Desired (65 page)

As his kisses grew more demanding, she covered his hand which cupped her breast, and slid it gently down to cover her belly. Then she put her lips to his ear and whispered, “Darling, you are going to be a father again, but this time I feel it will be a boy.”

Edward groaned and swung his feet to the floor. Joan’s fingers flew to her lips, wishing she could catch back her words. Her prince did not sound overjoyed.

“Get dressed,” he murmured.

“Are you angry?” Joan asked in a small voice.

“Angry?” he questioned.

“You sound annoyed,” she ventured.

“My darling little Jeanette, I am only annoyed with your timing. I am in the throes of passion and your news makes it impossible for me to continue.”

“Why?” she asked softly.

“Because I am taking you before the priest so he can marry us.”

“We have no dispensation.”

“To hell with the dispensation!”

“Edward, are you sure?”

He slid his great hands beneath her armpits and lifted her to stand on the bed so they were of equal height. “My sweetheart, I have never been more sure of anything in my life. If you are right, and you are carrying my son, he can only become king if he is legitimate. I intend to see there is absolutely no question of that. When we get the dispensation, we can be married again. At Westminster. I’ll insist on it! All the royal family will be present and all England’s nobility will pay you homage as the Princess of Wales. We will make it legal and binding, however, this night!”

“Whatever shall I wear?” Joan asked breathlessly.

Edward began to chuckle. “It’s after midnight and only an ancient priest will see you.”

“That doesn’t matter. I have to look beautiful for my wedding.”

Edward nuzzled her ear. “Wear something you can slip off easily, beneath one of my cloaks, for I intend to hurry back to make you finish what you started.” He rubbed his swollen manroot against her soft thigh, but Joan’s imagination had already taken flight.

“May I wear the crimson velvet cloak with the golden leopards across the back?”

He groaned again. “I suppose so, but that means I have to go all the way back to the palace to get it.”

“Poor Edward. Am I a sore trial to you?”

He kissed her pretty nose, unable to refuse her anything. “You are my lady love and I am your knight errant. I undertake this quest for you alone.”

Joan giggled. “I shall reward you, Edward Plantagenet.”

The King of France, his four sons, and all his nobles who had been taken prisoner enjoyed the King and Queen of England’s lavish hospitality at Bordeaux. They hoped to be able to stay in southern France until their ransoms were paid, but the Plantagenets were practical enough to realize the temptation to escape would be too great.

In late October ships were readied to transport their valuable prisoners to England, and in a magnificent burst of generosity, King Edward gave John of France the newly built palace on the Thames called the Savoy, for his sojourn on English soil. As a parting gesture of goodwill, a great hunt had been planned, which would be followed by a feast before the Plantagenets’ “guests” sailed across the Channel.

Brianna and Joan had been looking forward to the hunt for days. The autumn weather was beautiful. The oppressive heat of the summer months had departed, giving way to warm sunshine, tempered by refreshing sea breezes.

The moment Brianna threw back the covers to arise, a wave of nausea washed over her. She hoped it would pass, but as she bathed, a pungent aroma coming from the kitchens did her in. She was indelicately sick in her washbowl and began to feel decidedly sorry for herself. The thought of going on a hunt would give her about as much pleasure as being buried alive, so she urged Joan to go without her. The new bride was positively glowing and she looked absolutely ravishing in an apricot velvet riding jacket.

Brianna dragged herself out to the fountain to shower away the nasty miasma of her morning sickness, then climbed the stairs to her chamber most gingerly, to ensure her stomach would settle down. To cheer herself she chose her prettiest gown in a rich peacock shade, leaving her hair unbound so that the ends could dry in the sun.

She wandered out to the balcony to watch the hunt leave the royal palace. It was like a rich tapestry springing to life. Her artist’s eye appreciated the vivid colors, the glossy coats of the horses, the hawks and the hunting dogs.

Her eyes suddenly widened in disbelief, for there, as large as life, rode Lisette St. Lô, flirting outrageously with the King of France. Brianna’s anger effectively chased away
her morning sickness. The baroness was supposed to be a bloody prisoner, yet here she was, dressed to kill, being lavishly entertained by two kings. To Brianna, life seemed abysmally unfair. She went back into her chamber, flung herself upon the bed, and wished the world, and everyone in it, to hellfire!

Christian Hawksblood and Ali disembarked from a vessel that had just anchored at Bordeaux’s busy docks. Both wore Arabian robes and turbans and between the men was a veiled woman. They helped her mount a magnificent white Arabian steed, then together they rode beside the river Garonne that wound its way toward the towering Abbey of St. Andrew.

When the trio dismounted outside Warrick’s white stone palace, Ali took charge of their mounts. Then Prince Drakkar took hold of his mother’s hand and led her inside.

Warrick had been polishing his broadsword, determined to keep it honed and rust-free. That he might never use it again in battle mattered not to the warrior. He looked up, instantly aware of approaching footsteps before they ever entered the room.

Hawksblood paused in the doorway, his turban almost brushing the lintel. Aquamarine eyes met, locked, then sparkled with joy at their reunion. Though he had never said so to Brianna, Warrick had been racked with worry over his son’s long absence. Now he broke into a relieved grin and was startled at the whiteness of Christian’s teeth against his dark face when he grinned back.

Then Hawksblood stepped to one side, revealing the figure of a small, veiled woman. As she lifted a jeweled hand to remove her veil, Christian caught a look of naked vulnerability upon Guy de Beauchamp’s face, and knew that must be exactly the way his own face looked whenever his gaze fell upon Brianna.

Christian suddenly realized that this moment was so intimate, it was meant for lovers alone, with no other eyes to witness such heart-stopping tenderness. Without a word, he faded from the scene, quite certain that they were aware only of each other.

Brianna jumped as the kitten dashed through her chamber with Gnasher nipping at its tail. It ran out onto the balcony and jumped up onto the roof in a frenzied effort to escape its tormentor.

Brianna was thoroughly exasperated. She sprang up and went out onto the balcony. “This is the last straw!” The kitten cowered on the tile roof, while Gnasher debated whether to follow it and risk Brianna’s fury or sit contritely while she scolded him.

“You wretched little devil … I’ll cut off your bloody whiskers!” she threatened. The black-footed ferret took off as if he believed her. Thoroughly vexed, she called to the kitten. “Here, Muffie … come, Muffie … the bad boy has gone now … here, Muffie. Damn it, Adele, why did you have to give it such a sissy name? I feel like the world’s biggest fool calling Muffie!” she said to thin air.

It was obvious the little cat was not going to come down on its own. Someone would have to go out on the roof for it. It was also equally obvious who that someone would be. Brianna pulled up her skirts, then aided by the lattice that ran upward from the balcony, she climbed onto the roof. On hands and knees she crawled up the pitch of the roof to where the kitten huddled.

“What the hell are you doing up there?” a deep voice demanded.

Brianna’s heart lifted. “Christian!” she gasped, standing up so she could get a full view of him. All her irritation with the world wafted away with the breeze. Brianna laughed. “I climbed to the rooftop to shout to the world that I love you.” Then she cupped her hands about her mouth, threw back her head, and shouted, “I love Christian de Beauchamp!”

“I married a crazy woman. Come down!” he thundered.

“Catch me,” she called back.

“Brianna, for the love of Allah, don’t jump; it’s too high!” he said with alarm.

“Love of Allah be damned, I’m doing it for the love of Christian!” Her heart soared, her senses overflowed with happiness, making her giddy. It was a heady experience.

“I’ll come up and help you down. Don’t attempt to jump, it isn’t safe!”

“I’ll always be safe in your arms. Catch me!” Brianna scooped up the kitten, ran lightly down the tiles to the roof’s edge, then flung herself down into Hawksblood’s upstretched arms. They rolled onto the grass in a tangle of cape, skirts, and golden hair. The kitten leaped away and Christian’s turban rolled after it.

Hawksblood’s face was fierce with fury, but Brianna’s laughter was so infectious, he felt his anger melt into mirth. “Why did you do such a reckless thing?”

She laughed up into his dark face and looked deeply into his aquamarine eyes. “I listened to my heart.”

Christian examined her beautiful face with intense scrutiny. The shadow behind her eyes was gone, along with all semblance of decorum. He rolled with her until he was in the dominant position. With mock solemnity he reminded her, “When you wed me, you said:
I submit myself to your authority, my lord husband
.”

“And you said:
With my body, I thee worship
, but not on the front lawn where everyone can see, I hope,” she teased, feeling his iron-hard erection against her belly.

“Is that all you think about?” he demanded in shocked tones.

“Oh, once in a while my thoughts drift off to inconsequential things, but they always come back to the heart of the matter, the
pièce de résistance
, the
crème de la crème
.”

“Your French tongue improves.”

“I still need lessons; practice makes perfect.”

Christian could hold back no longer. He needed to taste the deliciously tempting morsel held captive beneath him. When his mouth took possession of hers, he was thoroughly bemused by her passionate response. Was he imagining it, or was she inviting dalliance?

To test the water, he ran his lips down her throat to the delicious place where her breast rose slightly above her square neckline. She arched up like a feline when it wished to be stroked. His eyes couldn’t hide his amusement. He’d give her strokes if that’s what she craved!

Christian took Brianna’s hand and drew her into the house. Their bedchamber was the goal he had in mind, but after two steps in that direction they encountered Adele, who was almost as overjoyed as Brianna to see the head of
the household returned. Ever chivalrous, Christian could not show his impatience with Adele and answered her questions cheerfully.

Next came Paddy, equally overjoyed, but with twice as many questions. When Joan came running down the stairs to greet him and tell him her news that she and Prince Edward were secretly wed, Christian’s eyes met Brianna’s with a helpless, yet amused glance.

Within the next five minutes Ali and Edward arrived. The Black Prince questioned him about going to Avignon for the dispensation and from there the conversation naturally progressed to Hawksblood’s other adventurous travels. When Gnasher ran in, ran up Hawksblood’s leg and perched on his shoulder, he and Brianna started to laugh. Their mirth knew no bounds. They laughed until the tears rolled down their cheeks. They wanted to be alone, they ached to make love after their long separation, but both of them knew they would not be sharing their bed until after dark. Spacious though it was, it could not accommodate seven people and a ferret!

Brianna ordered food and it was a laughing Glynis who brought it from the kitchen and served it with the help of Sir Randal Grey. The four couples, all very much in love, talked the afternoon away. Before Christian could tell them why he had been so long away, Brianna took his hand. “I know where you were … you went home. Your father told me you were both worried about your mother. You had a premonition that the black plague might touch her in some way. I pray that you found her in good health, my lord.”