Chapter Eighteen
The festive sounds of the musicians did little to ease Gillian's sour mood.
Exhaustion, brought on by the journey, followed by her husband's intense and passionate lovemaking, served to make her long for her bed.
Instead, she sat amidst the king's welcome feast, while Royce all but ignored her while discussing strategy with Edward.
She glanced around the room. Wine and ale flowed freely, with many of the guests sotted.
Was this what court life was like? She'd seen many glances cast her way, as curious people wanted to see the Panther's bride.
She wished she'd been seated at one of the lower tables; she might not feel like one of the roasted pigs on display in the center of the hall.
Continuing her study, her cheeks heated.
In almost every corner, a couple appeared entwined together in intimacy, each pair more wicked than the last. Across the hall, a gentleman even went so far as to lift a lady's skirts, while she laughed and slapped his hands away.
This wild chaos was nothing like the feasts at Lyndon.
"So this is the Panther's bride."
Gillian looked up into the disdainful blue gaze of the woman she had seen with Royce earlier. Anger stole her breath momentarily, as the woman perused her clothing, her expression mocking. Gillian's jaw tightened. She lifted her chin.
"Aye, I am Countess of Montchester. And you?" She kept her voice even. She would show no timidity in front of this woman who reminded her of a rabid dog, her eyes shining with menace.
"This is Lady Joan FitzOsborn." Royce's words drew Gillian's attention. Finally, her husband paid her some notice. Stung it had taken this woman's presence for him to speak to her, she kept her gaze firmly on Lady Joan.
"I understand this is your first time away from your home.
" Though Lady Joan directed the words to Gillian, her eyes remained focused on Royce.
Without looking at her husband, Gillian lifted her hand and placed it upon his on the table.
Her ring glittered in the light. She held back a smile as both her husband and Lady Joan turned their attention to her.
"Aye, but with my husband by my side, wherever we are feels like home."
One perfectly arched blonde eyebrow lifted over Lady Joan's eye. Underneath her hand, Royce's trembled and he coughed suddenly. She never pulled her gaze from Lady Joan.
"Aren't you lucky?"
Joan's mocking words inflamed Gillian's simmering anger. Before she could speak, Royce squeezed her fingers.
"Lady Joan, your betrothed beckons." He nodded toward the lower tables.
The blonde looked over her shoulder, lips pressed together in a thin line. "Excuse, me, my lord. Countess." Yet Lady Joan ignored Gillian, focusing only on Royce. "We will speak again, my lord. Soon."
Gillian studied her husband's icy expression and shivered. She'd felt that cold stare on her more than once. Yet, when he turned to her, a different man met her gaze.
His eyes warmed to liquid amber, his mouth curved in a slight smile.
Her heart raced to recognize his affection.
Forgotten was the haughty Lady Joan, the shameful courtiers.
Gillian could only gaze transfixed at her husband, as he stared almost lovingly at her.
Despite their tumultuous start, Gillian finally felt her marriage would not be an endless prison of misery.
Royce leaned close, his mouth hovering near her ear. "I have no desire to stay for the entire feast. But I find I am still hungry."
His low voice and insinuating words started a heat that quickly spread through her core. Her fingers trembled in his. Her body already prepared for him, her sex growing slick and hot. She pressed her thighs together in a vain effort to quell the fire.
"There are more courses to be served, and the sweets have not been brought out." Hard as she tried, she couldn't keep the tremor from her voice. His wink told her he noticed.
"I have something much sweeter for you to enjoy."
She licked her lower lip, her breath hitching in her throat. "Mayhap we can leave now."
He threw his head back and roared with laughter. When he calmed, his grin left her heart racing in an erratic rhythm.
"I have indeed created a Wildcat. I will make our excuses to the king."
She found her impatience growing as Edward lured her husband into another discussion of strategy. Another course was served, but she no longer had any appetite for food. Finally Royce turned to her, offering his hand while he stood.
"Come, I would depart now."
Happiness bubbled in her when he slid an arm around her shoulders, holding her close beside him.
His fingers toyed with her hair, the gentle touch stirring all sorts of shivery sensations.
He guided her toward the stairs and when they passed the lower tables, she caught Lady Joan openly staring.
The man beside her angrily forced the woman to look at him.
Though Gillian couldn't hear his words, she knew he scolded Lady Joan.
She shouldn't be so pleased to see the woman's disappointed humiliation.
Had marriage turned her into a bloodthirsty shrew?
The stroke of her husband's hand along her arm chased her thoughts. She looked up to see his warm smile as he guided her up the stairs. 'Twould seem she worried for naught.
***
Royce led Gillian into their chamber where Edith tended the fire. He ordered her out, shaking his head at the timid woman as she nearly ran from the room. Gillian's chuckle drew his attention.
"Why does she fear me?"
"You are an intimidating man, my lord." Laughter laced her words.
"You are not intimidated."
"Nay. I see you for what you really are."
He arched an eyebrow. "What would that be?"
"A man who likes people to fear him, though in truth, you are not as terrifying as you think."
He stepped closer, loving the way the firelight illuminated her slender neck when she tilted her head back. He ran a finger along her skin, savoring her shiver.
"There are those who say I am the fiercest knight in Edward's army."
"I'm sure in battle, your nickname holds true. But the Panther I know is as fierce as a kitten."
He grabbed her arms, pulling her against him. "I've shown my ferocity many times, and will again, should it be necessary. And if you dare speak such inanity to anyone else, you will be punished for it."
"Fear not, I have no plans to ruin your reputation. For now."
The sparkle in her eyes stirred him as much as her body against his. She taunted him deliberately and he gave a moment's thanks that his wife enjoyed the darker side of pleasure near as much as he did. Already his cock had hardened to steel, and he wanted to be inside her. Now.
He took her mouth in a devouring kiss, thrusting his tongue deep. He would never tire of her taste. Or her eager response. Her hands pulled at his tunic, and he drew away.
"Calm yourself, Wildcat. I would have this last. And you have not completely agreed to keep my secret, have you?"
Her wicked grin set the blood to boiling in his veins.
"I may need to be convinced."
"Ere long, you will be begging for my mercy."
She stood straight, meeting his gaze brazenly.
"I hope so."
"Remove my clothes."
She arched an eyebrow and for a moment, he thought she meant to refuse. After a brief hesitation, she set about undoing the laces of his overtunic, instructing him to lift his arms so she could pull it off. But he was too tall, and she frowned.
"I cannot reach." She strode to the bed and climbed up, rising to stand.
He grinned as she beckoned him with one finger.
He moved to stand before her and she was now able to pull the tunic over his head.
The shirt underneath came next, leaving his chest bared.
She paused then, a wicked smile curving her lips as she stroked his shoulders and chest. Her nails scraped against his nipples and he shivered under the rough caress.
He'd taught his wife well, he realized, as her soft hands moved over his skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
He held her knowing gaze, allowing her the freedom to continue.
When her fingers trailed lower, he inhaled sharply, gritting his teeth at the sensation of her untying the laces of his hose.
She slowly pushed them away, her gaze lowering to land on his straining cock as it was freed from confinement.
"'Twould seem you are ready for me already, Panther."
He growled in response, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her against him.
He drove his tongue deep into her mouth, even as he kicked his hose aside.
He lowered her to the bed, his cock settling against her wet and hot pussy, her legs opening to welcome him.
Despite the need raging through him, he held back, content to devour her mouth and savor the feel of her damp fire.
She pulled away breathing heavily. "Now, my lord. Please."
He gave her a lazy smile and shook his head, drawing a finger down her neck. "Not yet. I would make this last."
Once more she began her teasing torment with her hands, stroking every part of him she could reach. His head spun with the desire to plunge into her. Somehow he managed to refrain. Instead, he caught her wrists, raising her arms above her head and holding her in place.
"You tempt me beyond my endurance. But I will have control."
She giggled, the lilting sound wafting over him like a soothing melody. He studied her, her skin burnished in the firelight, eyes glowing with lust. The sight almost made him come right there, without even being inside her.
"You will not move." He curled her fingers around the bed rail. "If you let go, you will be punished."