“And she would have cared for you during the time after you lost the child?
“Yes,” frowned Gwyneth. “But she didn’t know…”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “My sweet, you were an innocent young girl. Most maids are much better informed about the functioning of a woman’s body. She knew. Whether you told her or not, she knew.”
Gwyneth blinked. “I must admit I never thought of that,” she answered. “But…it’s possible.”
“And so you wed the Earl?”
“My parents thought it a good marriage. They were a bit worried about me, since I had become somewhat quiet and I’m sure I wasn’t the best company. They felt an older man would perhaps give me what I needed.”
“Did he?”
“Yes and no.” She looked at him. “He gave me a home, and security. And I think in his own way he cared for me. He certainly didn’t mind exercising his husbandly rights.”
“But he must have known you weren’t a virgin,” he gave her a curious look.
“He never mentioned it.” She sighed. “Our wedding night was a fumbled and mostly drunken affair. The Earl liked fine brandy and his wedding seemed an excellent opportunity for him to indulge. I don’t even know if he remembered doing his duty, since he passed out a moment later. On top of me.”
“Ouch.” Royce winced. “So much for married bliss.”
“Quite,” she replied, dryly.
He stood, walked to the bed and looked at her, then cupped her cheek, raised her face and kissed her. It was a solid kiss, tongue, lips…fingers spreading down to caress her neck and chin. But she felt more comforted by it, than aroused. Perhaps that was his intent.
Then he reached down and pushed her legs apart, and the kiss turned to something else.
*~~*~~*
Journal of Gwyneth, Dowager Countess, Lady of Wolfbridge - May 1818
I don’t know what time it is, other than it is late…my candles are nearly gutted and I am exhausted, but since next week is the final stage of preparation for the Whit Sunday fête, I know it will be busy. And I have thoughts to write down that must be captured now, while they’re still fresh in my mind.
Royce. One name, one simple name, but a very complex and unexpected man.
I told him of my loss, my pain - I believe he understood. Did he also understand my shame? I’m not sure, since I cannot say I understand it myself. But it is there, a silent but present agony that I will probably always carry with me. He confirmed he was once a soldier, and that alone helped when I began my sorry tale. I saw something in his eyes, sympathy or an equal pain…whatever it was he listened and finally comforted me with a deep and loving kiss.
I say loving, because that’s how it felt. For those moments, I truly felt as if he was soothing me, telling me that he understood, and that I could put down my sorrow for a little while.
His movements after that - well, any thoughts of the past and sorrow were driven completely out of my head.
He was standing before me, then suddenly he reached down, thrust my legs apart and pulled me to the edge of the bed so that our bodies were aligned. My robe fell open, my naked body revealed.
Should I confess I untied his robe? I did, my hands trembling as I saw his eyes watching them. His body, thus revealed, proved itself to be a masterpiece of masculine sculpture, albeit with several scars that look as if they caused him great pain. One ran from his thigh up to his hip and had it been several inches to the left - well he would not have had anything in the way of arousal.
Thank God that was not the case.
Royce is possessed of a magnificent set of attributes, as perfect as any statue of any ancient god. His muscles gleamed and I ran my hands over him, noticing how he responded by hardening even more as I did so.
He asked if his body pleased me. I simply looked at him, then knelt and took him into my mouth. How else could I truly answer his question?
He seemed content, resting his hand on the back of my head, guiding me sometimes, letting me find my own rhythm at others. His taste was salty sweet, musky, with a dash of the sandalwood soap he must use when bathing. I admit I enjoyed what I did to him, knowing he was enjoying it as well. A mutual pleasure, one might say.
However, even though at that time I assumed events would progress along the usual and customary lines, I found I was mistaken.
Instead of claiming me, Royce pulled free and looked at me. Then he asked if I would obey him…let him show me a different kind of pleasure.
I wasn’t sure how to respond, and he could see my uncertainty, because he smiled. And when Royce smiles that particular smile - I defy any woman to refuse him anything.
