The Succubus (10 page)

It seemed to be the plight of all women to live under the yoke of male cruelty. Esmeralda was the only woman Isabel had ever met who was free to choose how she lived her life. A shocking thought when one considered how she lived. Isabel had tried not to think about the tall, sensuous woman Kendrick had paid to come to Tewsbarrow and teach Isabel the art of seduction.

Most of the time, she been so shocked by the things Esmarelda did that Isabel had paid scant attention to what she said. Now she wished she'd been more attentive. She seemed to remember something important the woman had said during her last night at Tewsbarrow.

Isabel had been summoned to Kendrick's bed in the solar where she found Esmarelda waiting. Kendrick had plopped into a chair near the bed. With an impatient wave of his hand, he said, “Tonight I'll watch, and perhaps Esmarelda can teach you to be something other than a cold fish.”

Isabel didn't understand what he meant, but Esmarelda took her hand and led her closer to the bed. Then she slowly removed both of their robes. After what Isabel been through for the last four days, she shouldn't have felt ashamed at being naked in front of her husband and this woman, but still she lowered her head. Esmeralda, moving in her usual languid style, climbed onto the bed holding one of Isabel's hands. On her knees with flickering candlelight dancing along the ivory column of her body, she smiled and gently pulled Isabel toward her. Awkwardly, Isabel crawled onto the bed.

Esmeralda urged her closer and when their bodies were almost touching, she crooned, “Why do you hesitate? Am I not more beautiful than your hairy husband?” She reached out and lightly stroked the side of Isabel's torso. “Isn't my touch softer, more pleasing?”

She slipped an arm around Isabel's waist and drew her nearer until one of her breasts pressed against one of Isabel's. “Touch me,” she whispered and guided Isabel's hand against her midriff and up toward her other breast.

The soft globe pressed against the side of Isabel's hand, reminding her how it felt when she touched herself. She wondered if squeezing Esmeralda's nipple would give her the same tingle Isabel got and moved her hand up. As her thumb passed over and then clamped against the nipple, Esmeralda moaned softly. Her hips began to undulate.

She seemed to be enjoying what Isabel was doing, so Isabel increased her efforts and Esmeralda moved closer until her belly bounced against Isabel's and the two breasts massaged each other.

Esmeralda murmured praises, telling Isabel how wonderful her touch felt; how smooth her skin was; how firm her buttocks; how beautiful her body and her face. She lightly kissed Isabel's cheeks, her eyelids and finally her lips.

She easily coaxed Isabel into lying on the bed and knew just where to touch with her fingers or tongue. She traveled along Isabel's body at a leisurely pace, giving each stop lavish attention. Isabel found Esmeralda's gentle touches strangely arousing.

And always Esmeralda told her how good and beautiful and wonderful she was. After months of Kendrick's criticism, this soft praise made Isabel think her feelings mattered and so she forgot to be embarrassed or frightened and let herself truly feel. Finally, Esmeralda reached the apex between Isabel's legs and her tongue and lips worked miracles that caused Isabel's body to arch. She clenched her fists and cried out her excitement until she collapsed into a pool of contentment.

But the bed jiggled and Isabel opened her eyes and saw Kendrick leering down at them, his hairy belly bare, his manroot jutting out. She wanted to scream at him to go away and leave her alone, but Esmeralda smiled and welcomed him to the bed like a gracious hostess. She positioned Kendrick in the middle with Isabel nestled against his side. She placed Isabel's hand on his chest and said, “Stroke your husband's manly chest, Isabel. We want him to feel as good as we do, don't we?”

Then Esmeralda moved down, leaned over, and took Kendrick into her mouth. In seconds he was grunting like an old boar. In a few minutes, Esmeralda had drained him dry and he drifted toward sleep with a silly smile on his face.

Esmeralda lay still until Kendrick's breathing echoed deep sleep. Then she rose from the bed, and picked up her robe. Isabel got up and covered Kendrick's body, not because she worried he might get cold, but to hide his white corpulence. As she retrieved her robe, she saw Esmeralda pick up a small cloth bag and jiggle the coin inside it. She didn't bother to open the drawstrings, evidently able to judge the amount from feel and sound.

After Isabel had her robe on, she stared at Esmeralda, knowing the woman was leaving the next morning, but not sure if she should bid her farewell or not. Esmeralda made sure all of her hair was free of her robe by slipping one hand under the long auburn tresses and then pulling them over one shoulder. She took a step toward the secret door but stopped and looked back at Isabel.

“Men have the power to rule worlds. Women have the power to rule men. Learn to use your power, Isabel.” Then she had stepped behind the tapestry.

Isabel realized Chloe was no longer nursing and was about to fall asleep. She lifted Chloe to her shoulder and patted and rubbed until a large burp escaped the babe's mouth. Then she put her daughter back in her cradle. But she was barely aware of what she did because her mind was fixed on Esmeralda's last words to her.
Is it possible for a woman to rule a man?
Can I use seduction to persuade Daniel not to send Chloe away?
During their first time together, he'd almost said he loved her.
Can I use the skills Esmarelda taught me to make him care again?

What choice do I have, other than to meekly sit back and let Daniel send my baby daughter away?
He intended to make Isabel his leman, whether she wanted it or not. Perhaps if she used all the weapons nature and Esmeralda had given her, she could once again enthrall him so he'd let her keep Chloe, at least until the babe was a proper age to foster.

After making sure Chloe was truly asleep, Isabel turned her efforts toward helping Tess and Berta repack. Berta, a simple village woman, hired because she had a young baby and therefore plenty of milk, was unfamiliar with the ways of the castle, plus she had her own babe to care for, so she was of little use. Nevertheless, by the time Chloe had roused from her nap, Isabel was ready to lead a parade of servants carrying chests and baby furnishings out of the residence hall, across the ward and up the flight of stairs leading to the great hall.

She considered using the hidden door that led directly from the second floor of the guests' quarters into the solar, but didn't want to make the doorway common knowledge. For all she knew, she might someday want to flee through it.

In the solar, she found Father Clemens perched on a stool beside a table stacked with parchment scrolls. He looked up from his work, his eyes magnified by the eyeglasses he wore when working over manuscripts. For a second he appeared irritated by the interruption, but his expression quickly changed to concern when he saw Isabel with Chloe in her arms. He looked from her to the servants laden with her possessions and his frown grew deeper.

“So it's true. You are moving back to the tower.”

Not wanting to have this scene play out in front of the others, Isabel stepped closer to the priest and waved the servants on. “Take everything up to the nursery and I'll be there shortly to tell you where to place things.”

Then she turned back to the priest. “Yes, Father. I'm moving back to the tower.”

“Do you think this is wise, my child?”

She looked at him with amazement that quickly turned to anger. “I am obeying Lord Daniel's orders. What else can I do?”

Father Clemens placed a hand against his cheek as if he felt a sudden toothache.

Chloe, who had been resting quietly in her mother's arms, lunged with lightning reflexes for the eyeglasses. One of her chubby hands wrapped around the wire frames that held the thick pieces of glass in place. Isabel grabbed Chloe's wrist and Father Clemens delicately pried her fingers away from his glasses. As he checked to see how badly the frames were bent, Isabel decided it was time to put an end to this uncomfortable conversation.

“Excuse me, Father, but the others are waiting for me.” She hurried on not at all sorry for her rudeness to the old priest.
How dare he hold me responsible for Daniel's actions. But if I explained the matter more fully to him, would he help me?

She couldn't remember the good father ever criticizing Kendrick when he ruled Tewsbarrow, so she doubted he would do anything other than continue to blame her.

* * * *

Daniel had decided to exercise his warhorse that afternoon. When Sir Robert learned Daniel was going to put the horse through his paces, the knight asked to join him. They met Sir Alfred on the way to the gate and he too expressed an interest in the training of warhorses, so they all went to a meadow outside the walls. Daniel demonstrated how his great horse would follow commands to rear and kick and charge. Many of the castle's men-at-arms gathered along the walls to watch.

It pleased Daniel to be back in the company of other soldiers and doing work he was familiar with and good at. He returned to the stable a happy man, telling the stable boy to give Jasper a good rubdown and extra feed. He entered the gate of the inner ward and saw Father Clemens hurrying toward him. The little man's uncommon speed caused his brown robe to swish against the ground.

As he grew near, Daniel could almost feel his agitation. “Is something amiss with the scrolls, Father?”

The priest seemed taken aback. “The scrolls? No, no, all's well, except my work was disturbed by people moving Lady Chloe and Lady Isabel into the tower.”

Is this timid man of God about to chastise me?
Daniel was getting tired of the people here not respecting his authority. “I'm sorry if you were distracted, but they should finish quickly.”

“It wasn't just the distraction that disturbed me. Perhaps we could go into the chapel for a private talk.”

Daniel planted his fists on his hips and stared down at the shorter man, determined to draw the line here and now as to who ruled Tewsbarrow. “I'm hot and tired. If you have something to say, say it now.”

The father blinked up at him, and for a moment Daniel thought he wouldn't continue, but then he said, “You are a young man who has had great power thrust upon him. Do not lose sight of the fact that great responsibility comes with great power. Not only are you charged to protect the people here, but also to set an example they can gauge their own behavior against.”

Daniel felt his irritation growing. “As my uncle did?”

The priest visibly reddened. “Lord Kendrick may have taken advantage of Isabel's family situation, but he did give her the protection of his name. If you openly abuse a lady such as Isabel what woman will be safe from abuse in your domain?”

“What makes you so sure Isabel is a lady?”

The question startled the father and then seemed to outrage him. “I've known her since she was a small child. Until she married Lord Kendrick, she always lived in the bosom of a loving family. Her father was a knight.”

“People aren't always what they seem to be.”

“Yes, your actions prove that.”

“If you don't like the way I rule Tewsbarrow, feel free to leave.” Daniel stalked away without giving the priest a chance to reply.

His cheerfulness gone, he strode into the hall, making it a point to return the sly glances of the servants with angry glares. He met Tess as he approached the solar door, and she had the nerve to glare back. He resisted the temptation to ask her how she'd like to work in the washhouse and marched up the tower's circular staircase, fully expecting to find more mutiny in his chamber.

He opened the door and found a dream. Isabel stood near a large wooden tub and smiled in welcome. “I heard you'd been working with horses this afternoon, so I thought you might appreciate a relaxing bath.”

Buckets had been placed near the fireplace and a kettle warmed over the fire. Isabel was dressed in a plain white gown with a white cloth wrapped around her head, not to hide her hair, but rather to keep it away from her face and neck. He could see long raven curls touching the middle of her back. Her cheeks were flushed, probably from working to heat water, but the color made her look younger and happier.

This was the woman he'd so often dreamed about. He stepped toward her and then forced himself to stop. He couldn't let her know how much he still desired her. “Thank you. I could use a bath.”

She immediately moved to help him undress. After removing his mantle and tunic, she motioned for him to sit in a chair near the fireplace and removed his boots. She acted as though kneeling at his feet and pulling off his muddy boots was an honor. When he stood, she helped him remove his hose and braies without hesitation.

Seeming in no way affected by his naked body, she took his hand and led him over to the tub as if she were a good wife dutifully serving her husband. Anger over her calmness damped his raging urge to throw her on the bed and plunder her body. He gritted his teeth and let her steady him as he stepped inside the tub and seated himself on the low stool there. He couldn't let such a devious woman know how she fired his blood or she'd quickly have him dancing like a trained bear on her leash.

She brought a bucket of water from the fireside, dipped a sponge into it and then began to wash him, using soap that smelled of lavender. When his back was thoroughly soaped, she poured dippers of water to rinse him. Then she started on his arms. Her work was quick and efficient as if she frequently bathed men. Perhaps she did. But even knowing what she was, her attentions soothed him. When her sponge moved to his neck, he held his head back and closed his eyes savoring the rough texture of the sponge made slick by the soap.

When she swabbed his chest and moved down to his belly his heart began to hammer and his cock twitched. In a soft voice, she asked him to stand. Then she washed his legs, coming ever closer to his upper thighs. He had given up trying to keep himself from hardening but took the sponge from her hand before she could wash that part of him, lest he disgrace himself by losing all control. He hadn't realized how badly he wanted her until this moment.