Chapter Nineteen
Whitchurch
By Caius’ best guess, they had been asleep for nearly twelve hours.
Shocked, he opened his eyes to a dark room and a hearth that was barely flickering.
He could hear some bustle on the street outside which told him it was close to dawn.
The farmers were up, pulling their wagons into town to sell their wares when the market opened, and Caius rubbed his eyes orienting himself, before looking to the woman burrowed in his arms.
Emelisse was sleeping like the dead, pressed up against him as if she had been sleeping that way her entire life. His arms were around her, as if he, too, had been sleeping that way his entire life.
It was the most natural thing he’d ever experienced.
His gaze drifted over her in the early morning light, and he could see fine details of her features as she slept peacefully. He found himself looking at the shape of her face, the adorable pert curve of her nose, and the way her lush lips were delightfully parted in sleep.
Everything about her was delightful.
And the reality was that she was now Lady d’Avignon.
My wife.
Even as he said it to himself, he could hardly believe it.
The events from the day before seemed like a blur but, in the same breath, he could see it all very clearly.
He clearly remembered arriving at Hawkstone and discovering that Caspian had died on the same day his father had.
He remembered clearly that Emelisse was determined to take her brother’s place and maintain the integrity of the keep until death – hers.
That had distressed him. Women weren’t meant to die a prolonged death like that.
Had he proposed marriage simply to get her out of that keep?
The truth was that he hadn’t, but the missive from Lady de Wrenville had certainly given him the excuse to get Emelisse out of the keep by proposing marriage.
But he didn’t regret it.
He had slept better last night than he had ever slept in his entire life, wrapped up snugly with Emelisse as if it were always meant to be.
It was strange how he couldn’t seem to remember his life before he met her.
Oh, there were things he did remember. He had always had a very sharp memory, so he wasn’t literal in the sense that he couldn’t remember his life before her.
It was simply that he couldn’t remember how he had ever breathed without her by his side.
A smile came to his lips as he imagined Maxton’s face when he told him all of this. Strangely enough, he wanted to speak of it. He was eager to, happy to. Caius had always scoffed at Maxton and the other close friends who had married for love, and now he seemed to be in that same brotherhood.
… love?
He found himself looking at Emelisse again, wondering if love was what he felt for her. He had only known the woman for just a couple of days, so surely, it was impossible for him to have fallen in love with her.
… wasn’t it?
He simply did not know. All he knew was that he felt warm and happy and fulfilled but, in the same breath, he felt confusion and chagrin and possibly embarrassment.
He’d spent so much time laughing at those who succumbed to the weakness of love that he was going to have to swallow his pride and admit that he had probably succumbed, too.
But it was pride that he would gladly swallow.
Lost to his revelry, he had to force himself to focus on the moment at hand.
A new day was dawning and they needed to get moving.
Very carefully, he disengaged himself from Emelisse and climbed out of the bed.
He had no idea what had happened to William, but assumed the young man was somewhere down in the common room, waiting for him.
He felt rather bad that he had left the squire to fend for himself and then he looked over at Emelisse.
He didn’t feel too bad.
It was worth it.
He went on the hunt for his clothing, noticing that he had tossed it off in all directions when passion had struck.
He found his breaches by the bed, his boots somewhere near the end of the bed, and his tunic against the wall.
Over on a small table was a basin of freezing cold water that had been brought up the night before specifically for Emelisse to wash in, but she had never used it.
It smelled like roses, but Caius splashed it all over his face and hair, washing his hands in it, before he found his breeches and pulled them on.
The tunic and the boots went on, as well.
He thought he should go on the hunt for a particular squire, just to make sure he survived the night on his own, and departed the room in silence.
He made his way down the rickety stairs into a common room that was still packed with people.
Some were stirring in this early hour and the smell of baking bread was heavy in the air as the serving wenches began to stoke both hearths, one at each end of the room.
Caius looked around the room, hunting for William’s dark head. He had no sooner stepped down into the sunken portion of the common room that had no tables when someone came up behind him and touched him on the arm.
“My lord?”
He whirled around to see William standing there. The lad appeared sleepy, and a bit disheveled, but he was in one piece. Caius looked him over.
“Do you have a report for me?” he asked.
William nodded. “A report and a ring,” he said, holding up a small, gold band. “I got a merchant out of bed for this and gave him some of the coins you gave me to pay the livery. It should fit your wife.”
Caius grinned as he looked at the ring. It was a delicate dark yellow band, perfect for a lady’s finger. “Excellent,” he said. “Well done. Now, give me your report.”
William did. “I have been out most of the night and I have not seen any Winterhold men,” he said. “Everything is as it should be.”
Caius lifted his eyebrows. “You have been out all night?”
William nodded. “Aye, my lord,” he said. “Someone had to patrol while you were with your lady wife.”
That was a very adult and responsible attitude. Caius put a hand on William’s shoulder. “Good, young man,” he said. “Have you slept at all?”
William looked sheepish. “Just a little,” he said. “I kept waking up, thinking I heard men coming.”
A smile tugged at Caius’ lips. “A good knight always sleeps with one eye open,” he said. “Get used to it. That is the way you will sleep for the rest of your life.”
“Is that how you sleep, my lord?”
Caius immediately thought of the very peaceful, very solid sleep he’d had last night, but he nodded his head, anyway.
“Always,” he said. Then, he looked around, spying a serving wench. “Go tell that woman we want enough food to feed three people. Bring it up to my chamber. It is up those stairs, the last door on the left.”
William nodded, yawned, and then stifled it. Caius chuckled at the young man as he headed back up to his chamber.
He was coming to like William de Wolfe.
As he approached his room, he could hear hissing and hooting coming from his chamber.
At least, he thought it might have been his chamber.
He might have even heard yelping. Concerned, he threw open the door to find Emelisse standing in front of the rose water basin, washing her face and making noise because it was so cold.
Relieved, Caius grinned as he shut the door.
“I can send for warmed water, you know,” he said. “You do not have to wash in freezing water.”
She had slimy soap on her face, courtesy of a small bar of rose-smelling soap given to her by Lady de Wrenville. Splashing clean, she opened her eyes to see Caius standing there, smiling at her. She laughed softly as she reached for the drying cloth next to the basin.
“Please do not bother,” she said. “I will dress quickly and we shall be on our way.”
He waved at her. “Do not rush,” he said. “I have ordered food to break our fast, but William will be joining us, so I would dress in something other than a shift if I were you.”
She looked down at herself in the thin shift she’d picked up off the floor, simply to cover herself. “I will,” she said, quickly using the soap and water to wash her arms and neck. “Did you sleep well?”
Caius came up behind her, wrapping his big arms around her and pulling her close. He went in to kiss her neck but got a mouthful of froth instead. He sputtered it out as she laughed, holding up the drying cloth so he could wipe it off his lips.
“Better than I have slept nearly my entire life,” he said, pressing his face into the back of her head instead. “And you?”
Emelisse was trying to wash up but his heat, his embrace, had her collapsing against him instead.
“I do not know when I have ever slept so well,” she said, turning to kiss him on the lips, sweet and warm and lingering.
“Two days ago, I was in a battle for my life. This morning, I am happier than I have ever been and I do not quite know how to feel about it.”
He kissed her on the mouth again, feeling that familiar lightning, but given that she needed to dress, he refrained from exploring it further. Instead, he kissed her nose and released her so she could finish.
“What do you mean?” he said, leaning against the wall next to the basin so he could look her in the eyes. “What are you thinking, sweetheart?”
Her motions slowed as she looked at him.
“My father is dead,” she said. “My brother is dead. I hurt for them so badly that I can hardly stand it, yet I have married a man who, in two days, has made me feel like the most protected and respected woman in England. I look at you and everything about me turns warm and trembling. Last night was supposed to be a somber introduction into my life as a married woman and it was glorious. I am not ashamed to say that I liked it. So much within me is conflicted, Cai. I simply do not know what to feel, about anything.”