Chapter 22 #3
"Shhhhhh," he said, his lips fluttering against hers. "Just remember to be very quiet. You don't want your overlord to ride to your rescue at this point, do you?"
Then, returning to the pleasuring of her breasts, he used his thigh to spread her legs wider and stroked more firmly so she had to clutch on to him for fear of falling. Which was ridiculous, when they were already on a solid surface.
Then, at the peak of a stroke, he sucked hard on her breast and slid his finger into her so that a jolt shot right between the two points.
"Ah!" She managed to swallow it, but only just.
"Bite me if you want," he whispered circling gently again.
So Aline filled her mouth with the cloth and muscle of his shoulder, wondering if perhaps she should scream for her overlord after all.
Raoul's big hand summoned the fire that would destroy her, and like an encircling army, his thigh would not let her evade the attack. She almost felt as if she were fighting for her life as she stiffened, hands gripping him, teeth clenched in him.
But she wasn't fighting to escape, even though he was destroying her. The inarticulate sounds she was choking against his shoulder were not cries for help.
Then the tinder caught, the wood burned bright, and her walls shuddered, cracked, and fell.
Through them she saw light.
No. Light was too weak a term.
Through the broken walls, she saw heaven. A momentary glimpse of the infinite wonder of heaven.
His hand. His slow and gentle hand held her suspended there until she thought she'd faint, but then, part sorrowing, part relieved, she felt the wonder fade, felt herself float back down to the wooden landing like a tuft of thistledown on a very still day.
He moved to hold her in his arms, smoothing down her shift, then continuing to stroke her gently in a way that made her never want to part from him at all.
"I don't think I screamed," she said at last.
"Can you be sure?"
"No one's raised the alarm."
"True. I'm not sure I'm not scarred for life, though." But she could hear a smile in it.
She touched a damp patch on his tunic where her mouth had been. Underneath, she felt the indentations left by the teeth. "Oh, dear."
"A warrior expects a little pain in so conclusively conquering a castle. Are you now my vassal?"
She didn't answer that, but instead said, "Perhaps, in time, I can learn to undermine your walls."
He laughed softly, laying his head against hers. "I'm already rubble, love, but I look forward to your attempts at further destruction."
She stroked him, and that was sweet, to be able to cherish him as he had cherished her. "I can see now why you were reluctant to promise to do without that pleasure for a whole year." There was a question in it, and she blushed to hear it. She was begging for more.
He looked up at her. "I won't deprive you. Once we are married."
"Once... !" She'd almost spoken at normal volume and returned to murmuring. "You mean, you won't...? Until we are married?"
"Self-restraint, remember?" he teased.
"Oh, you! But it is good for the soul."
"Our souls are going to be very healthy, then." He gathered her into his arms and she cuddled there, giving thanks for finding this one man in the huge world. It was terrifying to think that they might never have met, and frightening to part with him, even for the few remaining hours of the night.
Perhaps he felt the same, for in the end it was she who pulled away, stood, and led them both back to her sleeping chamber.
"Good night," she whispered, wanting to say so much more but not quite comfortable with the words as yet.
He, of course, was more at ease. "Sleep well, beloved. And when you dream, dream of me."
***
In the next days, Aline decided that a strong, resolute man could be a pain in the neck.
Or in other places. Tease him as she might, Raoul would give her no more than a sisterly kiss, and generally, he avoided her.
Aline went through the days in heated frustration, though that could be attributed to the fact that southern England was baking under a heat wave.
For distraction, she threw herself into work. When she wasn't preparing for the journey home, she was pestering Hugo and his friends for any and all knowledge of Guyenne, its people, its agriculture, and its trade.
From being fearful of the adventure, she now couldn't wait to marry and sail to a new land with her husband. The marrying was the important part, however. Why did they have to go north to be wed?
When her father rode into Hugo's yard, therefore, she threw herself into his arms with ecstatic delight.
"Hey, hey!" said Lord Hubert, staring at her. "What's up, chicken?"
Aline was suddenly tongue-tied, and it was Galeran who said, "She's hot to marry Raoul de Jouray."
Aline went brick-red and wailed, "Galeran!"
But Galeran just grinned. "It's the truth. You two are probably responsible for this heat wave. It'll be a relief to the south of England to get you calmed down a bit."
Lord Hubert scratched his head as he was led into the house. "I thought you wanted the church, chicken."
"I've changed my mind, Father. He has land," she said quickly, getting to the important part.
"Has he? Well, that's something."
It was soon clear that Lord Hubert had decided he, too, should come to pay homage to Henry. He listened carefully to his daughter's adventures—a somewhat edited account—then took Raoul aside for a long talk.
Aline was left suddenly fearful. She'd never considered that her father might refuse the match, but now she wasn't sure. He clearly felt all the qualms she first had, and he wasn't at all swayed by charming smiles and broad shoulders.
Raoul came out of the room and just raised his brows. "He wants to speak to you, Aline."
"What does he say?"
"Go and talk to him."
Raoul was being infuriatingly uncommunicative, even by expression. Aline went in, rubbing damp palms on her skirts. "Yes, Father?"
Lord Hubert just looked at her. "Do you want him?"
"Oh, yes."
"Do you trust him?"
"Yes."
He shrugged. "So do I, though he might just be a fine trickster. You've always had a head on your shoulders, though, lass, so if you're sure, I'll not stand in your way."
Aline ran into her father's arms. "Thank you! He is honorable, and I do love him."
Her father patted her shoulder. "And you're like your mother, God rest her. Sensible and warmhearted at the same time. He wants to marry you here and now, chicken, but I'll make him wait if you'd rather."
Aline blushed. "Oh, no."
He chuckled. "Aye. I judge he'll serve you well in bed at least. We can get the contract drawn up today, since I gather you've already settled most of it, and you can be married tomorrow if you want."
"Tomorrow?"
"Don't say you're going to change your mind now!"
Aline leaped to her feet, "No! Oh, no. But what should I wear?" She ran out to find Jehanne.
* * *
She wore her best red tunic and a girdle set with a ruby. Raoul had given it to her that morning, along with a chance to escape.
"It's not so long since we met, love, and not so long since you had doubts. I will wait if you want."
She looked down at the lovely gift. "I don't want. I know my mind. If you have doubts..."
He raised her chin. "None at all." And she saw in his eyes the same devotion and hot need that burned in her.
"Then we'll have no more nonsense, please."
They walked to nearby St. Stephen's Church to take their vows at the door, accompanied by as many friends and connections as possible, future witnesses to their words.
They were considerably startled however, when a trumpet blast cleared the way for the king, crown on head surrounded by nobles and guards.
With a mighty crowd now gathered around them, Henry declared, "I heard rumor of this event and thought I'd best witness it myself. We don't want more uncertain marriages in the family, do we, Sir William?"
Hugo and Mary looked as if they would faint with excitement, and the crowd was like a swarm of buzzing bees, but Aline could think only that the king's presence might slow things down.
The ceremony went off smoothly, however, and soon they were returning to Corser Street in a much more magnificent procession.
"Is the king coming back?" she whispered to Raoul.
"Looks like it." He gave her a rueful smile. "Many hours before we can be alone, love. Remember, self-denial is good for the soul."
"My soul's so healthy, it glows!"
"Ah, is that the light in your eyes?"
And she laughed up into his shining eyes, deciding it didn't matter if the king was here. She was married to Raoul. She could wait.
Showing sensitivity, Henry didn't stay at Hugo's house longer than it took to toast the couple, speak to the most important people, and place a large order for wine.
Then he rode away, leaving family and friends to relax and celebrate.
Hugo, however, was still in a daze and planning to rename the gate into his yard King's Gate.
They still couldn't, with decency, rush off to be alone.
Aline tried to talk coherently as she sipped wine and nibbled cakes, but all she really wanted to do was eat her husband.
He, however, didn't seem impatient at all.
He even found an instrument and entertained.
He did sing the song about almond blossoms, however, smiling into her eyes.
Most of the women were dabbing their eyes when he'd finished.
When the vesper bells sounded evening, Aline could at last hurry to the corner room that would be theirs alone tonight. Laughing women followed to help her prepare. Their jokes were as suggestive as the men's, and Aline was pink with blushes when she was ready, gowned only in her hair.
Raoul came in then, clad only in a cloak, which he discarded.
Certainly his short hair provided no cover, but then, who'd want to obscure his magnificent physique?