This time, there were no tears as she spoke the vows binding him to her. This was the marriage she had longed for, years ago. No matter what lay ahead, they would be together.
Warrick spoke his own vows, and his hands tightened upon hers as he promised to take her as his wife. And when he gave her the kiss of peace, its warmth filled up the emptiness inside her.
The priest blessed their union, and then gave a short Mass within the chapel. Afterwards, they joined the villagers in celebrating the marriage. Warrick remained standing among the men, but he encouraged her to dance with the others and enjoy the night. But she was well aware that he was guarding her, keeping an eye out for their enemies.
She went to stand at his side and took his hand in hers. ‘Are you worried that they’ll find us?’
‘I know they will. The only question is when.’ His grim expression was not reassuring, and it cast a shadow over the wedding celebration.
Rosamund didn’t want to think of it this night. For now, she wanted to push aside the danger and look towards a different future. She took Warrick by the hand and led him towards the dancing. ‘Come and dance with me.’
‘I don’t dance.’ He eyed the villagers as if he would rather have knives thrown at him than join the circle.
‘It’s not so bad. The steps are easy enough.’ She tried to show him, but he glowered at her. In response, she sent him a blinding smile. ‘If you dance with me, I will kiss you.’
His mood softened somewhat, though he still didn’t try the steps. ‘You’ve kissed me already.’
She stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. ‘I didn’t saywhereI would kiss you.’
His eyes flared at her promise. Without another word, Warrick lifted her into his arms and began to carry her away amid the cheers of the wedding guests.
She couldn’t help but smile at his ardour. His long strides covered the distance of the courtyard, and Rosamund started laughing at him. ‘What are you doing, Warrick?’
His expression held unveiled desire. ‘You don’t say something like that to me and expect me to remain with the guests, do you?’
She leaned down and kissed him upon the cheek. ‘There. You’ve had your kiss.’
He lowered her to stand, keeping his arms locked around her waist. ‘Was that where you planned to kiss me? Upon my cheek?’
She nodded, still amused by his assumption. ‘Or I might kiss you here.’ She drew his mouth down to hers, savouring the warmth of his lips. His tongue slipped inside, and she opened to him, feeling the rush of need swirling inside her.
He ended the kiss and sent her a wicked smile. ‘There are other places you could kiss me.’
With that, she raised his hand to her lips. ‘Surely you meant here.’
‘Lower,’ he murmured. And his deep voice sent a thrill of anticipation through her. ‘Wherever you kiss me, I will do the same, Rosamund.’ He lifted her wrist to his mouth and she felt the warmth of his breath within the kiss. Her imagination was caught up with the idea of his mouth upon her, and her skin tightened with her own desire.
Warrick lifted her back into his arms and took her across the threshold into the hall. The partition stood at the back of the space, and furs rested upon the small bed. It was a tiny space, but she supposed that didn’t matter.
Rosamund was torn between wanting to enjoy this night, for all the years they had endured apart...and the memory of Alan’s death. The guilt pushed down on her, for what right did she have to remarry so swiftly and to be glad of it?
‘Are you afraid of me?’ he asked quietly.
‘No.’ But she was afraid of the buried feelings that threatened to overwhelm her. She could not deny her own desire to be with this man, to touch him and take him inside her body. Their marriage would not be valid until that happened. And yet, the shadow of danger lingered here.
Warrick removed his tunic, letting his clothing fall to the ground. His bare chest gleamed in the dim light of the torches set within the space. She reached out to touch his warm flesh and his hardened muscles were like stone beneath her fingers. Then she traced a path around to his back where she touched the lines of his scars. ‘I wish this had never happened to you.’
‘There was a time when I cursed you for them,’ he admitted. ‘For you married Alan in spite of the whipping.’
‘My father was not going to stop. He would have killed you and forced me to watch.’ She let her hand slide down his spine, wrapping her arms around his waist. ‘I could not let that happen.’
‘He only said that to bend you to his will.’
Rosamund lifted her chin to meet his gaze. ‘He said that your own father gave him permission to have you flogged.’ He stiffened at that. But she needed him to understand just how grave the threat had been. ‘I could not bear to watch you die.’
She reached up and touched his face, drawing him down to her. ‘Kiss me, Warrick. And let us forget the years when we were apart.’
His mouth lowered to hers, and he ignited the fire between them. His tongue mingled with hers, and he held her so close, she could feel the rise of his shaft. The pressure between her hips made her ache, and she grew wet between her legs. He began unlacing the gown, lowering it from her shoulders along with her shift until her breasts were bare. The sleeves were so tight, they held her arms pinned at her sides.
