Chapter 35

“S hut yer mouth, bitch, before I shut it for you, and get your stuff out of here.”

“What’s going on? Who is that?” Brianna asked, but the man and woman were too busy exchanging threats to pay heed to her. She went up the beautifully curved staircase and turned left onto the open balcony. She found the pair inside a spacious chamber, playing tug-of-war with a trunkful of gowns. “Who is this?” Brianna repeated.

They both spoke at once, giving very different replies. Paddy said, “She’s a prisoner.”

The dark beauty replied, “I am Lisette St. L?, Baroness.”

Paddy made a rude noise. “She’s nothing but a French whore who has taken over the master bedchamber as if she owns the place. I’ll have her rubbish out of here in a jiffy, my lady.”

Lisette sat down on her trunk with determination. “Hawksblood will decide which one of us shares his bed!”

Brianna stiffened. She stared at the Frenchwoman in shocked surprise. She blanched white as the blood drained from her face. Though her emotions were in chaos, her mind in total disarray, she somehow managed to look completely detached. “Come away, Paddy. I’ll choose another chamber on the other side of the house. You may put my things in there.”

She walked blindly in the opposite direction until she encountered Adele. Paddy was following Brianna, silently cursing Lisette, cursing himself for not rousting her from the master chamber yesterday, and cursing Hawksblood for sending the woman here to Bordeaux in the first place. The bloody cat was among the pigeons and he feared where the blame would fall. He knew Lady Brianna was almost sacred to Christian, and if she was upset by this French poule , he’d be in shit up to his eyeballs!

“Hawksblood has been keeping a woman here. Here, in this palace,” Brianna said, wide-eyed with disbelief at what she had actually seen.

“Come and sit down, lamb. Don’t be upset over a little tart like that.” Adele glared at Paddy, who shrugged helplessly and asked, “Which chamber would you like, my lady?”

Brianna was moving from distress to anger. It seemed everybody knew about the baroness but her! “It doesn’t matter. All the chambers are exceedingly lovely in this palace. Just be sure you choose one that has a strong lock and key.”

Paddy disappeared to do her bidding. Adele said quickly, “He’s holding her and her brother, the baron, for ransom. She’s his prisoner…it’s not what it seems.”

“Oh? What does it seem, Adele?”

Adele flushed. “Well, you know…that she’s his mistress.”

“Exactly! Or should we say one of his mistresses? He’s an Arabian, don’t forget!”

“Oh, my lamb, don’t let her spoil your pleasure in this lovely palace. It has a marble bathing pool and the gardens will take your breath away. And there’s a fountain and a jade tile pond with gold and silver fishes darting about—”

“Of course I shan’t let her spoil my pleasure. Did Paddy happen to tell you how in the world the Arabian came to own such a place?”

Adele knew Brianna must be furious to refer to her lord husband as “the Arabian.” “Well, he did tell me about the first time they came to Bordeaux. When Hawksblood saw Warrick’s palatial home, he bought this one that stood next to it. At that time, he had never met the Earl of Warrick and only suspected him of being his sire. Paddy said it was a matter of pride. He had to buy a house that was bigger and better than Warrick’s.”

“But where did he get the money?”

“Paddy said he bought it with gold .”

“Well, Paddy is a veritable treasure-trove of information. Did he happen to mention from whom he stole the gold?”

Adele bit her lip. It was unlike Brianna to be icily sarcastic. “I’ll go and see where he has put your trunks. Put your feet up and have a little rest.” Adele found Paddy across the hall in a pretty room that had been plastered in palest pink.

He muttered, “If she intends to lock the door against Hawksblood, she doesn’t know her husband very well.”

“You bloody fool, Paddy. Why wasn’t she out of the master suite before Brianna arrived?”

“Because she’s a sodding woman! They live just to cause trouble and aggravation.”

“Well! That’s a fine thing to say!”

“Now, love, I didn’t mean you. I know you avoid trouble like the plague. So take my advice and make yourself scarce when himself arrives. He’ll soon settle Lisette’s bloody hash, and if Lady Brianna gives him any aggravation, he’ll settle her hash too! Here is her bloody key, for what good it’ll do her!” He gave the key to Adele. “Wish me luck, darlin’…I’m off to drag the Frenchie out by the scrag of her neck and lock her in a cubbyhole somewheres.”

Lady Joan Holland had a ton of baggage to be taken aboard ship. Her clothes, furs, and jewelry alone filled a dozen trunks. Her own featherbed was carried aboard to assure her comfort and she would sleep aboard the night before the ship departed, so they could sail on the early morning tide.

Her good-byes to her brother were tearful. “I wish you were coming with me, Edmund.”

“I’m the crown’s representative here in Calais, Joan,” he said regretfully.

“Don’t pretend you are unhappy about it, Edmund. Your position draws females like honeybees.”

He winked at her. “Position is everything, my sweet, remember that!”

“Why do men always have to be vulgar?”

“Don’t tell me approaching motherhood has turned you all prim and proper?” he teased.

“It’s time you thought about settling down and having children, Edmund. My little girl will need cousins to play with.” She kissed him. “Good-bye, Edmund. I’ll miss you.”

“You will love Bordeaux. Southern France is like paradise.” His careless air became serious for a moment. “For God’s sweet sake, have a care for yourself, Joan.” He wrapped her fur about her shoulders and squeezed affectionately.

“The angels take care of me, Edmund,” she said softly.

“I believe they do, sweetheart.”

Joan and Glynis had half a dozen of Holland’s men escort them to the ship. It was Sir John’s last night in garrison headquarters. He would come directly to the ship in time for the early morning floodtide.

Edmund of Kent made his way from Joan’s house to the garrison in the center of Calais. Holland greeted him, “I’m glad you dropped in, my lord earl. I’ve appointed Sir Neville Wiggs to take over my command here. He’s not opposed to using strong-arm tactics if and when they are required.”

“Oh, I don’t believe we’ll have trouble in Calais. I believe we’ve anglicized the town. Although I do concede there are some seedy areas with pox-diseased drabs along the docks.”

Holland shook his head. “We’ve had trouble in one of the better-heeled neighborhoods. Over on the south side there are a couple of high-priced brothels need watching. I could show you the areas that need patrolling if you fancy a walk, my lord.”

“Well, by an amazing coincidence, I’m going in that direction this evening, Sir John. There’s nothing like an evening stroll to work up an appetite.”

The two men headed south, toward the larger houses where the richest burghers lived. They passed the imposing house where the queen had stayed, then turned a corner into what looked like an alley. “It’s these back streets that need patrolling. Ah, good, I see one of our men is on the job.”

As the man-at-arms approached them, Holland unsheathed a wide-bladed knife with an extremely lethal point and drove it forcefully into Edmund of Kent’s back. With an agonized cry he went down between the two men, his lifeblood gushing up from the massive wound as Holland first twisted, then withdrew the blade.

“A knife in the back is not unheard of in this wealthy part of Calais. It’s extremely good pickings for thieves.” He bent to lighten his victim of his moneybelt. As Edmund’s eyes were clouding with death, Holland smiled at him. “Don’t worry yourself about my wife, she has just come into a fortune.” He wiped the dripping blade on his handkerchief, then sheathed it beneath his arm. “Sir Neville, if by chance you do encounter trouble on the streets tonight, be certain to report it after the cog royal has sailed.”

Wiggs saluted him smartly with his sword. “Good-bye, sir. Thank you for your confidence in me. You won’t regret it.”

Paddy found Hawksblood with Warrick. They were in the stables where they had just finished sewing up the wounds of half a dozen destriers injured on the voyage from England. Actually they were fortunate none had to be destroyed. When a warhorse broke loose below decks, the result could be catastrophic.

They had spent the entire day unloading horses, their most precious cargo. Those belonging to the royals and the nobles were stabled. Those of lesser knights were put into outdoor paddocks.

The moment Hawksblood saw Paddy’s face, he sensed trouble. “Is there a problem?”

“In a manner of speaking, there is, my lord.”

Ali, who had helped unload and calm horses for the last eighteen hours, cast him a look of disgust. “We’ve handled three thousand equines and you cannot handle two females?”

“ Three females, and I guarantee they can wreak more havoc than three thousand horses!”

“Three?” Hawksblood questioned. Then he smote his forehead. “How obtuse of me. I forgot all about Lisette St. L?.”

Warrick cocked an eyebrow at his son. “I take it the French filly you hold for ransom is more mistress than prisoner?”

“Hell, no. She was never my mistress. Christ, one tumble and I have to pay for it the rest of my life!” He looked at Warrick with speculative eyes. “Will you house the St. L?s until their ransom is paid?”

“I suppose I’d better, if you ever expect another peaceful night as long as you live,” Warrick said with a grin.

The four men made their way to the two white stone palaces bathed in moonlight. As Warrick broke from the group to enter his own dwelling, Christian said, “We’ll be right back.”

As he opened the gate in the high wall that surrounded his own imposing palace, Christian ventured, “Is my lady very upset?”

“Mad as hellfire is my guess. Ye cannot keep two women ye’ve bedded beneath the same roof,” Paddy explained as if Christian were an untried boy.

“We manage to do so in Arabia,” Ali said in lofty tones. “It is common practice to keep four wives as well as concubines.”

“We’ll let you explain it all to Lady Brianna,” Paddy said sarcastically.

“Where did you put the baroness?”

“I put her in her brother’s rooms and threatened him with castration if he didn’t keep her under control,” Paddy supplied.

“Move them next door to Warrick,” Hawksblood directed.

Christian Hawksblood inspected the master suite to see that all was in readiness to receive his wife. He nodded with satisfaction. Paddy had directed the servants well. The room was all white with touches of gold. The bed was low and wide, covered with snowy linen and piled with bolsters and pillows embroidered with the initials of C and B in gold thread. Filmy white silk gauze hung from ceiling to floor, surrounding the bed.

White shutters were folded back making the open balconies part of the large, airy chamber. One entire wall was a built-in wardrobe with mirrored doors. The floor of white Carrara marble veined with gold was guaranteed to provide coolness on the hottest nights.

In one corner, marble steps led down to the room below where a rectangular bathing pool ran its entire length. The room was open-ended so that the pool flowed outside into a small private garden. Beyond the pool, a turquoise tile fountain sprayed crystal drops of water ten feet into the air. The entire house was lighted by huge scented candles in round glass bowls. The effect was almost mystical and decidedly romantic.

Christian Hawksblood, however, looked anything but romantic. His clothes were soiled with the sweat and blood of his labors of the past eighteen hours, and he stank of horseflesh. He wanted a bath, but he was damned if he was going to bathe alone when Brianna was right here in this enchanting palace he had provided for her.

He pushed away his tiredness, then allowed all his annoyances to drain away. He cocked an eyebrow at Paddy. “Milady’s chamber?”

His squire told him where he could find his wife, muttering, “I’ll bid ye good night, I cannot stand the sight o’ blood.”

Hawksblood climbed the curving staircase and came to a halt outside his wife’s door. In a quiet but firm voice he said, “Brianna, I welcome you to your new home. I expect you to greet me as your lord. I need bathing, feeding, and bedding, in that order. Come to me, now.”

Secure inside the pink chamber with the key firmly gripped in her palm, Brianna at last had an outlet for her fury. “You Arabian swine! I don’t know how you have the unmitigated gall to even speak my name. I shall never bathe you, I shall never feed you, and I shall certainly never bed you again! I suggest you bathe yourself, ask the servants to feed you, and allow your French harlot to bed you. You have no need for a wife whatsoever, and I shall cease to be your wife until that creature is removed from my home, permanently! Is that perfectly clear, Prince Bloody Drakkar?”

It was clear to Christian that Brianna wanted a knock-down-drag-out fight. She wanted him to smash the door down and manhandle her until her teeth rattled. Christian refused to accommodate her. He took his heavy dagger from its sheath, pried the hinges from the door, and quietly opened it.

Brianna stared in disbelief at what he had done with so little effort.

His eyes glittered in his dark face. His look was so intense, a finger of fear touched her. In a voice so quiet, it was almost a threat, he said, “Since the baroness has been removed from your home, permanently, I take it you are ready to resume your role as my wife…or do you have more demands, madam?”

He had taken away all her arguments. Her defiance fled. She could find no more words to fling at him.

“Do you, madam?” he repeated.

Brianna shook her head.

“Then come. Now.”

She looked helplessly at her boxes and trunks piled about her and knew she must obey him. He was in no mood to be trifled with.

As they emerged onto the well-lit balcony, she saw that he was covered with blood. “Are you hurt?” she asked with alarm.

“Nay. Don’t touch me. It will all wash off.”

She walked beside him through the house, past the bathing pool and out to the garden. In silence she watched him strip and step into the fountain. He took up a cake of soap and began to scrub himself. Immediately her feelings toward him began to thaw. He was not going to force her to bathe him. Suddenly, that was exactly what she wanted to do. She was the only woman who had the right to bathe him, feed him, and bed him, and it dawned on her that she wanted to guard that right jealously. She removed her outer garment and standing in her filmy underdress, held out her hand. “Give me the soap.”

“I thank you for the wifely gesture, but you were right, I can bathe myself. However, since you are willing to get wet, will you come into the pool with me after I eat?”

Brianna blushed. “I…I cannot swim.”

He smiled at her. “Good, then we won’t swim…we’ll play.”

“I’ll go and see about food,” Brianna said vaguely.

“The kitchens are all the way to the back of the house. We have a superb chef, if I recall from the last time I was here. The beauty of this warm climate is the food tastes better cold than hot.”

When Brianna returned with a servant in tow, Christian had set up a table in the fragrant garden. He was sitting on a double-wide chair called a loveseat, wearing only a towel, which emphasized his swarthy skin. He had lit small candles inside huge white blossoms and set them on the table. The effect was exotically romantic.

The servant emptied his tray, covering the table with platters of cold meat, soft cheese, and crusty bread, along with such a variety of fruit and nuts, Brianna could name only half. He took a stone jug of wine from a cooling pool and deftly removed the cork seal.

Brianna waited until he withdrew before she slipped into the chair beside Hawksblood. To keep her eyes from his iron-hard body, she pretended a great interest in the food. Christian named each one for her. “Figs, dates, tangerines, almonds, filberts.” He dipped a crust into melted Brie and lifted it to her lips. She was pleasantly surprised at its delicious taste and helped herself liberally to the food.

“You are hungry,” he said, wondering why she hadn’t eaten.

She read his thoughts. “I was too angry to eat,” she explained.

He exulted at her words. If she was jealous of him, her emotions ran much deeper than she admitted. He longed to hear her say she loved him, but she was such a stubborn wench, she wasn’t even ready to admit it to herself, let alone to him. He wondered if he would live long enough to hear her say the words.

Christian received deep pleasure from simply looking at her. As she nibbled the fruit and sipped the wine, she seemed unconscious of her beauty. Her hair fell about her in a golden nimbus, the candleglow making it shimmer. He could see the rose tips of her breasts through the fine material of her underdress, and as she ran her tongue over her top lip to taste the sweetness of the wine, his long-simmering desire exploded into molten hot passion. He wanted her in the bed. He saw their bodies entwine, then couple, as he slid deep inside her. His loins were hot and hard and ready.

His hands moved swiftly to remove her underdress, but the moment she was naked she fled to the shadowed end of the bathing pool. He took the exotic flowers from the table with the lighted candles inside their petals, then bent down and floated them on the water. The effect was mesmerizing. As they glided toward her, she suddenly wanted them to reveal her naked beauty to him.

Brianna stepped from the shadows to the pool’s edge, then she arched her body, first thrusting out her breasts, then her pelvis. She raised her arms beneath her long hair and let its golden tendrils cascade about her shoulders and down her back to her feet. Christian slipped into the pool and glided slowly toward her. The light of the floating candles filled her vision, but excitement built inside her because she knew he was coming for her, knew he was somewhere in the shadowed water.

When she looked down, Brianna realized there were steps leading into the water. Hesitantly, she took the first step down toward him. She could not see him, could not even hear him make the smallest splash. Boldly, she took the next step and felt the warm scented water swirl about her knees. Then his hands were on her ankles, slipping up her legs, his hot mouth trailing up the insides of her thighs, finally showering her pretty mons with teasing kisses.

It held him enthralled for long minutes, and Brianna, unable to resist his insistent mouth, again arched her pelvis. His tongue licked her with long strokes until she was hot and wet. When she moaned her need and moved down toward him, he stayed her and came up out of the pool. With his lips against her ear he whispered, “I don’t want your hair wet. I want to play with it. I want to take you up to bed.”

She expected him to pick her up and carry her, but she did not anticipate the way he did it! He lifted her high and let her slide down his wet, sleek body. He slipped his hand between them to open the petals of her woman’s center, then guided the throbbing head of his rigid shaft up inside her. Brianna wrapped her arms about his neck, and he murmured hoarsely, “Wrap your legs about me too.”

As she raised her legs to wrap them about his waist, he slid deeper than he had ever been before. With his hands supporting her bottom cheeks, he walked slowly toward the stairs that led up to their bedchamber. Dear God, this man could arouse her against her will. The feel of him inside her was so potent, she could think of nothing but the pleasurable sensations like waves that built and receded, built and receded; ever higher, ever stronger. As he began to climb the stairs the sleek friction of engorged male muscle inside love-swollen female flesh became so exquisite that by the time he reached the top step she experienced a powerful orgasm that made her arch backward as she cried out her pleasure.

Her new position intensified the pure sensuality of their coupling and Christian felt the entire length of his shaft being squeezed by the pulsations of her tight, hot sheath. He stood absolutely still so they could both enjoy her climax, then when the last tremor and flicker of her swollen bud stilled, he carried her to the bed and set about arousing her all over again. Slowly, beautifully, as if they had forever.

Indeed, it seemed as if an eternity passed while she writhed and arched and gasped, then finally erupted with him. It was like a volcanic explosion, bathing each other in molten lava. His possessive arms enfolded her like bands of iron, and deep down, Brianna knew that such intensity was rare. Few lovers could possibly experience coitus as they did.

Moonlight spilled across the bed. “Christian, I was so jealous, I wanted to kill her,” Brianna whispered. “I…I’m beginning to understand the dark evil that drove you to kill Robert.”

He withdrew his arms from her, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed to sit up. She caught a glimpse of blazing eyes in a face turned to stone. He turned away from her. She saw his hard profile in the moonlight, then he was gone, swallowed by the shadows.

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