“Where is Jamie?” he asked Catherine as he stabbed a hunk of roasted pork.
“He was worn out from trying to keep up with Stephen. His nursemaid took him up for a rest as soon as he finished eating.”
After William ate enough to take the edge off his hunger, he leaned forward to address Stephen, who sat on the other side of Catherine.
“So, how old are you, Stephen Carleton?”
“Twelve, sir.”
“Tell me, what is Lady Eleanor’s intent in sending you here?” He pointed his eating knife at the boy. “I want to hear both what she told you and what you believe is her true purpose.”
The boy raised his eyebrows in a manner so reminiscent of their mother that William could not keep the sarcastic edge from his voice. “You cannot have lived with her for twelve years and not know the two are different.”
Stephen paused as if considering his answer, then said, “Mother said it was past time we knew each other.” After a quick sideways glance at Catherine, he added, “And she wants me to tell her of your new wife.”
Catherine gave the boy a reassuring smile and patted his arm.
“I believe she spoke the truth,” Stephen said. “But those were not her only reasons.”
“What else does she want?” William asked.
“Although she said this was a visit, I believe she intends for you to take me into your household.” Stephen shrugged his shoulder. “You are the only one of us in the king’s good graces.”
That rang true. But William sensed the boy was holding something back. “Tell me. Out with it now.”
“ ’Tis possible she wants you to arrange a marriage for me,” the boy said, blushing furiously. “Not that she would wish me to marry now, but she wants a betrothal.”
Stephen looked pained. “She gave me a letter for you. I expect she instructs—ah, asks—you to use your influence to get me betrothed to a wealthy heiress.”
William could not help but feel some sympathy for the boy. With both him and John beyond her reach, their mother’s ambition would all fall on her youngest. The woman could be relentless.
“I appreciate your candor,” William said. “You are not as much like our mother as you look.”
William took a drink of wine, then asked, “So tell me, Stephen Carleton, is wealth all you want in a wife?”
“Not all,” the boy mumbled, giving Catherine a furtive glance. He colored again and fixed his eyes on the table.
William rubbed his hands over his face. He had not seen this young brother since Stephen had been a babe—and not for long then. Truth be told, he’d forgotten all about him. Now that the lad was here, what was he going to do with him? Should he send him back? Leave him at the mercy of their mother?
He would have to think on it long and hard.
“You can stay until I decide what to do with you,” he said, and stood up. “Now I must speak with my wife.”
“I have matters to report to you, things you must hear,” Edmund said, also rising.
“All seems safe and sound, Edmund. I will find you later,” William said, keeping his eyes on Catherine. “Come, m’lady wife,” he said, offering her his hand.
As soon as they were out the doorway, he pulled her around the corner. He kissed her long and hard, not caring if a passing servant saw them.
When he moved his hand to her breast, she said, “Not here, William!”
He took her by the wrist and led her up the stairs to the solar. As soon as he closed the door, he had her up against it.
“It seems like three months, not three days,” he said amidst a frenzy of kisses.
He wanted to touch her everywhere at once. With a hunger of her own, she met him kiss for kiss and touch for touch. Her little moans of pleasure increased the urgency of his desire. Unfastening the endless line of buttons was beyond him. He sucked on her breast through the bodice of her gown until he felt her nipple harden through the layers of cloth.
His cock was so hard it pained him. He would die if he didn’t have her soon.
