This physical pleasure, astonishing as it was, was only the beginning of what he needed from her.
Chapter Twelve
For the first time in his life, William dreaded going to war. He did not want to be away from Catherine for a single night.
For now, King Henry and the prince were busy sweeping up the last remnants of the rebellion in the North. The Welsh had been quiet since their losses at Grosmont and Pwll Melyn in the spring. The lull in the fighting, however, would not last.
Soon, he would be off fighting the Welsh. Perhaps the French as well. Once the fighting began again, he might be gone for weeks. He tried not to think of it.
Still, he worked his men hard to keep their skills sharp so they would be prepared. He had only to catch a glimpse of Catherine, though, to be distracted. If she walked into the hall while he was talking with his men or crossed the bailey yard while they practiced with their weapons, he would stop in place and watch her until she passed from sight.
His men were amused by the change in him. They had always respected him as a sure and talented commander, a skilled fighter, a man who kept his word. But they had never been at ease with him before. Now he laughed at jokes they would never have told him before. They even teased him about the cause of the new lightness in his step.
To a man, they were green with envy when Catherine left the hall on his arm each night. Truth be told, he suspected they were all a little in love with her. Even so, they were all pleased for him.
All, that is, save for Edmund Forrester.
Edmund warned him to watch for the betrayal he was sure would come.
The next weeks passed in a blur of happiness for Catherine. She and William could not wait for night to come. As often as he could, he slipped away for an hour or two in the middle of the day to whisk her off to their rooms.
Jamie adored William and followed him around like a puppy. Every time she heard Jamie squeal with delight as William swung the boy onto his shoulders, she thanked God for her blessings. She would not have dared hope for so much only a few weeks before.
There was just one mar on her happiness: Her husband still did not trust her. Edmund’s goading bothered her even more now that she bared her own soul to William every night.
“William, you have never told me about your family or your home in the North,” she said as they lay in bed.
They had come to bed early, as had become their habit, and spent themselves making love. The summer evening sky was still light enough for her to see the outline of his strong features.
She decided that if he trusted her enough to share his secret with her, she would tell him about Edmund’s behavior. She could be sure then that he would believe her.
She propped herself up on one elbow and rested her hand on his bare chest. “I want to know everything.”
“Everything?” He waggled his eyebrows, trying to make a joke of it. “All the women as well?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Just the ugly ones.”
He laughed and kissed her.
“Stop it!” she said between kisses. “You are trying to divert me.”
He rolled her onto her back and pressed his erection against her hip. “Tell me I am succeeding.”
He trailed kisses down her neck. When she gave in, she did so wholeheartedly.
She did not, however, forget her question. The next morning, she grabbed his arm as he was slipping out of bed.
“Why will you not tell me?”
“Tell you what?” he said, pretending not to understand.
“About your family.”
“Must you badger me about this, woman?”
Hurt, she released his arm and said nothing more.
William began to dress. The silence was strained, but she was not going to be the one to break it. William picked up his boots and sat down to put them on.
