Chapter Two #4
He was so close that she could feel the heat from his body.
She could smell him, too. The combination made her head swim.
And the way he was staring at her made her heart thump strangely.
She tore her gaze away, not knowing what else to do, wondering why she was feeling so strange.
Her eyes inadvertently fell on his legs and she noted the big, dirty gash along his left thigh.
It had bled a good deal and now the leg was covered with a layer of coagulated muck.
“You are injured,” she bent over to gain a better look at the wound. “That should be tended immediately.”
He looked down at his leg. He had very nearly forgotten about it. “I shall have it seen to.” It was an automatic response. Then it occurred to him that she should want to tend it; as his betrothed, it was expected of her. “But if you should like to attend me, my lady, I would be honored.”
She looked up at him and for the first time, he saw great uncertainty in her eyes. He’d seen nothing but complete confidence from this woman since the moment they met; therefore, the doubt was puzzling. “I fear… I fear that I would not do a very good job, my lord,” she said.
“Nonsense,” he stepped back and began unlatching his plate armor. “You will make a fine task of it.”
She moved away from him as his armor fell off, half-frightened, half-entranced.
She had only ever seen him with his armor on and even as he removed it, it made little difference in his overall size.
He had massive arms, muscular and tremendously powerful.
His chest was enormous, his waist slender, and his legs were the size of tree trunks.
Stripped down to his stained undershirt and heavy linen breeches, there was nothing about the man that did not reek of absolute strength and power. He was magnificent.
It took her a minute to realize she had stopped breathing. When she resumed, it came out as an odd gasp. He looked over at her, standing several feet away.
“Where would you like me to sit?” he asked.
She responded like a dolt. “Sit?”
He lifted his eyebrows at her. “Aye, sit. Or do you want me to stand while you sew this gash?”
She suddenly grimaced, an expression between agony and fear. “I… I have a confession, my lord. I pray that you do not think badly of me because of it.”
“Think badly of you? I doubt it. But what is it?”
She shoved her finger between her teeth as if that would help bring forth the words.
“Oooo…!” then she shook her hands with frustration.
“I cannot sew your gash. I have never been able to do such things. My uncle said I was absolutely useless and he is correct. Such things make me ill. I know it is foolish, but I cannot help it. I am truly sorry, my lord. You deserve a wife that will be brave and tend your wounds. But I… I cannot do it.”
He stood there a moment, staring at her. The room filled with a great shock of silence. Then, he erupted in snorts and giggles the likes of which Alixandrea had never heard from a man. He put his hands over his face briefly and when he pulled them away, his eyes were shining brightly at her.
“Thank God,” he muttered. “I was feeling so completely inferior to you because I was convinced that you were utterly perfect. From the top of your glorious head to the bottom of your feet, you are an angel incarnate. But now I see that you have one flaw, just one, and it pleases me like no other.”
She could not decide if she was flattered or insulted. She settled on flattery and smiled along with him. “I can do anything else for you, my lord, and surely will, but don’t ever ask me to sew a wound. I would rather die a thousand painful deaths.”
He was still snorting as he walked over to her and placed his trencher-sized hands on her head, cupping it. He gazed down into her lovely face, allowing himself to freely drink in the sight of her.
“Have no fear, my lady,” he said in a voice that sent chills racing up her spine. “I do not think any less of you. In fact, I think more.”
They were grinning at each other. Then, the grins slowly faded and something stronger took hold. Alixandrea’s head began to swim again as his blue eyes bore into her. There was something in the way they flickered.
Somehow, he seemed to be drifting closer.
She could feel his breath on her face. Her body began to tingle painfully, anticipation of something she could not yet feel or taste or see.
But just as he loomed in close, he suddenly pulled back.
His thumbs stroked her cheeks, once, and he dropped his hands.
“Caroline will sew the wound,” he was walking away from her, leaving her weak and breathless. “In fact, she had probably heard all of this conversation.”
He put his hand on the latch and yanked the door open. Caroline almost fell into the room. Her embarrassed gaze moved between Matthew and Alixandrea, having been caught eavesdropping.
“All is well, my lady?” she asked Alixandrea timidly.
Matthew lifted a blond eyebrow at her. “You know that it is.” He gestured to his leg. “I require your assistance in tending this wound.”
Caroline did not even look at it; she was too busy trying to recover her composure. “I shall go and get my things. Will you wait here?”
“Alone, with the lady? How improper.”
Alixandrea hid a smile as Caroline blushed furiously.
“Enough of your torment, Matthew Wellesbourne,” she snapped weakly. “Another spiteful word and you can sew your wound yourself.”
His blue eyes twinkled. “How do you know that my lady will not tend it for me?”
Caroline opened her mouth, knowing the answer, but just as quickly knowing that she should not reveal it. To do so would be to admit she was listening to their conversation. In a huff, she quit the room. Matthew, smiling faintly, looked at Alixandrea and shrugged.
“I suppose I shall wait here, if you do not object.”
“I do not.”
He watched her turn away from him and move closer to the fire. For the first time, he could get a good look at her figure without the layers of clothing and cloaks to hide it. He admitted that he had been curious to inspect her with all of the interest of one inspecting a new prize mare.
But with his first inspection, he got more than he bargained for; the firelight passed through the fine linen of the robe and silhouetted her body against the sheer fabric.
Matthew knew he shouldn’t look, as a gallant man would not have.
But as a man who had just acquired something he had never imagined he would have, he could not stop himself; her legs were lovely and shapely, her torso slender.
She put her arms up to comb her hair and in doing so turned slightly, and he could see the outline of her breasts and buttocks against the backdrop of flame.
He’d never seen anything so luscious or pleasing.
To think that he would soon be claiming this woman bodily as his wife brought heat to his loins and he forced himself to turn away, fearful of his physical reaction to her.
It was the most sweeping, instantaneous reaction he’d ever had in his entire life and the uncontrollability of it startled him.
“Are you going to have my servants bring up my possessions, my lord?” she interrupted his thoughts.
He was too embroiled in visions of her ripe body. “What’s that?” he caught himself. “Aye, of course. Right away.”
He left the chamber, perhaps too quickly, and descended the narrow stairs to the third floor.
He did not go any further but shouted down the stairwell to the soldier on the floor below.
When the soldier went to do his bidding, he remounted the steps, more slowly this time, and took a deep breath to steady himself.
He’d never known himself to be nervous, but he realized that was exactly what he was feeling.
Something about the lady in the chamber upstairs unnerved him as no one else ever had.
He had never wanted her, much less wanted to feel anything for her, but feel he did.
It was something new and strange and unsettling, and he could not decide if he liked it or not.
Mounting the top step, he shook himself imperceptibly; get hold of yourself, man. She was a woman, like any other. Perhaps he was feeling this way because it had been so long since he’d found a woman attractive. It had easily been years and she was affecting him with her mere presence.
Matthew had faced battles since he had been seventeen years of age as a full-fledged knight; nothing frightened him and certainly nothing unnerved him.
But the introduction of this lovely lady had quickly circumvented the personal defenses he had practiced all his life.
He had no defense against a beautiful woman.
And he wasn’t sure how to aptly deal with it.
He re-entered the room, mildly fortified, only to find her still standing in front of the fire with her delectable body delineated through the semi-transparent fabric.
He thought it best to wait at the top of the stairs.