The Overlord's Bride

“Absolutely not. I told you, it was the rich food.” She leaned her head against his broad chest, the wool slightly rough against her cheek. “And perhaps the wine—a little. Don’t be angry with me, please, my lord. I promise I will do better tomorrow. It has been a very strange day.”

Was he laughing?

She drew back and studied him. No, she must have been mistaken.

They reached the bedchamber and he pushed open the door with his foot, then waited as Cadmus trotted into the room.

“Does he sleep here, too?”

Her husband nodded. “Guards the door.”

“Can he not do that from outside?”

“He looks for intruders.”

Elizabeth struggled out of his arms. “You have intruders?”

“I am cautious,” he said. He steadied her as her feet touched the ground.

“Oh.” The tower seemed very cold when she was not in his arms.

Cadmus appeared at the door, panting.

“I suppose that means it is safe?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that is a relief, I must say. Although I think a man would have to be mad to try to attack you in your own castle.”

“A man might be,” he agreed as he walked into the room ahead of her.

She followed him, noting that now a candleholder bearing several beeswax candles illuminated the room. The sight of his back and the realization he was undoing his wide leather belt made her hesitate on the threshold.

He glanced back at her over his shoulder. “He won’t bite.”

“I hope not.”

His lips twitched. “I will not, either.”

She smiled, albeit warily, as she sidled farther into the room. To avoid the big dog on her right, she would have to go toward the bed. Or toward her husband, who was even now tossing his belt on the chest near the narrow window. What a choice!

She shouldn’t have insisted on getting married today. Tomorrow would have done just as well, and given her more time to get used to the idea….

What in the name of the saints was wrong with her? she thought, suddenly annoyed with herself. One more day wouldn’t have made a difference in her feelings, and another day might have seen her sent back to the convent.

God’s rood, this marriage was the best thing that had happened to her. What kind of silly little fool was she becoming, to be so coy and shy? Even if this man was a stranger to her, he was a very thrilling stranger.

With new determination, she briskly untied the lacing at the sides of the beautiful gown and drew it off. She boldly marched past her husband, and with care, laid the garment on the chest beside his belt. Then, clad in her thin shift, she climbed into the bed.

And watched the groom disrobe.

Chapter Five

E lizabeth Perronet was undoubtedly the strangest woman he had ever met, Raymond decided as he purposefully ignored her. It was as if she had no idea of what she was doing, or how her actions might be interpreted by those around her.

More importantly, it was as if she had no concept of dignity and the respect due to him, her lord and her husband.

Kissing him like that, for one thing, he silently grumbled as he tugged off his long tunic and threw it over the chest on top of the velvet gown and his leather belt. He didn’t want her to kiss him, not then and not ever. Tonight he would take her as swiftly as he could, and with as little intimacy as possible.

She didn’t want people to think she had been forced to marry him? What in the name of God did it matter what his people thought? He was their lord, their governor and protector. That was all they needed to know and remember.

Then to get nearly drunk! By God, she had just about fallen in the hall. There was no excuse for that. He had to pick her up and carry her away before she disgraced him entirely.

Half-naked, he washed his face with the cold water in the basin.

His body had, of course, reacted to the sensation of her body in his arms. It would to any woman in a similar situation. And when she leaned her head against him as if she felt safe with him—

He didn’t want her to feel safe with him, just as he would never feel safe with her, lest she betray him, too.

God save him, how could he forget that harsh lesson, even when she spoke so winningly as he held her, her casual observation that it had been a “strange day” actually making him chuckle?

Then take her and be done, his mind commanded. Consummate the marriage as if it were any other bargain. Why hesitate? Why not simply go to bed?

He whirled around—to find Elizabeth unabashedly staring at him as she sat in his bed, his covers pulled up over her breasts, her long, waving hair flowing about her, her bright eyes gleaming. “You’ve got a lot of scars,” she observed.

Suddenly, he felt more than half-naked, which was utterly ridiculous. He was no youth with his first woman!

He strode to the bed, sat on it and yanked off his boots.

He jumped when she ran a finger along one of the scars on his back. “Don’t!” he snarled.

He heard the ropes creak as she moved back.

He rose and removed his breeches, dropping them on the floor. He turned around, facing her.

“I’ve never seen a naked man before,” she whispered, staring at him. “Are they all like you?”

Without answering, he lifted the sheets and got in. He moved on top of her and shoved her shift out of the way.

Then he closed his eyes and imagined the first woman he had been with, an accommodating serving wench. He had been fourteen. Gildred had been very accommodating.

He remembered that day with Gildred in the orchard, when he had learned a mouth could do more than eat and drink and speak and kiss.

His bride was moist, but there was a barrier. So, she was indeed a virgin. Good.

He slowed a moment, then pushed. He heard a gasp, but no other cry. He started to thrust, slowly at first, then faster, and Elizabeth began to move in rhythm with him.

Gildred’s mouth.