Choose the Sky: A Medieval Romance (Swordcross Knights Book 2) (17 page)

“Yes, he led the whole group.”

“Oh.” Mina paused, reassessing. Now that she knew the sound came from without, rather than within, she realized her head in fact felt much better. “Well, at least I’m not going mad,” she said aloud.

“Do you wish to dress, my lady? It’s nearly midday.”

Mina never slept so late. She rose immediately and let Constance dress her and style her hair. As the maid tamed the unruly red tresses, Mina sat quietly, still not feeling like herself. In fact, she would never feel like herself again. Not with Luc permanently part of her world.

I’m a wife
, she thought to herself. The idea was still so new and foreign.

“Is it only your head that aches?” Constance asked, very hesitantly. “He was…kind last night?”

Mina blushed when she realized what Constance meant. She’d never admit she couldn’t remember a thing. “I have no complaint,” she said shortly.

“Yes, my lady.” Constance understood that tone, which meant the subject would never be under discussion again. As the maid was settling a fine veil over Mina’s hair, securing it with a pretty ribbon around her head, she added, “I am very glad for you, my lady.”

“Glad?”

“He is both handsome and generous, and seems determined to be a good master here. Ban says only good things about Luc as a master. The king chose well. Everyone thinks you’re very lucky.”

Mina said nothing to that. So that was the talk of the castle, was it? Domina worked for years to keep Trumwell safe and in the hands of the de Warewics, but in one night, everyone forgot all that effort. Instead, they called her lucky for getting married off to a knight chosen simply because he happened to be in the king’s line of sight.

She stood up, smoothing her skirts. “I’ll go to visit my father,” she announced. “At least I no longer need to hide that.”

Mina marched through the great hall, striving to look as though nothing was different from the days before. It was difficult, considering the aftermath of the wedding feast. Despite all the maids’ and scullions’ efforts, remnants of the feast lay scattered about the hall. There were baskets of uneaten bread, boughs of winter greenery brought in to decorate the tables, and the occasional drunkard still slouched in a corner.

“I want all this cleaned up by suppertime,” Domina told Ancel, who was approaching. “Send the excess food to the village church, if need be. And wake those fools up! Surely they all have work to do.”

“My lady, yesterday was hardly typical…”

“I am aware of that,” she said. “Do you think I get married off every month?”

“No, my lady.”

“I’m going to spend the afternoon with my father,” she said. “Unless you have business to discuss?”

“No, my lady,” said Ancel. “I don’t wish to prevent you from your filial duties. I’ll speak to my lord Luc when he returns.”

“Ah. So now that I’m a mere wife, my opinion is no longer needed?”

“That’s not what I meant,” the steward mumbled. “I only wanted to inform the lord of things he ought to know.”

“Well, if you have need of me, you’ll know where I am. No more need to conceal it.”

“No, praise the Lord.”

She glared at him. “You agreed to the plan.”

“Because I saw no other option. But no one liked keeping things hidden, and surely you see how much easier life is now that the lord knows.”

“I would not say that my life has got any easier,” she said, turning away.

Her fury kept her warm during the short walk across the courtyard. She went into her father’s apartment, where Beatrice was warming something for Godfrey to drink. One of the castle cats lounged by the fire, stretching its claws whenever a spark snapped.

“How is he?” she asked the maid. “Has the noise disturbed him?”

“He’s well enough,” Beatrice replied. “He asked about the sound, which I took for a good sign.”

“You told him what was happening?”

“I said the men were cutting back the woods, and he told me he’d done that only last fall. He doesn’t know what year it is.”

“Well, at least he remembers where he is.”

“That’s true. Tomorrow will be quieter. Bless the new lord—he’s done more in a day than Haldan did in two years.”

Mina said nothing to that, but told Beatrice she could leave. “I’ll sit with him till sundown.”

Beatrice nodded and left. Mina took up the embroidery that she kept in the room. The work kept her busy while she spent time with her father. She always tried to talk with him, but so often he slept, or mumbled incoherently. It was good to have her hands busy.

Today, though, no handwork could calm her mind. Beatrice’s comments seemed to be like everyone else’s. They were all glad of Luc’s arrival. They were all relieved to have a man in authority again.

  She had to admit that in many ways, Luc seemed to be far better than what she might have got in a husband. He took the defense of the castle seriously, which was important. Haldan treated it like it was a game.

She shivered, thinking of her last encounter with the soldier. She couldn’t deny that Luc’s arrival helped her there, too.

Mina was glad Haldan was gone, though she hated that it was Luc who finally resolved the matter. She felt the tenuous threads of power slipping from her hands every hour. From the moment Luc set foot in her home, he’d begun to strip all her defenses away, leaving her helpless and weak. She hated herself for not standing up to him with more force, and she hated how everyone but herself seemed ready to bow to him, to accept him as lord and master with virtually no knowledge about him.

Mina frowned, recalling the oddness of the marriage announcement. He’d never quite explained why he was given notice of the arrangement while she was not—and the king’s jest back in court certainly didn’t qualify as an announcement!

He’d come to Trumwell Castle with some goal in mind, and it couldn’t just be the marriage or he’d have told her about it immediately. Instead, he’d done so only after seeing her father’s true state.

Mina reached out to her father and held his hand, thinking hard. What was Luc’s game? He accused her of lying to him, of keeping secrets. Yet he was keeping secrets of his own, and until he revealed them, she’d be a fool to trust her new husband.

“Mina, my child?” her father asked, startling her out of her reverie. “Is that you?”

“Yes, Father,” she said. “How are you? Thirsty? I have some warmed wine here.”

He nodded. “Yes, that will do. The chopping has stopped.”

She listened to the silence from the outside. She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t noticed. “So it has. We won’t lack for firewood next season!” She smiled. At least there was one thing everyone could agree on.

“I didn’t think it needed doing,” he said, his voice growing a bit stronger. “How does Trumwell fare? Have I forgot something?”

“Trumwell is in good hands,” she said soothingly. “You must not worry.”

“I worry, Mina,” he said, casting his gaze over her. “I have strange dreams. Where is my Emma? Where is little Joscelin?”

“Joscelin is in London, studying. Remember? And your wife has been taken to God, many years ago now.”

He sighed. “Oh, yes. Sometimes I think I hear her. Perhaps it’s your voice. You sound like her.”

“That’s what Ancel says,” Mina told him.

“That old dog,” Godfrey said fondly. “He said Emma was too pretty for me. Shows what he knows! I must find a husband for you, little Mina. You’ll be old enough to marry soon.”

“We can talk about that another time,” Mina said, sadness washing over her. Her father seemed lost, thinking they were in the past. She didn’t dare tell him the ugly truth, for fear he’d have a fit and lose the meager progress he’d been making.

“Not too long,” he said. “I’ll find you a good man. One worthy of a de Warewic woman.”

“I know you will, Father,” she said. “Rest now. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

Her eyes brimming with tears, she fled the room as quickly as she could.

* * * *

Domina endured a supper in the great hall, sitting next to Luc at the high table, with everyone as jovial as they’d been at the wedding feast. They were all pleased with their day’s work, and pleased with their new lord.

Luc himself looked sleekly content, like a cat full of meat after a fresh kill. Like a cat, too, he was clean and well-groomed. He’d bathed after all the hard work that day, so she couldn’t even complain of a stench. In fact, he smelled of the herb-laced soap the castle’s servants made, a smell Mina always adored…until now. Now the smell created a nerve-jangling tension, for it would follow her to bed. And tonight, she hadn’t had a drop of wine to dull her senses.

She excused herself early and went to the bedchamber. Constance attended her, brushing out her thick hair and then tucking her into the bed, clad only in her shift.

Luc came into the bedchamber a few minutes after that. He shed his clothes without a glance in her direction. She peeked anyway, seeing the candlelight reflect off his bare skin, illuminating the muscles in his back and arms. His shoulders alone made her feel a little weak, and she recalled with an uncomfortable heat one image from her wedding night: Luc over her, the shape of his shoulder one bold curve in the candlelight as he…

She pulled the curtain shut, angry at her body’s reaction.

Naturally, however she felt, she couldn’t very well stop Luc from joining her in the bed. The candle snuffed out, and then Luc parted the curtain and slid into bed as if he had every right to be there…which he did.

In the darkness, he reached out to touch her. “You’re still wearing your shift.”

“It’s winter, and I’m cold.”

“Take it off.”

“No.”

“Take it off or I will,” he said. His voice wasn’t threatening. Indeed, there was humor in it. It was almost alluring. But she would have none of it.

“Do not think I’m going to happily obey every order you give,” she said.

“It’s not an order, Domina.”

“It most certainly was an order.
Take it off or I will
,” she mimicked.

“What if I make it a request? Would you please remove your shift, wife, or let me do it?”

She wanted to snap
no
at him, but he’d gentled his voice so much that she felt mean.

“I’ll take it off,” she said finally. “Don’t watch.”

“It’s dark,” Luc noted, again with something close to a laugh in his voice.

“Nonetheless.”

“Very well. My eyes are closed.”

She sat up and gathered up the fabric of her shift. She barely pulled it over her head when she felt Luc’s eager hands on her body, starting at her hips and moving up to her breasts.

“I said don’t watch!” she gasped.

“I’m not watching. I’m touching. Or will you tell me not to do that too?”

“I’m not sure I like it.”

He said, “You liked it last night.”

“I don’t remember a thing about last night,” she said, which wasn’t
entirely
true.

“You must remember something, for at least you didn’t feel the need to drink yourself into insensibility again.” He paused. “You were that afraid of me?”

“Not
you
,” she admitted. “Just…the act itself. I didn’t know what to do, before or during, or even now. I should have told you no, that I didn’t want it.”

“But you did want it. You said
yes
, sweetheart,” he told her. “Last night, I asked you if you wanted me to go on, and you—”

“I said yes?” she asked skeptically.

“You said
please yes
,” he told her, adding an emphasis that made heat rise in her cheeks. She remembered, suddenly, saying exactly
please yes
.

With those words, he began to touch her again, growing bolder.

She lay silently beneath him, willing herself to not react at all. If Luc thought she was won after a single night, he was wrong.

It was difficult to remain unmoved, because the sensations he created in her were anything but mild. His hands seemed to scorch her skin. She grew hot, her breath quickened, and she found herself leaning into him, rising to meet him. But she refused to speak, to give any verbal hint of how she felt. It seemed important to show him that she didn’t always go to pieces when he touched her so very, very, “
Oh
,” she gasped, unable to completely hide her response.

He could probably guess exactly what moved her, because he lingered over her breasts, playing with her until the buds hardened. Then he slid his hands down to her hips, telling her how perfectly shaped she was, how he wanted to see her in the light.

“No light,” she whispered.

“As you like,” he said. Obviously the darkness wouldn’t stop him.

He settled over her, parting her legs with one hand. She obeyed, hating how easily he managed her, even as she loved the feelings he stirred in her.

Then he touched her right between her legs, and she thought she’d scream with delight.

Why was she so sensitive to his touch? Was it some trick of his? Why did she crave more of his attention?

She stifled a moan, instead inhaling deeply.

“Mina, I need you.” The words surprised her, especially the way he said them. There was no more humor, no more confidence. “Please, Mina.”

What could she say? He was her husband. “You can go on,” she said.

Without another word, Luc entered her, and she couldn’t stop a little gasp. She hadn’t recalled
this
sensation at all. She felt filled up, pushed aside, penetrated.

Quite without meaning to, she gave a little cry of pain.

He stilled immediately. “Does it hurt?” Luc asked.

“Why, do you want it to?” she returned, fear making her voice harsh.

He sighed, his breath hot on the side of her face. “No. Never.”

She swallowed, feeling ashamed. He’d treated her kindly in bed, and she was being so unfair in response. “Just…finish,” she whispered.

He did that quickly enough, and Mina felt every stroke as an assault, not so much against her body—he was obviously holding back—but against herself.

At last he gave a sound of…she supposed completion. He withdrew from her almost in the next breath.

She tried not to think of the heat he left her with, the ache between her legs. She rolled onto her side, facing away from him.