Epic Knights of Legend and Steel

Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

P eace was restored by the time evening fell at Spexhall and the castle, for the most part, had returned to normal as the cool evening breezes began to blow. Torches upon the walls and fires in the bailey lit up the night skies as those inside the castle settled in for the evening.

De Wolfe had brought one thousand and twenty-seven men with him, all men sworn to Edward and previously stationed at Nottingham Castle, so Spexhall was quite full by the time evening fell. The quartermaster, as well as Elizaveta and Daniella, had pulled together a filling meal of stew and beans while the soldiers found space and warmth to bed down for the night.

The hall was filled with men as night crept upon them, men who had been traveling for some time to reach Spexhall as well as men who had fought a battle that day and the day before. Drake’s troops mingled with those of Edward, all of them weary and ready for some food and rest. A heavy haze of smoke hung in the hall from the hearth that had a partially-blocked chimney, but no one seemed to care. They were coughing, and drinking, and eating the bread that the quartermaster and several soldiers had been relegated to bake, and overall the mood was rather festive. Victory always made it festive, the aftermath of the death they had faced. The only person in the entire fortress who wasn’t relaxed, however, was Drake.

He’d seen two battles against his command in two days. More than that, he had a new wife he was increasingly enamored with and the strain of having to worry over her safety was something that was taking its toll on him. He wasn’t used to having to worry over another person, fearing for another’s safety, so all of this was very new to him. Moreover, he was afraid that someone would tell her about the body parts in the bailey or the fact that Lady de Witt’s body had been returned to them in deplorable shape.

Therefore, the moment he’d allowed her to unlock the keep and all of its many iron gates, he’d kept her close by his side. If anyone brought up the battle, he would change the subject, and when she asked about it, he gave her the most generic and un-upsetting responses he could think of. Why on earth he was so concerned for what she thought and what she heard, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he was. He didn’t want to see her upset in any way. Two battles in two days were upsetting enough, for anyone, and he was trying to make her life as worry-free as possible.

So he’d followed her everywhere after she’d left the keep, including to the big kitchen next to the hall where the evening meal was being prepared. He didn’t help, but he did stand by and watch her work with the quartermaster, seeing her calm and even manner in dealing with his men and appreciating it. Even when a clumsy soldier spilled a significant amount of flour, she never raised her tone at him. She simply helped him sweep it up.

Having been married such a short amount of time to the woman, Drake hadn’t really had much of an opportunity to simply watch her. He was very observant and he could see, in the time he studied her, that she had all of the great qualities he would have hoped for in a wife– kindness, even-tempered, and productive. She wasn’t afraid to delve into a task that needed to be done. Of course, the fact that she was radiantly beautiful only sweetened the deal. By the time the evening meal was being served to the men in the crowded, smoky hall, Drake was coming to think he was the most fortunate man in all of England to have married such a woman. He couldn’t even remember why he had been so reluctant to marry in the first place. His wife was fluid to watch, graceful and lovely. And she was his.

He was officially smitten.

As the evening meal went on, Drake’s determination to stick by Elizaveta’s side relaxed and he found himself sitting at the end of the big feasting table in the hall, surrounded by Devon, James, Cortez, de Wolfe, and a few lesser knights he knew by name only, younger men who had not yet earned a reputation within Edward’s ranks. They were here for the glory, for the rewards that could come their way if they were strong and brave and lucky. They were from fine families, serving the king because it was what their fathers wished.

There were also several squires, lads serving the knights in that capacity, including William’s cousin, Bowen de Shera, who was William’s aunt’s son and also the son of the hereditary king of Anglesey, Bhrodi de Shera. Bowen sat on the floor at William’s feet, a big lad with big, green eyes and dark hair, listening intently to the knights’ tales. Like the other squires, he was enamored with tales of glory and it was all part of all squires’ education as fighting men. Drake well remembered those days, squiring for some great knights at Kenilworth Castle. Those had been some of the best times of his life.

“I am sure Edward did not know that Spexhall’s former commander’s wife was a de Mandeville,” William was saying as Drake’s attention moved between the conversation and his wife as she moved around the room. “He would have never knowingly put you in such danger, Drake. I know you are aware of this.”

Drake tore his attention off of Elizaveta and turned to his friend. He and Cortez and Devon had just finished telling the table about the siege earlier in the day and the body parts flying over the castle walls. The knights listened with interest while the young squires had listened with horror.

“I am aware,” Drake said. “But the situation with them is something he must know. Something tells me that today will not be the last time I see the de Mandevilles.”

William wriggled his eyebrows in agreement, drinking of his tart, red wine as Elizaveta approached the table with a pitcher of wine in her hand. Drake’s attention was riveted to her immediately as she refilled the cups of her husband’s colleagues.

“Lady de Winter,” he greeted fondly. “Can you break from your duties for the moment to join us? I would like for de Wolfe to come to know you and be quite jealous of my good fortune.”

As Elizaveta grinned, de Wolfe laughed. “Although I am quite happy for your good fortune, de Winter, I have had good fortune of my own,” he said. “I married two years ago and we were blessed with a son last year. I wish you the same blessings, my friend. May you have many sons who will be just as naughty as you ever were.”

The knights grinned, chuckling at Drake’s expense but Elizaveta spoke. “I am sure our sons will be no more naughty than all of you were as boys,” she said, watching the knights concede her point. “It seems to me that all grown men are naughty boys to some extent, so I am sure none of you are exempt.”

Drake moved aside on the bench, helping Elizaveta to sit as she put her wine pitcher aside. He held her hand, feeling her warm fingers in his own. “What some might call naughty others might call spirit,” he said to her and to the rest of the table. “I would hope my sons would be spirited in the best sense of the word.”

De Wolfe concurred. “My son has already seen one year but already he likes to bang on things,” he said. “He has a little wooden sword, too dull to do any harm of course, but he bangs on everything with that sword as a true de Wolfe would.”

Elizaveta was smiling at the knight as he recollected his son. She could see the softness in his expression. “When did you last see your son, my lord?”

William looked at her. “Call me William, please, if your husband would allow it,” he said, glancing at Drake for approval. “My son’s name is Edward, after my grandfather’s father, and I last saw Edward four months ago, right after the battle of Caerlaverock. It was a brief visit but at least I was able to see him for a short while. I am afraid I will not be able to see him again for some time so I had to squeeze in all of the hugs and kisses that I could with him.”

Elizaveta felt some sorrow on the man’s behalf. “I am sorry to hear that,” she said. “Why will you not be able to see him soon?”

William, who had too many cups of wine in his veins, turned to Drake. His tongue was looser than it should have been and he didn’t give much thought to speaking of battle plans in front of a woman.

“Because I have been called to arms by Edward, much as your husband has been,” he said. “Drake, I bear a missive from Edward for you but I will tell you what it says– he is gathering an army at Hexham with the intention of marching through to Kerr lands to Jedburgh, where we have been informed several lowland border clan chiefs will be meeting around the New Year. Edward wants to break up that meeting for the purpose of obtaining valuable prisoners. Your orders tell you to bring eight hundred of the men I just delivered to you and then ask your father for another two thousand, or all that he can spare, and meet him at Hexham.”

Drake was listening intently, having no qualms about William speaking of Edward’s plans at a table of trusted knights. He would have never expected that Elizaveta was listening carefully, too, but not for the same reasons he was. She was listening carefully because she knew this was exactly the sort of information grandedame wanted, information directly from Edward on his intentions in Scotland.

Oh, God …. Elizaveta rolled the information over in her mind. Edward wants to ambush Scots leaders. He wants to catch them unaware . Certainly, grandedame would want to know of this to feed it to her network of spies who would then take the information to the Maxwells in Scotland. But what about Drake? If grandedame warned the Scots, then they would be prepared, waiting to kill the English when they arrived.

Waiting to kill Drake.

She looked at her husband as he discussed the orders with de Wolfe, watching Drake as he spoke confidently about the move north. She studied the lines of his face, the square cut of his jaw, her guts torn up at the thought of betraying the man. She wanted so badly to tell him what her grandmother wanted from their marriage but she was terrified to do it, still terrified that he might view her as a traitor, as if she were confessing something she had already done.

Nay, she hadn’t done anything yet, but she soon would. Fear of her grandmother gave her little choice in the matter. There was also the fear of Drake and how he would view her if he knew the truth of their marriage and why she had really agreed to it. Lastly, the fear that she was caught up in something that she did not know how to get out of, and fear on all sides had her shoved into a corner of her own making.

It was ironic, really. Drake thought her to be brave but she wasn’t brave at all. She was a horrible coward. Perhaps if she gave grandedame what she wanted, once or twice, and then no more after that, the woman might leave her alone or even hopefully die before she could press her for more information. Perhaps if she did her duty just this once, it would satisfy the old vulture and she would never have to do it again.

God, she was a fool.

“Hexham,” Drake was saying as Elizaveta hung her head. “That is near Newcastle, to the west, I believe.”

William nodded. “Aye,” he said. “I know that area well. Remember that I was born in Northumberland. Hexham has a road that leads north, straight through the borders and up to Jedburgh. Unless the Kerrs or the Elliots provide resistance, which they probably will not because of the size of Edward’s army, it should be a clear ride all the way to Jedburgh.”

Drake absorbed the information. “And this intelligence about the clan chief gathering is reliable?”

“Edward seemed to think it was.”

Drake nodded as if satisfied. “Then I suppose my father could spare a sizable army,” he said. “He may even want to come along. My father still yearns for battle, even as an old man.”

“He cannot come,” Devon said from across the table with Daniella sitting on his lap. “He is too old and you know it. Moreover, Mother would never let him come. She would tie him to a tree and beat him if he tried.”

Drake snorted at the mental image his brother painted. “Then mayhap he will spare Denys or Dallan,” he said. “We could use their swords.”

Devon nodded but was cut off from replying by Cortez. “I hope that missive does not include me, de Wolfe,” Cortez interjected. “The last Edward knew, I was back at Sherborne Castle. You only find me here because I attended Drake’s wedding at Thetford a few days ago. I was planning on returning home on the morrow.”

De Wolfe stabbed at a boiled carrot with his knife and shoved it in his mouth, his food having cooled because he was drinking and talking so much. “It is my guess that you have a missive waiting for you back at Sherborne that says much the same thing as Drake’s missive says,” he said, chewing. “If I were you, I would pretend that you did not hear what I just told de Winter and return to Sherborne Castle to see your wife before you are off to Scotland again. Edward is calling for all of his loyal barons to join him. He wants to capture the lowlands once and for all and move up to Edinburgh to garrison the city. There is no knowing how long we will all be gone for this campaign.”

Drake scratched his head thoughtfully, looking to his brother, who didn’t seem too pleased with the directive. These were orders they had been expecting but not so soon. Drake sighed.

“How soon are we to move?” he asked de Wolfe.

William stabbed another carrot. “As soon as you read the missive, he wants you to do as you are told and depart,” he replied, biting the carrot on his knife. “This will take some time, Drake, and if you are to make it to the borders in time to rendezvous with Edward, you must get about it. I am ordered to ride with you and we are expected to leave immediately. Edward wants us in Hexham by the latter part of November at the very latest.”

Drake was increasingly unhappy with the orders but there wasn’t much that could be done about them. “Great Bleeding Christ, I only just arrived at Spexhall,” he said, disappointment in his tone. “This was to be my holding, a castle to garrison for the crown, but now I am ordered to leave it as soon as I arrive? I am not entirely thrilled about that.”

William shrugged. “You were made garrison commander of Spexhall during the summer,” he said. “Plans change. They have changed yet again.”

Drake grunted, frustrated. “So I just leave it?” he asked. “I leave my post and my wife and trot off to Scotland?”

De Wolfe glanced at Elizaveta. The woman had her head lowered. “I would not leave her here,” he said. “After what you just told me about the de Mandevilles, send her back to Thetford to be with your mother. I most definitely would not leave her here.”

Drake turned to look at Elizaveta, who was sitting next to him looking at her lap. He was instantly fearful that all of this talk of departure and battle had upset her. He squeezed her hand.

“I have a new wife and a new post,” he said, meeting her eye when she looked up at him. He smiled. “I am not happy about leaving either, at least not so soon.”

Elizaveta forced a smile in return and Drake realized that he didn’t want to spend any more time in the hall with these men. He was going to see them for months to come. But he would not be seeing Elizaveta for months to come. The king’s new orders had made that impossible.

Drake had hoped he’d at least have some time to know his new wife, to explore the feelings he was already experiencing for her, but that was not to be. He was suddenly very eager to be alone with her, knowing it might be the last time for many months. The mere thought made him sick to his stomach, a sinking feeling he couldn’t conceal.

“Then if my departure is imminent, forgive me for saying that I do not wish to spend my final hours at Spexhall with your ugly faces,” he said, watching the men grin and Daniella stiffen in outrage. He lifted his hand to her, chuckling. “Not you, love. I did not mean you. I simply meant I would like to spend my last hours here with my wife, so you will excuse us. I will see you all at a later time.”

He was already standing up, pulling Elizaveta to her feet beside him. He climbed over the bench and helped her climb over it as well, hardly giving any notice to the men he was leaving behind. The smoky, smelly hall was full of men who were drinking and eating and engaging in games of chance. He saw more than one dice game as he made his way out of the hall with Elizaveta on his arm. There were times in the past when he would join in those games, but not tonight. Tonight, he had other things on his mind.

The evening outside was cold and bright and the fall weather was turning brisk. The trees were turning shades of orange and yellow as the leaves died, falling off only to be blown away by the blustery winds. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky as Drake and Elizaveta crossed the bailey under the bright half-moon, peppered with fires as men huddled around them for warmth and comfort, singing or laughing as they passed the time.

“The men seem very happy,” Elizaveta’s voice broke the stillness. “Are they always this way after a battle?”

Drake looked around at the men, most of them in the bailey from his personal forces. “There is something to be said for celebrating a victory,” he said. “Celebrating the fact that one is still alive. I do not begrudge my men the need to display their relief after a battle.”

“Relief?”

“Relief that they were not killed.”

Elizaveta understood. “And you?” she said, trying to sound casual. “Now you are going off to battle again, too.”

He clutched her fingers as she held on to his elbow. “Aye,” he said, sounding resigned. “That is my vocation in life. I am a knight and I go where Edward tells me to go and fight whomever he tells me to fight.”

Elizaveta hoped he wouldn’t tell her any more about it, information that she could pass on to grandedame . She was so torn with guilt at the moment that she could hardly breathe, guilt that she couldn’t seem to chase away no matter how she rationalized it. She struggled to wipe away the thoughts that threatened to consume her.

You will betray him….

“I have never been to Scotland.” She said the first thing that came to mind, anything to try and push away her feelings of guilt and that burdensome sense of duty that was hanging around her neck like an anchor. “My mother was born there but I have never been. I have heard it is quite a wild place and that they eat sheep bellies for sup.”

She made a face of disgust and Drake chuckled. “It is actually quite beautiful,” he said, “and the sheep bellies you speak of are more like sausages. They are stuffed and boiled.”

Elizaveta lifted her eyebrows in doubt. “That still does not sound entirely appetizing,” she said. “Mayhap I should send you with enough food so that you will not have to eat boiled sheep bellies.”

He had a half-grin on his face. “It is kind of you to be so concerned, but I will manage,” he said. “But I do not want to speak of that now. I want to speak of you and what you shall do when I am away.”

They were nearly at the keep by this point, the front entry gate of which was locked. Elizaveta used her free hand to fish the rope of keys out of her apron pocket and hand it over to Drake, who had to let go of her in order to open the gate.

“You told de Wolfe that I was to go to Thetford while you were away,” she said as he disengaged the lock. “Is that what you truly wish for?”

Drake yanked open the iron gate and admitted her in first before following and pulling the gate closed behind them.

“It is,” he said, handing her back the keys. “After what happened today with the de Mandevilles, I do not believe it is safe for you here. As you heard me tell de Wolfe, I do not believe that will be the last I see of them and I would hate to have them return while I am gone and you are here without me.”

They entered the room with the big hearth and the spiral stairs that led to the upper floors. There was a single taper on the table that was in the room, having burned down significantly and leaving sloppy drippings on the tabletop, but it was enough light to see by. Elizaveta picked it up as she began to mount the steps, followed by Drake.

“If I leave, who will remain here at Spexhall?” she asked. “I would assume that Dannie will come with me?”

Drake nodded, watching her swaying backside as she mounted the steps in front of him. “She will,” he said. “I will leave a small garrison of men here, the remainder of the troops that I do not take with me to Scotland. There will be at least a couple of hundred men.”

“And still I must go to Thetford?”

He grunted. He could see that she was disinclined to go live with his parents. “Truly, Vee-Vee, I would feel better if you did,” he said. “You will be safer there.”

She nodded as they reached the first level, which was where their bedchamber was located. “I know I will be,” she said, pausing before she entered their chamber. “But… but this is our home, Drake. This is where I hope we will raise our children. It is the first thing other than you that has truly belonged to me, where I feel comfortable, and I would hate to leave it only to be a guest in your mother’s home, not to live in a home of my own where I am the mistress. Does that make sense?”

He paused on the landing outside of their chamber, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. “Even after what happened yesterday and today, you still feel that way about this place?”

Elizaveta nodded eagerly. “I do,” she said. “I cannot explain it, but I do. This belongs to us and I do not wish to abandon it.”

Now he was indecisive about sending her away, scratching his head as he pondered the dilemma. “I was not going to tell you this but mayhap I should so that you will understand why it is I want to send you back to Thetford,” he said. “When the de Mandevilles arrived today, they had the bodies of Lady de Witt and her husband with them. They chopped up Watcyn de Witt and slung his body parts over the walls and then Edmund de Mandeville walked around with his dead daughter’s corpse, only to leave it behind when de Wolfe chased him away. The de Mandevilles are every bit as nasty and barbaric as you said they were, love. I do not want to leave you here, without me, with an enemy like that lurking not far away. It would make me mad with worry over you while I was gone.”

By the time he was finished, Elizaveta was looking at him in horror. “They… they threw pieces of that knight over…?”

She couldn’t finish. He didn’t let her. “Over the walls, aye,” he replied. “I took the parts and put them with Lady de Witt’s body. Tomorrow we will have the priests bury them together in the church yard. Now, do you understand why I do not wish to leave you here when I go?”

Sickened, Elizaveta sighed heavily, hand to her belly and disgust on her face. But the news he gave her didn’t seem to dampen her resolve that she should remain at Spexhall too much.

“I understand,” she said. “But if you are leaving two hundred men behind, that is a good deal of protection for me. And… and I could make this place truly a home while you were away. I have already started, you know.”

He cocked his head curiously. “What have you done?”

Elizaveta pointed at the chamber door behind him, the one that led into a smaller chamber adjacent to theirs. Drake came off the wall, turning to see what she was pointing at. Since it was fairly dark in the keep, with the only light being the nearly burned-down taper in Elizaveta’s hand, he couldn’t quite see what she was referring to until she went into the chamber with the candle in her hand. Then, the darkness began to illuminate.

The chamber, which faced north over the hall and kitchens, was furnished with a rather large table and a mismatching of three chairs. There were three pewter plates on the mantel above the hearth as well as a bucket stocked with peat and wood, a pewter pitcher with four matching cups with a “D” emblazoned upon them, and a small rope bed that was comfortably covered and fashioned with three big pillows. There was even an oiled cloth over the small window.

It was evident that someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to make this a comfortable retreat and Drake looked at Elizaveta, surprised.

“What is this place?” he asked, a reflection of awe in his voice.

Elizaveta smiled. “This is your room,” she said. “I thought you could use this as your solar, where you could meet with your men and administer your empire. Your mother sent most of these things with us but some of the items were already here, like the table. While you were on the walls today fighting off the de Mandevilles, Dannie and I were inside the keep, trying to keep busy so we would not be so fearful. We fixed this chamber up for you and Devon and the smaller chamber on the floor overhead was made comfortable for me and for Dannie. It is the private ladies’ room I asked you about… and I fashioned a private room for you as well. I hope you like it.”

Dumbfounded, Drake looked around the room again. He could, indeed, see himself meeting with his men or administering his command. He was deeply touched that she would go to the trouble to make a comfortable room for him but, in truth, he wasn’t surprised. She was a deeply thoughtful woman. His surprise gave way to joy. He turned to her with a smile.

“I like it very much,” he told her. “Thank you for being so thoughtful towards my needs. I am truly touched by your efforts.”

Elizaveta smiled brightly. “It was no effort, my lord,” she said, blushing sweetly. “I was very happy to do it for you. But now do you see why I do not want to leave? I have already started to make Spexhall our own and I do not want to leave, not when we have only just arrived.”

He could see her point and he wasn’t unsympathetic. Reaching out, he pulled her into his arms and tenderly kissed her forehead, holding her tightly against his big body. God, he relished the feel of her against him, more and more every time they touched.

“I understand and sympathize,” he said quietly. “But I must think of your safety overall. We will come back to Spexhall when the madness in Scotland has subsided and we will make it as grand a place as you wish. But I cannot, in good conscience, leave you here with the de Mandevilles out for your blood. I would be terrified every minute for you. Can you please understand that?”

Elizaveta was disappointed but, in truth, she did understand. “I do,” she said, resigned. “If you want me to go to Thetford whilst you are gone, I will. But I am saddened to go.”

He gave her a squeeze. “I know,” he said. “But it will make my life much easier if you do. I will not worry over you at all so long as you are with my parents. Unless, of course, you wish to return to your mother or even your father. I should have asked you what you would prefer.”

Even as he spoke, Elizaveta was shaking her head. “I do not wish to go to my mother.”

She said it with finality, the same disconnected tone she usually used when speaking of her mother, and he eyed her curiously. “Why not?”

“Because I do not. She has no use for me.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “I find that difficult to believe,” he said. “Any mother has use for her daughter.”

Elizaveta shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes. “My mother is not as maternal as you would think,” she said, “nor is my grandmother. Living with them is rather difficult at times. However… if it is not too much trouble, I should like to send them a missive telling them that I will be living at Thetford. My mother likes to know where I am even if she does not have much use for me. I promised her I would write to her after I was settled.”

Drake saw no harm at all in that request. Even if Elizaveta didn’t like her mother, which she clearly seemed not to, at least she was still respectful to the woman, which he felt was a good representation of her character. Perhaps someday he would find out why she didn’t like her own mother, but not today. They would have all the time in the world for things like that once he returned from Scotland.

“Of course you may send her a missive,” he said. “But they are traveling home now. Would it be better to wait until they arrived?”

Elizaveta shook her head. “They were traveling south to London to take a boat back to France,” she said. “When traveling to Thetford, my grandmother was fond of an inn where we found lodgings called The Black Goose. It is outside of London in a town called Romford and I am sure they will stay there before taking the boat back to France. Mayhap we can send the missive there to be given to them.”

Drake nodded. “If they left Thetford the day we departed, then they should be very close to Romford by now,” he said. “You should write your missive tonight so that we may send it out in the morning. We do not want to chance missing them.”

Elizaveta looked at him, her stomach knotting up once more with guilt. He is speaking of a missive that will betray his own king , she thought. The man seemed so trusting and accommodating, and that magnified her guilt. He believed she was good and kind and benevolent, not a snake waiting to betray him. Tell him the truth! Something inside her suddenly screamed. Tell him the truth and pray he believes you!

But no , she told herself firmly. I cannot take the chance that he won’t!

“Then I shall do that now,” she said, pulling gently from his arms. “Will you go into our chamber and wait for me? I shan’t be long.”

Drake didn’t sense her turmoil, her inner strife. There was no way he could have known the chaos that was in her heart and had been since their wedding, a chaos that was eating her alive from the inside-out. Nay, he didn’t sense any of that. There was no way he could have. He was simply focused on his lovely bride and how she was attempting to leave him. He did not want to let her go.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

She pointed to the floor above. “To my ladies’ chamber,” she said. “It is where my writing things are.”

“Shall I come with you?”

She didn’t want him coming with her, perhaps even to see what she was writing. Nay, he could not come. Forcing a smile, she peeled his hands off of her arms.

“If you come with me, I have a feeling that there will be no missive written this night,” she said, watching him laugh. “I promise I will only be a few moments.”

Drake reluctantly let her go, watching her as she moved for the spiral stairs. “Then I shall go into our chamber and wait for you like an impatient bridegroom,” he said, backing up towards their chamber door. “Is there water in our chamber? I should probably clean the stink off of my body before my wife joins me in bed and then we… well, I can hope for such things, can I not?”

She knew what he meant, blushing at the suggestion and excited by it at the same time. This was all so new to her, this flirtatious rapport she and Drake had developed, and she enjoyed it very much but she wasn’t very practiced in her responses. The suggestion of sexual contact left her giddy and uncertain.

“There is water in there, but it is cold,” she said, trying to be coy. “And you may hope for such things all you wish. Such things have a way of coming true.”

He stood in the doorway, watching as she disappeared up the stairs. “Will it come true tonight?”

“If you do not stink too badly, it should.”

Her voice echoed from the upper floor and he grinned, disappearing into their chamber but leaving the door open should she call for him. He was, indeed, an eager bridegroom, looking forward to sampling his wife and knowing it would be the last time for many months. He prayed it would not be the last time ever, for there was something in his heart now that had never been there before. The reluctant groom, the man who did not want to tie himself down to one woman, was now coming to understand what his father had been trying to tell him about marriage.

A wife may be the greatest experience yet.

Later that night, after making love to Elizaveta twice before she felt into a deep sleep, Drake was starting to think his father had been right.