Two Passionate Proposals (12 page)

He stroked her again, then lifted his hand,
pressing his body hard against her, letting her know his need. “Tell me again.”

“I love you,” she breathed, half in a daze.
Suddenly, she realised what she’d said and bit her lip, but Henry didn’t seem
to notice, had already shifted on top of her. He slid inside her, and began to
move, going deeper with each thrust.

The wave struck her with full force this
time, stronger than before, and for a brief moment she thought her orgasm wasn’t
going to subside. He continued to move inside her, his muscles tightening, and
he spilled into her with a deep groan. She clenched her thighs around him,
gasping, damp with sweat. Even if the castle guard were to burst through the
doors declaring the castle was under siege, she doubted she could find the
energy to rise.

Afterwards, completely spent, too tired to
talk, she lay facing him. He propped his head on his hand, watching her,
kissing her occasionally until her eyelids drooped. She was aware, as she was
dozing off, that he still watched her. She noticed his unhappy expression, and
she wanted to ask him why he frowned, but before she could form the words, she
fell asleep.

*

She awoke to morning light, the bright June
sun streaming through the gap where the curtain sagged at the window. She stretched,
an unfamiliar stiffness in her body, and smiled, remembering the events of the
night before.

Turning over to see if he was awake, she
found the bed empty. A single red rose lay on the pillow beside her.

Her heart seemed to stop. She remembered the
way he’d paused on the stairs, telling her he had to get his squire to ready
his horse for first light. He was gone. She would never see him again.

She sat up, picked up the flower, and
touched her lips to the soft petals of the rose. She felt empty, as hollow as
if she had been scooped out with a spoon.

“What have I done?” Tears slid down her
pale cheeks. “I was only supposed to surrender the castle…not my heart.”

*

Eleanor shaded her eyes from the late
afternoon sun as she rested in the grass by the lake to the south of Woodford.
She turned from her view across the lake to the forest and saw her steward
walking toward her. She sighed as she noted the tray of bread and cheese, and
the cup of ale in his hands.

“Please, my lady,” he said as he approached.
“You must eat something. It has been three days now—you have eaten so little
and grown so pale.”

“I am all right, thank you.” She managed a
small smile. “Do not worry. My loss of appetite is only temporary.”

He hesitated, then placed the tray to one side
of her. “In case you fancy a bite.” Shoulders drooping, he began the walk up to
the castle.

Eleanor watched him go, sighed, and turned
back to the lake view. The setting wasn’t that different from the scene where
Henry had first told her he would love her forever. Ten years ago, she had
believed him, had trusted him implicitly. And now, she’d lost him—for the
second time.

She didn’t blame him for leaving. Theirs
was not a world where love triumphed over the necessities of daily life, and
she’d known when she asked him to bed her that he would leave the next day. She
didn’t blame him for leaving without saying goodbye, either. The night had been
magical, for him as well as for her, she was sure, and the rose he’d left on
the pillow told her he’d been sorry to go. Maybe he’d left quietly to try and
make it easier for both of them.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel
sorrow at their parting. She watched two swans swimming gracefully around the
lake, their movement leaving a V in the water behind them. Hadn’t someone once
told her swans mated for life?

Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked
them away. She’d cried enough. But one lone drop forced its way out and trailed
down her cheek. Why was life so cruel? She’d done her duty marrying Geoffrey,
had lain with him whenever he requested, without argument, had kept his house,
and looked after him to the best of her abilities. Didn’t she deserve some
happiness?

She sat for several hours, watching the
reflection of the clouds on the water. Briefly, she considered running away,
but couldn’t decide where she should go. Anywhere would be better than ending
up married to another oafish lout. But she couldn’t do it. A woman travelling
on her own would be looking for trouble, and there was nobody to whom she could
go for help. Her aunt resided in France, her parents were dead, and she had no
other relatives she knew well in England. No, she was doomed to a life of
servitude and drudgery; there was nothing she could do, so she might as well
get on with it.

Irritated with herself for slipping into
the pit of despair, she got to her feet. She had just begun to brush the grass
from her skirt when she heard horse’s hooves in the distance. She looked up,
shading her eyes, seeing two riders approaching over the brow of the hill from
the direction of the castle. One of them rode a large black steed.

For a moment, she thought she was going to
faint, but she remained on her feet by sheer will, her pulse throbbing in her
throat. It couldn’t be…

She watched the riders draw near, knowing
before she could make out their faces they were the two brothers de Tracey.

Both of them skidded to a halt a few yards
from the lake, Henry dismounting before the horse had stopped moving, Richard,
seconds behind him. Dusty and tired-looking from travel, the two of them walked
up to her. Clearly, they hadn’t stopped for a bath at the castle.

“Gentlemen.” She dipped a low curtsey. Her
heart thumped, but she was determined not to show how flustered she felt. He
was there to inform her about her future, nothing more.

Henry nodded. “My lady.”

The two men gave a short bow, amidst an
awkward silence.

She had to say something and cleared her
throat. “You came back then.”

Richard looked at Henry, who raised an
eyebrow. “So it would appear.” His face was expressionless; she couldn’t read
what he was thinking.

“Did you have a good trip?” she asked.

“Pleasant enough. London is not the nicest
place to be when the weather is hot.”

“Did you get to go to the theatre?”

“No, although we did visit—”

Richard huffed. “For God’s sake, man, stop
talking nonsense and tell her the news.”

“News?” Her mouth went dry.

Henry looked at the ground. “I saw the king
while I was in London. I have secured you a husband.”

She swallowed, trying to remember to
breathe. “W-what is his name?”

“He is the Earl of Dartington.”

She couldn’t recall having heard of an Earl
of Dartington before. “Oh.” Panic swelled, and she took a deep breath, trying
to remain calm. “Is he…is he old?”

He considered her question. “Not that old,
I think.”

“Is he a good man?”

He looked across at Richard, who shrugged.
Henry tipped his head. “Some would say so.” He frowned at her. “Ella, do you
not want to ask me if he is handsome, or powerful, or rich, or all the other
things I thought mattered to a woman?”

Her lip trembled. “Do not mock me. I do not
care about any of that. If he does not beat me, if he is kind and gentle, I
would be happy enough.”

“Oh, Ella…”

Richard rolled his eyes. “For the love of
God…put her out of her misery, Henry.” Richard came over to her and took her
hand, looking into her eyes. “He is talking about himself, Ella. He asked the
king for permission to take you as his wife. Of course, the king had heard
about how beautiful you are and said no—he wanted you for one of his relatives,
but Henry would not take no for an answer. He argued with the king!”

Henry shot him an amused look. “Enough,
Richard, or she will not be able to get her head through the hall doors.”

“The king agreed, only to shut him up, I
think.” Richard smiled. He kissed her on her cheek. “I shall be proud to call
you sister. I hope the news does not disappoint you too much.” Grinning, he
walked back and mounted his horse. “I shall meet you back at the castle.” He
flicked his hand at his brother. “I think you should catch her, Henry, before
she passes out and rolls into the lake.” He winked at her, and with that, he
put his heels to his horse and sent it trotting up the hill.

Eleanor stared after him, her mind
whirling. She looked back at Henry, who was watching her, but now he was
smiling. “Are you disappointed?” he asked.

“What?” Eleanor could not wrap her mind
around this new information. “What was Richard talking about? Who is the Earl
of Dartington?”

“That would be me.” He grinned. “It seems King
Edward was pleased with my siege of Woodford, and in spite of my refusal to let
him gift you to his cousin, he decided to reward me with an earldom and an
obedient wife.” He shrugged and teased, “I suppose one out of two is not bad.”

Still, she said nothing. His smile faded,
and he frowned, stepping closer and taking her hands. “Ella, I honestly thought
you would be pleased with this news. But if it is not what you want, you must
tell me now.”

She stared at him. “You?” she said faintly.
“I am to marry you?”

“Yes, Ella.”

“Forever?”

He began to smile again. “Yes.”

“And we can live together, and go to bed
every night, together?”

He pulled her toward him. “Yes, Ella,” he
murmured, running his hands up her arms and enclosing her in a warm embrace. “Does
that please you?”

She was shaking, and she could not seem to
stop. “Oh, Henry, I…”

A thought entered her head, and the joy
that had started to rise within her came to a shuddering stop. “I cannot.” She
pulled back from him and turned away.

“What?” He caught her hand, refusing to let
go. “What is the matter?”

“Let me go.”

“No.” He turned her round. “I thought this
was what you wanted.”

She glared at him, tears of frustration
welling in her eyes. “Have you forgotten, Henry, I am barren. I cannot have
children; you need an heir.”

“I knew you were going to bring that up.”
He sighed with exasperation. “Richard owes me fifty groats.”

“Fifty groats!”

“Ella… Try to focus. Before we rode to the
castle, Richard and I went into the village. I found Joan, the blacksmith’s daughter.”

“Joan?” She tried to get her brain to work.
The name sounded familiar. Then realisation hit her. “You mean the mother of
Geoffrey’s child?”

“Apparently not. She admitted to me she’d
had other lovers while she was bedding Geoffrey—one of whom happens to be the
exact image of the babe, right down to the birthmark on his backside.”

She stared at him. “She told you that? Why?”

He shrugged. “A generous bribe encouraged
the admission.”

“I do not understand. What difference does
this make to me?”

He put his hands on his hips, exasperated. “God’s
teeth, you are making this hard work. Look, it happened to my cousin—she
married a man who’d had a daughter by another woman, and she thought her
inability to conceive a child was her fault, but when he died, she married
again, and she now has three healthy sons.”

“So… I might not be barren?”

His eyes twinkled as he pulled her toward
him once again. “Can you imagine what beautiful babies we might make?”

Now, she
was
at a complete loss for
words. She stared up at him, mouth slightly open, and he smiled as he laced his
hands through her hair.

“I told the truth, you know, that day by
the lake.” He stepped closer so their bodies touched. “And I never stopped
loving you.” He lowered his lips, capturing hers in a sweet, tender kiss.

After only a few moments, he pulled back,
frowning. He cupped her face, brushing her tears away with his thumbs. “Are you
sad, sweetheart?”

“I cannot believe it.” She was beginning to
shake again. “I thought I was going to have to marry someone else like
Geoffrey, I thought I’d lost you.”

“Did you think I would let you go, when I
had just found you again?”

“I…” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Are
you sure?”

“I was sure the minute I saw you riding out
of the castle to face an army alone. But I could not tell you before I left—I
had to ask the king’s permission first.”

“You really want to marry me?”

“Oh, come here.” He pulled her against his
chest and wrapped his arms around her, letting her sob for a while into his
tunic.

After a while, the tears stopped, and she
slid her arms around him. Her head rested on his chest, and while he stroked
her hair, she looked out across the lake, watching the swans gliding across the
surface together.

“That’s us,” he said.

She nestled into him. “They mate for life.”

He laughed. “I know; that is what I meant.”

She raised her face. “We are really going
to be together?”