‘That is no reason for you to come here alone.’
‘Well, if you would speak to me in the hall instead of ignoring me, I would not have to resort to doing so!’
Throwing down the curry comb, he moved away from the stallion and went to pick up his tunic from the hay pile at the far side of the stall.
‘Just what game are you playing with me?’ he demanded.
‘I am not playing games!’
‘Then what is it you want of me, mistress? Let us have done with this charade once and for all.’
She came and stood before him, as close as she had done after the alms-giving. ‘They want to send me away to Gascony to marry, and I do not wish to go. It is not right that I should make my vows and pledge my faith to someone I have never seen and do not know. What am I to do?’
‘Your duty, as we all must,’ Thomas said curtly. ‘It has ever been thus.’
‘But it shouldn’t be. It is neither right nor fair. I won’t let them; I swear I will not. I would rather die!’ She closed the last fraction of space between them and put her arms around his neck. ‘I know what I want!’
He knew he should push her away, but their bodies were pressed so close. He could feel the line of thigh and waist, her breasts round and firm, and he knew she must be very aware of his own response to such stimulation. ‘In God’s name . . .’
‘Would you marry me, Thomas?’ she asked. ‘Would you give me your name?’ She raised her face to his.
He gave up the unequal struggle and ceased to think. He did not know if this was part of her game, or for real, but the use of his name, the look on her face, her question, tipped him over the edge, and he kissed her. She made a small kitten sound in her throat and pushed up against him.
The pile of hay in the corner where he had tossed his tunic and cloak now became a place to lie down with her, prickly soft and fragrantly scented. A time-honoured bed for tumbling. Her arms gripped him fiercely, and when he lay over her she moaned and arched her spine. She was innocent, but she was knowing, and made no effort to stop him when he pushed up her skirts. Her legs were long and shapely, and the soft space between her thighs was thatched with crisp gold. He closed his eyes and started to draw back, but she urged him on fiercely. Digging her fingers into his arms. He was desperate, straining, and she was desperate too, her hips making small, needy undulations.
‘Oh God,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t stop.’
Gasping, he freed himself and pushed into her in a single thrust as if he was meeting an opponent on the tourney field. She wriggled and cried out, but he was beyond anything but the feel of being inside her. It was like charging down the tilt, fullycommitted. So close, so close. Within seconds he was finished, and the sensation was so swift, so strong, that it was an instinct more than a pleasure, but such a blessed relief that he could only gasp like a landed fish as the sensations continued to flicker, and eventually fade.
Beneath him, she made small, distressed sounds, and as he came to himself he was shocked and ashamed. But even as he diminished within her, he still wanted her. Slowly he eased from her body and covered himself. She sat up and folded her arms around her waist, her head bent, and his feelings of guilt increased fourfold.
‘I do not know what to say,’ he said, ‘except that this should never have happened, and I am sorry.’
She shook her head and finally looked at him. ‘I wanted this, and I should thank you,’ she said. ‘Now I know what to expect when I go to a husband. It is not so bad, for at least it is swiftly done.’
His guilt thickened, and he even, appallingly, felt an edge of anger towards her because she had pushed him first. ‘You were as eager as I was – I believed you were with me.’
She gave him a baffled, wary look. ‘I was with you,’ she replied, ‘but you had forgotten me. I did not expect . . . I did not know it would be so . . .’ She swallowed and swiped at her eyes, before scrambling to her feet. ‘I must go. Hawise will come looking for me, and if anyone finds out, they will kill you.’ Her voice was breathless with the effort of holding back tears.
He dragged on his tunic and stood up. ‘I have despoiled you,’ he said, and drew her back into his arms. ‘We cannot leave it like this. We need to talk; we need to decide what to do. The King entrusted me to protect you, and I have done the opposite, and I am sorry.’
‘Well, I am not,’ she said fiercely. ‘I am glad it happened. If you are not, there is nothing more to say. You said yesterday thatit was what lay underneath that mattered – and you were right!’ Wrenching away from him, she ran out of the stable towards the mews.
Thomas groaned and palmed his face and acknowledged to himself that it had happened because she had wanted it to happen more than he had wanted to stop, and he was the more culpable because he had the experience to know better and be accountable. But done was done and now he must deal with it, even if it meant his death. He was already dishonoured.
Having made sure the stallion was secure, he left at a brisk walk for the mews, not knowing what he was going to say to her. But he was too late. Jeanette and her maid had gone.
Jeanette drew the curtain across her bed space, sat down on her mattress and hugged herself, overwhelmed. Her virginity was gone and she was sore between her legs. She had thought she knew what to expect, but it wasn’t this. The experience had been as swift as a stallion with a mare in the breeding pen. When she had gone to him, she had intended that it might happen and that it would be a lever if necessary to cast doubt on her proposed marriage to Armand d’Albret. She had imagined too how it might be in the moment if she gave free rein to all the lovely, melting feelings inside her when she thought of Thomas in bed at night. But imagining was not the same as encountering the visceral reality.
With shaking fingers, she removed her gown and chemise, the latter smeared with tell-tale blood-stains. She was pulling on a clean chemise when Hawise returned from hanging up their cloaks.
The maid’s eyes widened and she put her hand over her mouth.
Jeanette handed her the stained chemise. ‘Do something with this. No one must know.’
‘Indeed not!’ Hawise was swift to understand the situation through her shock. ‘I shall scrub this myself in cold water and salt.’ She set the bundle to one side and quickly helped Jeanette into clean garments and tidied her hair. ‘Mistress, what happened? Did he force you? I thought you were upset when you came to the mews.’
Jeanette shook her head. ‘I knew exactly what I was doing – indeed I pushed him into it . . . but now . . .’ Her chin wobbled.
