“What isthatdoing up here?”
Reina saw the “that” in question lying smack in the center of her wedding bed. She had had Lady Ella doused for fleas when the cat showed up with the rest of Ranulf’s men, but she had not realized the creature had been sharing the chamber with her master.
“’Tis Ranulf’s pet,” she replied to Dame Hilary’s huffy question.
“Truly?” One of the other ladies giggled.
Reina had to smile, too. If they thoughtthatwas funny, wait until they saw the ugly creature wrapped around the giant’s neck.
“But animals have never been allowed on this floor,” Dame Hilary persisted.
Reina shrugged. “Clydon has a new lord now. If he desires his pet in his chamber, who is to gainsay him?”
“You are, my lady.”
My, what confidence they had in her. If they could have seen how hastily she had scurried off to collect them for the bedding, they would not be so quick to think she could get rid of one scrawny cat. Of course, it might be called the lord’s chamber, but the sleeping quarters were traditionally the lady’s domain. She would have a say about whom she shared those quarters with—aside from her lord, that is.
Thinking of him and how flustered he had made her with his growled order to get herself to bed, she told Dame Florette, “Take it to the kitchen for some warm milk.” Then, thinking how the cook would not appreciate that, she added, “Explain to the kitchen staff who it belongs to, so they do not chase it out to the stables.”
“Does it bite?” the young widow asked warily.
Hilary picked Lady Ella up by the scruff of her neck and shoved her at Florette. “If it does, bite it back.”
That brought a round of laughter, and Reina’s nervousness eased somewhat as she joined in. She had already experienced the first bedding, which was the worst, so she had no real reason to be nervous now—yet she was. Mayhap she should not have ordered her husband’s wine watered down so much that it was nigh colored water. He might have enjoyed himself more if he were a little drunk, and not rushed her up here. Mayhap she should not have teased him today either. His behavior had been strange all day, waxing between bemusement and plain sourness, no mood to take teasing in fun, as it was meant.
What could she expect from a sober, disgruntled giant? Rough and quick again? Or rough and long?Jesú, she must have been mad to bring this on herself! Or mayhap there would be no bedding at all?
That thought brightened her considerably. After all, she had told him about the vial of “blood” for the wedding sheets, which Theo had earlier hidden in here. Ranulf did not have to bed her simply because everyone in Clydon expected him to. And he had only said he wanted the formalities over with, not that he meant to…
She had worked herself into full nervousness again, but as that was the expected state for her to be in, it did not draw comment other than the normal gentle teasing and ribaldry suited to the occasion.
She remained silent while her clothes were carefully removed and put away in the aumbry, but seeing the white, silver-threaded chemise in Hilary’s hands reminded her that her husband had not even mentioned his new clothes. Her ladies had worked long hours at her behest to finish his mantle and chausses in time. She herself had sewn his tunic to match her own clothing from an extra bolt of the precious sendal she had been saving. Though why she had bothered she did not know, and was not likely to do so again when the man showed such little appreciation.
Yet he had looked fine, so fine. Did she really need to hear his thanks when she had felt so proud on first sight of him in his splendid attire?
She sighed, then recalled where she was and blushed. But no one had heard her. The women were too busy giggling at each other’s jests.
Lady Margaret produced a comb and began stroking it through Reina’s long hair, but after a moment they heard the men coming, and Reina was quickly put into bed. There she was to sit waiting like the sacrificial virgin on the altar, which was just how she felt.
If anyone had thought Ranulf would be carried over the threshold on the shoulders of his merry escort, as was usually the case, Reina could have told them ’twas not likely to happen. Who could lift him? And no one tried. But if Reina had known he led the pack himself up the narrow stairwell, her fear would have increased tenfold.
The ribaldry continued, now more coarse with the men’s arrival. Reina refused to listen, or watch as Walter dared to wrest Ranulf’s tunic from him. She concentrated on the hunt she had planned for the morrow; on what to prepare for dinner if at least half the guests stayed on another full day, which was likely; on the visit she owed the village to tend its ills, which she had neglected these past days. She dredged up anything likely to distract her, and then the door closed, breaking her concentration, and she swallowed, with difficulty, to see she was alone with her husband.
Hehad closed the door, and he wasted no time in coming directly to the bed. He still wore his braies and chausses, though nothing else. Reina held her breath. Was he going to jump on her again? Nay, not this time. He yanked the covers away from her instead.
She gasped, though it was a tiny sound only she heard. He was staring at her body so intently the roof could have fallen on his head and he would not have known it. She still was not breathing, afraid to move, afraid to cover herself even with her hands, afraid of what he would do next, this unpredictable giant she had married.
“So ’twas no dream,” he said.
Her eyes moved warily up to meet his, which were darkened now to indigo. He seemed surprised by whatever he had discovered, and there was some other emotion there she was not quite sure of.
“Is that good—or bad?”
Ranulf only grunted in response. She wanted compliments after all she had put him through? She had best not hold her breath waiting. But Christ’s toes, he was glad it hadnotbeen a dream he had carried in his mind these past few days.
He remembered clearly now her standing in the center of his bed in her short linen shift, looking like a little Valkyrie about to do battle with him. He had been fired with lust again, just as he had been earlier that day when he had seen her astride that horse. But her body stripped bare! Who would have thought the woman hid such a perfect form beneath her clothing? She might be small of stature, but no limb was too long or short, every part of her shaped just right.
He wanted to just stand there and look at her. He wanted to plunge right into her. It was vexing that he could not do both at once, but at least he knew he could not. Last time he was not sure of anything, even doubting that there had been a last time. This time his lust was no less rampant, but he had control of it—he hoped he had control of it. Christ’s toes, would he always find himself at a disadvantage with this lady?
