“Then you had best write farewell missives to all your lovers and lemans.”
“I have none.” The disbelief in her face was dangerously flattering. “The women I have known tested the worth of my coin first.” He laughed softly over her continued look of doubt, then grew serious. “Did you know William very well?”
“Nay, not well. We spent only a few hours together. Do you wonder if I grieve?” He nodded slowly. “I did not know him well enough for that. What I felt was but a passing sorrow at the loss of a young, healthy man.”
“Aye, and in such ignominious circumstances.”
He spoke absently, his thoughts centering upon their proximity and their seclusion from all the others. Hers was a beauty the minstrels often sang of. The knowledge that she would soon be his by the laws of both king and God was a heady one. He reached out to touch her bright hair. His gaze became fixed upon her upturned face, upon her full, inviting mouth.
Although she recognized the look upon his face, she did not feel the usual urge to retreat. “Are you going to kiss me?”
“Are you always so bold with your questions?”
“’Tis said I am. Howbeit, I think the wine makes my tongue looser than usual. Are you?” she whispered.
“The thought sits comfortably in my head.” He brushed her cheek with the knuckles of one hand. “Did William kiss you?”
“Aye, and I had to box his ears a time or two. He held some bold ideas about the art of wooing.”
Thayer could easily picture how his cousin would behave towards such a beauty and smiled slightly. “And Robert?”
“I had barely become betrothed to him when you arrived. If you must have a listing,” she drawled, “I must admit to a paucity of kisses. I have, however, suffered a deluge of stomach-churning poetry.”
Her tartness made him grin. “The wine makes you impertinent as well.”
“I fear ’tis not the wine that prompts that fault.” She watched him with an expectant, eager expression, curious as to how his kiss would feel.
Seeing that look, Thayer shook his head in wonder. A slightly foolish grin ghosted over his face as he took her into his arms. It was intoxicating to be the object of her attention. He firmly told himself it would be a fleeting pleasure, leaving as she grew more wordly, but the thought did little to subdue that intoxication.
He brushed his lips over hers, savoring the trembling warmth of her mouth. When she encircled his neck with her slim arms, shyly burrowing her soft hands into his hair, he increased the pressure of his mouth upon hers. It was not until he tried to slip his tongue into her mouth that she pulled away, if only slightly. She eyed him with curiosity and a hint of annoyance, but a warmth still lingered in her gaze.
“At such a moment I boxed William’s ears.” The slow movement of his hands over her back stirred a strange, fierce heat within her.
“Did you warn him as you now warn me?” He traced the delicate lines of her face with soft, gentle kisses.
“Nay.” She was briefly surprised at how breathless, how husky, her voice was.
“’Tis but a part of the kiss, dearling. Come, part your lips for me.” When she did, he gave a soft growl of delight. “Ah, now there is a lovely sight.”
When his mouth covered hers again, she mused that, although she did not know how it looked, it certainly felt lovely. His tongue eased into her mouth, each stroke adding to the heat seeping through her. She tightened her grip upon his neck when he neatly moved her onto his lap. When the kiss ended, she slumped against his arm as she stared at him. Passion clouded her mind, amazement nudging through its haze. He made her insides feel very strange indeed.
Thayer felt a little dazed. Never had a mere kiss stirred him so. He tried to blame the half-light or imagination stirred by an errant hope for what he thought he read in her face. Nothing he told himself could change the soft, heated look in her eyes. Women had been stirred by him before, but none like Gytha. Women like her did not get close enough to test his skill or the lack of it.
“Did I do it well?” she whispered.
He grinned. “Aye. Very well indeed. So well,” he set her away from him, “that I think we had best rejoin the fête.” He winked at her as they stood up. “I have no wish to have my ears boxed.”
Exchanging idle bits of information about each other, they made their way back to the manor, rejoining Margaret and Roger there. Although he participated in their conversation, Thayer was sunk deep into his own thoughts. He found himself weighted down with doubts and fears. Gytha had been betrothed to William, an exceedingly handsome man, then to Robert, who was fair enough to look at. Now she faced marriage to him. She warmed to his kisses now, but he felt sure she would soon resent being bound to the plainest of the cousins. Try as he would to dispel the thought, he looked at his lovely bride and all he saw ahead was trouble.
Chapter Three
Despite a heavy dose of wine, Thayer continued to feel knotted with tension. He stood with Gytha’s three brothers while he waited for his bride. They were as handsome as she was beautiful. Cheerful and witty, they did their best to keep him relaxed with their repartee. It was failing, much to his dismay. Even their camaraderie could not dispel the whispers around him, nor could it blind him to the look in people’s eyes. Pity was what the wedding guests felt for the bride. They felt her beauty was wasted on a man like him and he could not stop himself from agreeing with them.
“I feel ’tis our duty to tell you of our sister’s character.” Fulke Raouille winked at Thayer, his aquamarine eyes alight with laughter.
Thayer managed a smile for the younger man. “Do you mean to list her faults?”
John, the eldest brother, assumed a false air of outrage. “Our sister has no faults. Merely a bend or two to her perfection.”
