Page 67 of Lord of Loyalty

Chapter Thirty-Seven

When Isobel awoke from her light doze, she felt the change in herself. She had become a woman, having spent a magical night in Will’s arms. His gentle wooing had gradually overcome her reluctance. Before the clock struck midnight, her naked body was pressed against his, every part of her thrumming with a heady desire instilled by his touch. From the moment his mouth closed over her erect nipple and suckled at it, she’d been lost.

When she’d felt that secret part of him, potent and aroused, she’d drawn back in fear, but he’d soothed and consoled her, then stoked her to a writhing passion which had nearly vanquished her. Something had snapped inside her, and a rush of hot sensation in her loins had given way to an overwhelming desire for fulfillment.

The moment of Will’s possession had consumed her. Despite the initial sharp jab of pain, she’d clenched her legs around his body, clinging to him frantically as he surged into her, driving her wilder with every thrust until she felt ready to explode. And explode she had, at the same moment that he went rigid inside her, then moaned out his release and buried his face against her neck.

As she’d lain holding him, feeling his comforting weight and the still ardent pressure of his body inside her, she thanked every Power she could think of for the joy of their union. She knew he did not lack experience of women, but felt no jealousy for her predecessors—instead, she silently blessed whoever had taught him so well to discover and arouse a woman’s most intimate parts.

It had almost torn her in two when he’d eased himself out of her body but, instantly, he was back, shifting position to tuck her closely into his side while he murmured breathless thanks and compliments in her ear.

She hadn’t meant to stay all night. She hadn’t expected him to make love to her at all, and even when he did, she’d thought once the deed was done, she’d be permitted to escape.

But it was not to be. Will had held her, talked to her, told her of his hopes and plans for their future. Then he’d caressed her until her whole body trembled with desire for him, and he took her again, slowly, deliciously—until she feared she would faint from the pleasure.

Becoming more fully awake, she was aware of the grey touch of dawn around the edges of the shutters and could hear the sound of a robin trilling from a nearby tree. She couldn’t move—her body was entwined with Will’s, the sheet thrown haphazardly over them.

It was vital she go to her own chamber now before the servants started scampering around. But first, she must rouse Will.

She ran her fingers through his tousled hair. He stirred but didn’t wake. She thought, sorrowing, of her own missing locks, and loved that it had made not one whit of difference to Will’s feelings for her. In fact, he’d insisted she remove her coif and had gently kissed her scalp, telling her she had a beautifully shaped head, and he’d still love her, even if her hair never grew back again.

She ran a hand over her scalp and felt a rasping softness there. Her hair was growing back already—a wash made with blackberry leaves might encourage it. If she remembered rightly, rosemary made an effective hair tonic. She could try that, too.

Will’s hand moved against her thigh, then began a rhythmic caress. He was awake. And interested.

“Tell me, Will, do you want children?”

The hand paused for a moment, then continued its stroking. “I shall be happy to have some, my love, if you are. Especially if they’re dark and beautiful, like their mother.”

“Nay. I would prefer them to be noble and golden, like their father.”

“Noble and golden?” She could hear the smile in his voice. “That is a compliment to treasure. But you won’t think that in thirty years’ time when I’m wizened and grey.”

“I shall still love you then.” She paused, teasingly. “Assuming you’ve proved a good husband.”

“I’ll do my best to keep you satisfied.” His hand moved up to claim her breast. “In as many ways as you can think of.”

She swallowed and tried to moisten a throat gone suddenly dry. “Why did you do it? Why did you want me to stay with you?”

“Because I wanted to be sure of your answer. ‘Probably positive’ wasn’t good enough for me. I thought if I ruined you, you’d have no choice.”

“Damned scoundrel.” She twisted in his arms to make a pretend slap at him, then saw blood soaking through the bandage on his arm.

“Will, you’re bleeding!”

He examined his bicep. “’Tis but a trifle. In my enthusiasm last night, I quite forgot about it.”

She frowned, concern mingling with annoyance.

He pulled her closer and brushed a light kiss on her temple. “Don’t worry—I shall have the banns called immediately. We’ll be wed before anyone knows what we have done this night, and then we can do it all again, without a stain on our conscience. You know as well as I how many brides are no longer virgins on their wedding day.”

He stroked her with undemanding tenderness, running his hands over as much of her naked body as he could reach—as if teaching himself her form so he could remember it always. She wanted to do the same to him—he felt warm, relaxed, and totally, utterly desirable. How had she even managed to doze with his tempting body pressed so firmly against her?

Yet somehow, she must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, bright sunlight was flooding through the gaps in the shutters, and someone was banging on the chamber door.

“Sir William, I regret disturbing you.” It was Goodwife Cooper’s voice. As Will stirred next to her, Isobel leapt from the bed, dragged her shift over her head, and started hunting for her coif. Where could she hide? She mustn’t be found here!

“Sir William.”

Isobel glared at Will and shook her head. He looked grim, but rose from the bed with the sheet around his waist and strode to the door.

“Goody Cooper. Forgive me—I slept badly due to my injured arm. What’s amiss?”

“It’s Master Maybury, sir. He says he needs to see you urgently. He has Paulina Mathieson with him.”

Isobel’s heart sank. Just when she thought the Fates had decreed she might be happy, they’d changed their minds. Both she and Will were about to be vilified.