze, waiting.

“Christian, your mother would be proud of you this day even as yours would be, Emalie.” Eleanor took Christian’s hands and encircled them around Emalie’s. “I am pleased to see two families who have been so important to me finally joined together in wedlock.” Eleanor sounded very pleased with herself over these arrangements, almost as though she had planned them for years. “Father, will you give them your blessing now?”

Emalie caught Christian’s gaze as he looked up, both startled by Eleanor’s actions. There should be a bedding ceremony and then the blessing. There should be witnesses so that no doubts of the validity of the marriage could be raised. Eleanor just smiled at them both and nodded at her priest, who raised his hand and made the sign of the cross before them.

Emalie did not hear the words he prayed. She could hear nothing but the beating of her heart as the moment she dreaded approached even more quickly. Soon there
was quiet in the room and Emalie realized that Eleanor had dismissed even the priest now. Unable to move, she stood with her hands still clasped in Christian’s. He seemed as baffled by these proceedings as she.

“I informed those attending your wedding celebration that I would stand as witness to the bedding.” Eleanor looked from one to the other and nodded. “Now that Father has issued his blessing on your marriage and wedding night, I will retire.”

“Your Grace?” Emalie took a deep breath in and continued. “Should we? I mean…what is it you want us to do?”

Undressing before this man would be difficult enough, but with a witness? She had never attended a bedding before. She had only heard whispered tales of the undressing and examination that a newly married couple had to endure so that no objections to their physical suitability could be raised later. Eleanor gazed at her first and then at her new husband.

“Since there will be no repudiation of this marriage by either of you, I see no reason to do anything but wish you well and leave.”

Eleanor turned from them and walked to the door leading to the hallway, pausing with her hand on the latch before opening it. “And there will be no disavowal in the morning, will there? Christian? Emalie?” Not waiting for their responses, Eleanor pulled the door open and stepped into the hall. “I will be gone before you rise in the morn, so I will say my farewells now, my dears. Be kind to each other.”

And with those words, and after all her machinations, the dowager Queen of England, Duchess of Aquitaine and dowager Countess of Anjou left them alone. To begin their married life. Emalie shuddered at
what her husband’s reaction would be when he found she was no longer a virgin. He watched her for a moment and then released her hands from his. She wondered what to do next.

“May I have some wine?” he asked in his native language.

“Of course, my lord. Would you sit while I pour some for you?” Emalie answered in the regional French he’d used. After pointing to a bench near the hearth, she filled a goblet for him and refilled her own and then carried them to him.

He accepted it from her with murmured thanks and sat down and stared into the fire for a few minutes. Not knowing what to do, Emalie stood at one end of the hearth, placed her goblet upon the mantel shelf and waited.

“So it was you who visited me while I bathed?” His voice broke the silence and she turned to face him.

“Yes, my lord. I brought you an herbal potion for your bath.”

“You have my thanks. ’Twas very soothing.” He stood and approached her. “But this is what I remember most.” She remained motionless as he reached out and lifted her hair from the edge of the shawl she clutched tightly around her. He slid his fingers through the length of it, gently, drawing it over her shoulders, and then looked into her eyes. His fingers grazed her neck and face, sending shivers through her. The breath she had finally found was lost once more as his hands touched and teased her shoulders and the tops of her breast.

She needed to warn him before this went any further. If he discovered that she had lost her virtue after he consummated their marriage, he might be angrier than
being warned first. But the touch of his lips on hers drove any words or explanation she had planned right out of her mind. He moved his mouth over hers, stepping nearer still until he wrapped her in his embrace. His kiss was gentle, like the touch of his fingers on her skin, but persistent, and soon a wave of heat moved through her body until she felt sweat trickle down between her breasts.

Completely unexpected, this feeling of being held by him, of being kissed by him, undid her. She had tried to prepare herself to mate with him, to allow him his marital privileges, but never did she anticipate such a physical reaction from her own body.

’Twas not that she was without experience, although, other than a few kisses, she had no memory of what William had done. She only knew from Alyce that she would not feel a virgin’s pain again so this mating should not be difficult for her. Now, with the heat pouring through her, and his kisses becoming more insistent and impassioned, she thought that she might even tolerate this, but first she must warn him of what he’d find when they mated. Drawing her face from his, she sucked in a gasping breath.

“My lord. Please.”

“Emalie,” he said in a whispered voice. “So sweet.”

“I need to speak to you, my lord,” she begged as she pulled from his embrace. The room around her could not be cold and yet the loss of heat from being in his arms made it feel chilled indeed. She watched the expression on his face and in his eyes change as she stepped back from him. Disappointment appeared in his gaze now.

“You have my attention. What is so important that
it can not wait?” His tone carried a sharp edge and Emalie worried about broaching this subject. Mayhap there was another way?

“My lord, I beg your tolerance and patience,” she began as she lowered her eyes. “I had thought that I could simply acquiesce to the demands of this marriage.”

The silence between them grew until she was forced to look up at him. Meeting his gaze and expecting to find disbelief or even anger, she was surprised instead to find a measure of acceptance or understanding in his expression.

“Am I so onerous that you find it, as you say, impossible to acquiesce to your duties?”

“Oh, no, my lord! ’Tis not you. Just that this marriage and its arrangements have happened in such a short time and with so little notice to me that I can hardly believe myself married.” A sad smile crossed his face and so she pressed on with what was probably a hopeless request. “And I suspect that you were surprised by this as well?”

“Surprised? Why would you say that? Marriage is expected of those in our class. The partner and the date of the ceremony are the only questions left awaiting an answer.”

Emalie glanced over at her goblet of wine and reached for it. Sipping it, she tried to regain her calm and focus her thoughts on the thing she hoped to gain from her new husband. Unable to discern a proper approach, Emalie decided to simply ask.

“I would ask that we postpone this…” Unable to say the words, she motioned between them with her hand. “Until we know each other better.”

A choking sound drew her attention. Christian
coughed a few times as though he had swallowed his own wine the wrong way. He wiped his eyes and looked at her.

“Lady? You are jesting? A marriage is true only after it is consummated and I will not jeopardize my claim—”

“Your claim to my lands? My title? My people?” A wave of anger filled her and it was impossible to stop the words.

“Aye, countess,” he answered, his voice filled with sarcasm. “What was yours is now mine. And I want no question to be raised about my right to all that was granted to me.”

Realizing her mistake, she stepped back and knelt before him. If she had to humble herself to him to gain a reprieve, so be it. She had done so before to protect what was hers; it would not be so very painful to do so once more. She needed time before he found out the truth of her dishonor. No, not dishonored…she would never consider herself as that. Nothing she had done, nothing she had tried to do, would ever deserve the outcome she had reaped. She had not given away her honor; she still carried it deep within her.

Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “My lord, I meant no challenge to your rights as my lawful husband. Truly. As my husband, all I have is yours. I am yours.”

She heard his breathing and wondered at his response. She waited for him to say something before continuing, but he said nothing.

“I have recently lost my father and have faced many trials in trying to keep my estates and my people from ruin. Please, my lord, give me a bit of time to accustom myself to our marriage.”

She felt his hands grasp her shoulders and pull her to her feet before him. Raising her eyes to him, she waited for his refusal. Even she understood the need to claim her, but her fear of what he would do when he discovered her lack of virginity had driven her to this.

“I will go to my room, Emalie. You have your reprieve.”

“But, my lord, what of…?” Confused over his quick agreement, she thought to ask him about Eleanor’s order that there be no repudiation of their vows.

“Do not worry about your reputation—I will mark the sheets so that none question that the deed has been done.”

Christian walked from her to the side of the bed, rolling back his sleeve as he moved. After he pulled the bedcovers back, he drew a knife from his belt and made a small, precise slit in his forearm. He held his arm out over the bed and allowed small drops of blood to fall onto the white sheets, marring their cleanliness forever. She gaped as he assessed the amount necessary and then pressed his other hand over the wound to stop the bleeding.

“Now no tongues will wag on the morrow.”

She stood there, speechless, unsure of what to say and unable to force a word out of her mouth.

“In a way, this is a blessing of sorts.”

“It is, my lord?” For her certainly, but for him? There would be time to explain to him, in some way, what had happened to her. She did not think she would ever reveal the name of the man who had taken what Christian should have had, but she owed him some accounting of her actions.

“As you said, this marriage was a surprise to me.
Although I came here to carry out some order of the queen’s, I did not expect to gain a wife, more titles and more lands. This reprieve of yours will give us some time to learn about the other and to accommodate ourselves to this marriage.”

His words agreed with hers, but there was something underneath the words themselves. She sensed something questionable, something dangerous…just something else there. Mayhap this was a blessing after all. If he could see her as a capable chatelaine, a calm and sober woman and a dutiful wife, mayhap he could forgive her lapse of…behavior? Time might be exactly what she needed.

“I agree, my lord,” she answered. “Many men and women of our class do not have the opportunity to acquaint themselves with their spouses before marriage. This could indeed be a blessing.”