Chapter 9 #3
She did not even mind that the garden she had helped to create would feed the Norman soldiers, for Sir Geoffroi would be one of them.
Seeing the plants rise from the rich soil gave her pride.
The garden was not unlike the one her mother had planted at their manor in Lincolnshire, the largest of her father’s manors.
She had lost her mother when she was younger than Finna but she had fond memories of the woman with the flaxen hair like hers.
Her mother had taught her to read as well as embroider.
She wished she could have her mother with her now, but it was a comfort to have a friendship with Helise Malet, who was the same age Emma’s mother would have been had she lived.
To Emma, their time in the peaceful garden was like an island of calm in a roiling sea.
It could not last, but she was loath to question the good that providence offered her, however short such a time might be.
She would enjoy the hours she and Sir Geoffroi spent together, for she knew they would end all too soon.
As they made to leave, her gaze caught Sir Geoffroi’s and for a moment neither looked away until Helise’s chatter distracted her.
“We can harvest the plants together,” the older woman offered.
“That would be nice,” Emma agreed.
When they returned to the tower castle on the other side of the river, Sir Geoffroi insisted on seeing her home. She was grateful their goodbye would be delayed.
Even avoiding the well-traveled streets as they did, it was a bit of a procession, her traveling with him and his knights and Magnus loping beside them.
People stopped to watch them pass. Some would have recognized Magnus and questioned her being in the company of the knights.
She was glad when they arrived at her house without incident.
“Will you and Sir Alain come in?” she asked.
“Aye, gladly,” he replied.
“I will wait for you here with the men,” announced Sir Alain.
When Sir Geoffroi nodded his acceptance, Emma addressed the one called the Bear. “Then I will send ale for you and the other knights.”
Once inside, Magnus flopped on his pallet and Emma asked Artur to take the waiting knights ale to refresh them. She hung her cloak on a peg and went into the kitchen, as the servant poured ale and disappeared with a tray of tankards for the knights.
Sigga was still at the market, leaving Emma alone with Sir Geoffroi. She fetched him a berry tart and a tankard of ale. “I saved one for you when I set aside two for the twins. They will have theirs with supper. Best to eat yours now or Magnus will be begging for it.”
“Where are the children?”
“Inga was going to take them to a friend’s for play while I was at the castle.”
She handed him the tart on her palm, the berry juice running onto her fingers.
His eyes fastened on the juicy treat bulging with cooked berries. “You have my thanks, my lady.” Swiftly, he engulfed the sweet and washed it down with a swig of ale.
She laughed, seeing the berry juice dripping from his chin. “You are a sight, Sir Geoffroi.” Reaching for a cloth, she was about to wipe the juice from his face when he reached for her hand.
Taking the cloth, he set it on the worktable and brought her fingertips to his mouth, licking the juice.
The sensation of his warm tongue stroking her fingertips stirred a heat deep within her.
Involuntarily her lips parted and she took in a quick breath, shivers making her nipples harden beneath her tunic as his tongue moved over her fingers.
His blue gaze fixed on her. “You taste better than the tart and I would have more.”
She regarded his rugged face, browned by his many days in the summer sun.
It made his blue eyes all the more striking.
His lips curved in a sensual smile, a spot of berry juice still on his mouth.
She had the sudden urge to lick it off but before she could do it, his tongue reached out and lapped up the juice.
He pulled her into his chest and gazed intently into her eyes. “Emma, I have longed to kiss you.”
“Then mayhap you should,” she whispered, wanting nothing more.
He bent his head to take her mouth and she was lost in his kiss, the warmth of his chest pressed against her, the taste of the berries on his tongue sliding over hers, seducing her to his will.
But it was her will, too. She had wanted this from the first time she had seen him that morning, mayhap for days before that.
She tilted her head to allow him to kiss her more deeply, entwining her fingers in the hair at the base of his neck.
Their breaths quickened, her heart raced and a pool of warm liquid settled in her woman’s center.
Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Be my lady, Emma. Let me have you and I promise I will never have another.”
She was not shocked at his request, but delighted in his words. Their gazes met and for a time neither spoke. Still, there was much in their eyes. For three years she had been without a man and had wanted none, but she wanted him.
Without a word, she took his rough hand in hers and led him out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her chamber, thinking all the while it was meant to be. Once inside, she closed the door and turned to him. “Your companions wait, so we do not have much time.”
“Let them wait,” he said, drawing her close to kiss her neck, her face, then her lips. “I want you, Emma.”
If they’d had more time, mayhap they would have proceeded more slowly but she did not think so.
The passion between them was too intense and had been building for too long.
Instead, they tore at each other’s clothing, frantic to be free of it, but all they managed before they fell to the bed was to remove his hauberk and her woolen gown.
Her headcloth had quickly fallen to the floor on its own.
“Emma, Emma,” he murmured as his hands reached for her linen shift, lifting it to her hips and running his palm down her quivering thigh.
Then he kissed her deeply, moving his hand to her breast. It felt blessedly right.
The heavy weight of his sex pressed against her. She tugged at his braies. He helped her slide them down leaving their bodies below the waist touching, hot and ready, flamed by the heat coursing between them.
“Geoffroi, hurry.”
He rose up, positioned his sex at her welcoming folds and plunged in more deeply than she could have imagined. “My love,” he murmured as he stilled.
She raised her hips to take all of him, welcoming his hot flesh into her tight sheath.
It had been years since she had known a man, still she could not remember ever experiencing such fullness, such wonder.
There was no ghost to greet her, no image of anyone but Geoffroi, his blue gaze intense when she opened her eyes to see him staring at her.
“Is it well with you, my love?” he asked, concern in the depths of his eyes.
“Yea, but ’twill be better when you begin to move.”
“I shall move,” he said, thrusting into her. “Oh yes, Emma, I shall move.”
Then began a most wondrous coupling, a loving she would never forget. Their bodies fit perfectly to each other, his sex gliding slowly in and out of her welcoming flesh.
She raised her hips to move with him, as together they strove to reach the peak of their passion. When their release came, it was a joining that seemed so right, so destined, she felt no guilt. He had wanted her to give herself to him and she had.
There was no turning back now.