Chapter Three
Gillian sat beside her husband, still not sure precisely how she had gotten back to the great hall. She remembered nearly nothing of standing outside the chapel and reciting her vows, and even less of the long mass that followed. All she knew was she had been wed to the king's favorite earl.
The presence of the powerful man beside her took all of her notice.
She'd studied him closely, looking for clues to the man he was, but his stony expression revealed nothing.
A thousand different emotions ran through her, warning her of his effect on her.
Still, nothing solidified enough to dwell on.
The shivery excitement lurking in her belly taunted her, as did the frisson of fear that swept along her spine whenever he looked at her.
She knew what was to come this eve, and the mixture of anticipation and dread left her with uneasy feelings in her heart.
Servants entered with the first course, trays piled high with mutton, beef and chicken, rabbit and duck, all prepared in rich creamy sauces and steaming from the ovens.
Pitchers of spiced wine and ale were served for another of the many toasts sure to follow.
Later, even more dishes would be brought out to the assemblage when the feasting continued through the day and into the night.
She wanted to stand up and have the room cleared. Her father had been buried only four days before. To celebrate now seemed wrong. And yet, no one appeared to care.
She glanced down the row of tables. Simon sat with the other men, instead of near her.
She missed him. He looked up and caught her eye.
The hint of sadness in his gaze told her he possessed similar resentful thoughts toward those around them.
She lifted her goblet and took a long drink of wine, hoping 'twould steady the unbalanced sensation.
"Are you anticipating the coming night already?"
Gillian's head snapped up to find her husband gazing at her with amusement. The knowing curve of his smile caused beads of sweat to break out along her brow. She swallowed.
He leaned close, his mouth beside her ear. His lips grazed her ever so lightly as she spoke, his warm breath making her shiver.
"Fear not, my bride; I am as eager as you. Soon enough we shall be alone."
His hand covered hers, sending heat coiling up her arm and throughout her body. She looked away, taking a deep breath to steady her thumping heart. Her hand shook more than ever as she took another long drink of the cool, sweet wine.
***
Royce watched his bride closely. He smelled her fear and her excitement.
The musk of arousal hovered over her, despite the wariness ever present in her eyes.
The contradiction intensified his hunger.
He didn't think he could wait much longer, but knew he had to endure at least two courses of the meal Lyndon's cooks had prepared.
He also wanted to find some way out of the traditional bedding ceremony. He would allow Gillian only her maid. How would he keep the other women out? He leaned toward Burke.
"I want no bedding ceremony. Spread the word to the men. I'll inform the women that because of the bride's recent loss, she finds the idea unbearable. They'll have more sympathy if I blame her for the reason."
"Do you fear she isn't pure?"
Royce shrugged. He didn't like thinking about it, but he couldn't forget the sight of Gillian in the arms of her guard. He glanced at her and followed her gaze. Anger burned his throat but he looked away from the stare she shared with Simon.
"Mayhap. I would not have that be known to all. I'm prepared should that be the case." Burke grinned. "I suspect Lyndon's daughter holds many secrets."
"And I intend to get every one out of her. Take care of what I asked."
He leaned back toward Gillian. She still held a stare with Simon. He reached for the goblet in her hand. She faced him, those alluring eyes wide with confusion.
"Have more wine. Then after this next course, seek out your maid."
"But I thought –"
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "There will be no bedding ceremony. But I will give you until the vespers bells ring to prepare yourself. Be ready for me when I arrive."
"Aye. My lord, how will you keep the others from...?"
He held back a chuckle at the flush creeping into her cheeks. His cock hardened anew and he wondered if he'd survive this next course.
"'Tis being handled. Now eat."
She picked up her spoon and lowered it to the trencher, scooping stewed violets with a dainty and elegant motion. They ate in silence, and somehow the chaos of the room faded away. He supposed she would have liked some romantic gesture, but he found himself too distracted by studying her.
He slipped his hand under the table. She appeared not to notice the movement.
He let his fingers brush against the ornate emerald gown.
Her shoulders stiffened, but she didn't lift her head.
Instead, she selected another piece of goose and bit into it.
He admired her manners, her fingers and hand placed just so to conceal her mouth as she ate. She would do well at court.
Impatience left him agitated while he waited for her to finish her meal. She'd barely leaned away from the trencher when he laid his hand firmly on her leg. At the contact, she froze completely. Several seconds passed before she met his gaze.
"Go now, seek your maid."
The pink in her cheeks faded until she appeared almost ashen. He squeezed her leg. She flinched.
"Now." He gave another squeeze then released her.
"Aye, my lord." Her voice shook, near as much as her hands. Still, she rose steadily and made her way toward the stair.
***
Gillian tried to slip unnoticed through the hall, but knew she didn't succeed.
The eyes of nearly everyone rested on her, making her feel as though she walked across the room naked.
She silently thanked her husband for banning the bedding ceremony.
She didn't think she'd survive that without being sick.
She caught the eye of one of the maids. The girl appeared envious. Gillian supposed her husband would be considered handsome by most. God's bones, she considered him handsome. More than he should be.
Edith awaited her in the chamber. She hesitated, pleased to see the bedding replaced with the earl's colors.
The table and chairs near the hearth had been brought in from the solar, as per her instructions.
The room no longer held any sign of her father.
She lowered her head, sending his soul a prayer of peace.
"Edith, I... must prepare."
Her maid immediately set to helping Gillian out of her gown and undergarments. When nothing but the chemise remained, Gillian halted the maid.
"That is enough. Can you please undo the ribbons in my hair?"
"Yes, my lady. You are a countess now! Married to an earl. And the king will be here within a sennight. 'Tis the most exciting thing to happen to Lyndon in many years."
Despite her worries over everything Edith gushed over, the maid's excitement was infectious. Mayhap the past weeks of dark days were truly over.
The door flung open. The earl filled the frame.
His dark tunic outlined the breadth of his shoulders and her gaze moved over him, her heart once again taking the same uneven rhythm his presence always sparked.
He stood there several moments before stepping into the room.
He strode around the chamber, perusing the furnishings and the bed.
He turned to her and gave an approving nod.
"I am pleased with the room."
"Thank you."
Royce's gaze settled on Edith.
"Leave us."
The maid lowered her head and hurried from the room, closing the door behind her. Royce strode over and slid the bar into place.
The hint of uneasiness bloomed into fear. She was alone with this man, her husband, and no one could save her.
He strode to the table and the pitcher of wine.
He picked up one goblet and filled it. All the while, she studied him, noting the way his hair fell around his shoulders, the way his fingers gripped the pitcher.
Her gaze moved lower, the sight of his powerful legs encased in hose hinting at his stamina.
The rush of lust that came over her left her breathless. She wanted to look away, but didn't. He turned and held out the goblet.
She shook her head. "Nay, I..."
He stepped closer, forcing her to tilt her head back. He did it apurpose, she knew, to try and intimidate her. She held her ground.
"Drink the wine, 'twill help settle your nerves."
She scowled at him. He liked to give orders. She would obey this night, if only because she must, but if he thought she would submit to his command beyond that, he would have a long wait.
She took the goblet from him and gulped down some of the fruity liquid. He took the cup from her, lest she finish it all.
"Slowly. I don't want you sotted."
He turned the cup and deliberately placed his mouth where hers had been.
When he pulled the goblet away, he licked his lips.
Her breasts felt heavy and tight, nipples peaking hard.
Between her legs, her sex slickened and swelled.
No matter what she felt about him, her body clearly appreciated what he hinted he would soon do to her.
He handed the goblet back to her, turning it once more so she would drink again from the same spot. She hesitated a moment, then took another drink. She handed the cup back to him. "Come."
He took her hand and led her to the stand beside the bed. He ran his fingers along the top of her chemise.
"Why do you still wear this?"
"I... there was a draft."
'Twas the truth, though not her real reason.
"I expected my wife to be waiting for me naked in that bed."
She held back the angry words she longed to spit at him. The risk of being beaten, especially on her wedding night, truly worried her.
"You did not say anything other than for me to be ready for you. And I am."