Julie Garwood - [3 Book Box Set] (36 page)

Geoffrey buried his head in Elizabeth’s shoulder and sighed with contentment. She echoed the sound, holding him close to her, embracing his weight.

Geoffrey shifted his weight, holding her in his arms. He kissed her cheeks, nuzzled against her ear, and whispered outrageous compliments and promises that brought a blush to his wife’s face.

“When did you realize that you loved me?” Elizabeth asked, stroking the line of his jaw with one fingertip. “Was it when you thought me drowned?”

Geoffrey chuckled and shook his head. “I was too angry to think of love then,” he admitted. He rolled onto his back, letting Elizabeth prop her head with elbows braced against his massive chest, and then continued, “Warriors do not record such facts in their heads. When I decided I loved you is not significant,” he teased.

Elizabeth smiled. The golden chips in his dark gaze fascinated her. How had she ever thought him cold and unbending? she found herself asking.

“When did you realize that you loved me?” he countered. His hands began to gently knead the curves of her bottom as he waited for her answer.

“I do not remember,” Elizabeth said. The sparkle was back in her eyes, and Geoffrey found himself grinning, knowing that she was about to tease him yet again. “Wives of warriors do not record such facts in their heads,” she giggled. “Besides, when is not significant.”

Geoffrey gave her a playful squeeze. “Ever you would tease, wife. I will put up with your silliness for the rest of our days together, for I love you with my heart.”

“I thought I would never hear you say the words,” Elizabeth whispered. The smile left her and she leaned down and kissed him.

“I had some foolish ideas of love,” Geoffrey replied when the kiss ended. “I thought it would weaken me
and now know how wrong I was. You give me new strength of purpose, Elizabeth. A part of me longs to lock you away in our bedroom and share you with no one else.”

“I will always belong to you, Geoffrey,” Elizabeth answered.

“I know that is true,” Geoffrey said. “And I will have faith and confidence in your loyalty to me. Would you believe that I find it difficult to share you even with your grandfather and your brother? I used to scoff at men who let jealousy take control of their lives, and now find that if I am not careful, I too will be ruled by it.”

Elizabeth’s eyes showed her surprise and Geoffrey grinned again. “I have not had the closeness of family like you have,” he explained, “and I would know that I come before all others.”

“There are all kinds of love,” Elizabeth answered, her voice soft. Her husband was letting her see his vulnerability, and she knew in her heart that she would cherish this moment for the rest of her life. “What I feel for my grandfather and for little Thomas is a different sort of love than what I feel for you. In time I think you will love them as much as I do, and in just the same way. What I feel for them does not take away what I feel for you.”

Geoffrey pulled her down and kissed her for a long, breathless moment. Elizabeth clung to him, matching his passion and hunger.

With regret, Geoffrey finally pulled away. “It grows dark,” he said. “Hurry and dress so that I can take you back to our tent and undress you once again.” He gave her a sound slap on her backside and chuckled at her pretended outrage.

Neither spoke a word until they were headed back toward the camp. And then Elizabeth spoke, her voice as soft as the rustle of the leaves underfoot. “You are truly jealous of my family?” she asked.

“I will get over it,” Geoffrey answered, squeezing her hand. “ A knight is loyal and vows fealty to only one overlord, as I have, with William, my king,” he began. “You have committed yourself to me,” he continued, “and I do not expect you to stop loving your family because you love me. Yet I would know that I am first in your heart and that you would choose me above all others, as I would choose you.”

Elizabeth covered her smile. She understood that falling in love was new to her husband and that he was trying to deal with it as he would everything else in his life. He was trying to give it order and a proper place. His mistake was in using logic as his tool to deal with his emotions.

“There would never be a time that I would have to choose between you or my. . . “ Elizabeth was going to say
family,
but quickly substituted the word
relatives.
“You are my family now, Geoffrey, just as I am your family. And Elslow and Thomas . . . they are our relatives. We all belong to each other, but not as vassals and lords.”

“You are right, Elizabeth. You will never have to make a choice,” Geoffrey said. “I would not allow it. Nor would I ever demand such a test of your loyalty, for I begin to understand your reasoning. I love you, and that is all that matters.”

“Were you still so unsure of my loyalty to you that you left Elslow with Thomas at Montwright?”

“I wanted to have you all to myself for a time,” Geoffrey admitted.

Elizabeth leaned against her husband’s side and thought about his words. He had shared his inner feelings with her this evening, and there was joy and love in her heart. He had come a long way, learning to show affection and voicing his thoughts to her, and Elizabeth was content. There was still a small distance to go, she realized, for Geoffrey remained unsure and (though she would never say the word) insecure. Soon
this too would change, and talk of tests and making choices would cease. No one would ever ask such a terrible thing. No one.

Elizabeth dreamed that night, and it began in a most pleasant way. She was dressed all in white, in a gown that seemed to float around her ankles. She was walking through the bailey of a great palace and a fine mist covered the ground. She was smiling as she opened the doors and walked into a great hall. And then the dream changed to a nightmare. Someone was calling her, but she did not know who. Her pulse quickened with the horrible sound of agony and despair in the voice calling to her. She hurried, searching for the voice, pushing through a crowd of laughing men who seemed not to know that she was even there. When she reached the very center of the room, she stopped. A scream filled her lungs. Standing before her was her husband, his hands and feet chained with heavy steel links. He did not see her and was looking toward the other side of the room. Elizabeth turned and saw her grandfather, also chained.

The voice began again, but the sound had turned from agony to triumph. It was Belwain. The mist at her feet turned red, and in the nightmare Elizabeth knew it was a symbol of the blood that would soon be shed.

Belwain lifted his hand and pointed at her. “You will choose and one will die. And if you will not choose, then both will be killed.” He laughed then, an evil devil’s laughter that clawed at Elizabeth’s soul.

She shook her head, denying what was asked, and Belwain pulled Geoffrey’s sword and lifted it high into the air.

Her screams woke Geoffrey. He reached for his sword and then realized that Elizabeth was right beside him. His hands shook as he pulled his wife into his arms and gently rocked her against him. “Open your eyes,
Elizabeth. It is only a nightmare,” he whispered, again and again. “I am here.”

Elizabeth awoke with a start. She clutched at Geoffrey’s shoulders and took great gulps of air, trying to calm her heart. “It was terrible,” she whispered.

“Do not speak of it,” Geoffrey soothed. He tenderly brushed the hair from her forehead and kissed her. “You have been dreaming, that is all. The pace was too fast for you today and you are overly tired. Rest your head against me and close your eyes. All is well.”

“I am afraid,” she told him. “If I sleep, I will have the nightmare again.”

“No, you will not,” Geoffrey whispered. He shifted positions, until Elizabeth was beneath him. His arms bore his weight, anchored on either side of his wife. “You will dream only of making love to me,” he vowed. With those words spoken, Geoffrey leaned down and kissed Elizabeth.

He murmured words of love with a velvet voice and soothing hands that turned Elizabeth’s thoughts only to him and what he was doing to her. The nightmare was forgotten.

E
LIZABETH ADJUSTED TO HER NEW HOME WITH VERY
little difficulty. When she first sighted Geoffrey’s do-main, she was overwhelmed by the massive structures and the giant wall surrounding them. The stone fortress was so large that it made Montwright seem puny in comparison.

Yet once inside the walls, a cold starkness prevailed and Elizabeth found it most unsettling. She quickly set about making her mark on both the inside of the castle and the inner bailey. Geoffrey let her have her way, though he did a fair amount of balking when he found her on her knees, transplanting wildflowers the colors of the rainbow, along the castle walls. Elizabeth ignored his mock anger with teasing replies that totally undermined her husband’s thoughts.

The servants, at first suspicious and frigid toward
their new mistress, soon melted under her gentle smiles and softly spoken requests. They soon became her champions and eagerly awaited her next order of change. Fresh flowers adorned the tables, and bright colorful banners, carried from Montwright, graced the newly washed stone walls of the castle. Peace and contentment replaced the bleak starkness. The inhabitants of Berkley Castle were in awe. Their fortress had become a home.

By the end of July, Elizabeth was certain that she carried Geoffrey’s child. She cherished the news and took several days rehearsing and planning in her mind just how she would tell Geoffrey. He would be pleased and probably act most arrogant, Elizabeth decided, and that would please her.

Elizabeth sat at the dinner table, awaiting Geoffrey. She had decided that she would share her news with him this evening, when they were alone in their bedroom. She could barely contain her excitement and found herself laughing out loud. The servants tending to the table gave her puzzled looks, and Elizabeth knew she was acting quite strange. Tomorrow, after Geoffrey had received the news, she would explain her odd behavior, and they would understand.

The soldiers began to file into the hall, and Elizabeth straightened her position, eagerly looking for Geoffrey. The squire Gerald drew her attention. He raced around two burly men and hurried over to his mistress. “Messengers have arrived from William,” he all but shouted. “They would speak with my lord as soon as possible.”

Elizabeth frowned over this information and then said, “Show them into the hall, Gerald. I will tell Roger and he will find Geoffrey.”

Roger was already walking toward Elizabeth and she gave him a greeting before telling him about the messengers. “Why are they here?” she asked, unable to keep the worry out of her voice.

“It is not unusual,” Roger answered. “Ah, here is your husband. He will tell you the reasons.”

“You have no greeting for me?” Geoffrey said when he reached Elizabeth’s side.

Elizabeth immediately smiled and reached up to place a chaste kiss on her husband’s cheek. “I seem to remember a time when showing affection was not allowed,” she said in a whisper.

Geoffrey laughed and pulled his wife into his arms.

“That was before I realized how important it was for you to touch me,” he teased.

“I am most undisciplined,” Elizabeth responded with a grin.

“Geoffrey,” Roger interrupted, “there are messengers from William. They await you in the corridor.”

Geoffrey nodded, seemingly undisturbed by this information. “I thought that our king was still in Rouen,” he replied.

“He must have only just returned,” Roger commented.

Geoffrey turned back to his wife and said, “Begin the meal without me so that my men can eat. Roger and I will see what news the king sends us.”

Elizabeth wished to listen to the messengers too, but realized that it was not her place to ask. She would have to wait and hear the news from her husband. Geoffrey had begun to confide in Elizabeth more and more, and she had no doubt that he would tell her what their king requested.

Father Hargrave, a visiting priest from nearby North-castle, entered the room. He offered Elizabeth his arm just as Geoffrey was leaving. She assumed her role as hostess and gave the elderly priest her full attention.

Elizabeth sat beside him at the table and bowed her head while he gave the blessing, trying to concentrate on his prayer. Her mind kept returning to the messengers, speculating on various reasons why the king
would send word to them, and finding none acceptable. Geoffrey had already given his required number of days’ duty to his lord. William held court only three times during the year, and Geoffrey had attended those sessions also.

Perhaps it was the Domesday Book, she considered, referring to William’s accounting of the number of subjects under his jurisdiction. Because the record included each person’s worth, from the number of animals to the amount of coin each held, his loyal subjects grumbled among themselves and called the record the Domesday Book. Their logic was simple and, in Elizabeth’s estimation, probably quite accurate. Once the king had a true accounting of each person’s worth, the taxes would be raised. It was an age-old problem, this raising of taxes, Elizabeth knew, for she had heard her father balk about the unfairness of the system more than once.

Geoffrey and Roger returned to the hall just as the meal was served. From the looks on their faces, Elizabeth knew that they were not pleased with the news. “It is the Domesday Book?” she whispered to Geoffrey when he was seated at the head of the table.

Geoffrey took hold of Elizabeth’s hand but did not answer her. She looked across the table and smiled at Roger. Elizabeth always sat on her husband’s right and Roger always sat on Geoffrey’s left.

One of Geoffrey’s squires began to serve the meat and Geoffrey spoke a few words to the young boy. Elizabeth took advantage of his inattention and leaned toward Roger. “It is the Domesday Book?” she asked, hoping Roger would give her a quick reply.

Geoffrey gave Elizabeth’s hand a quick squeeze. Roger looked like he was about to answer Elizabeth, but Geoffrey’s small shake of his head stopped his action. Elizabeth saw Geoffrey’s motion out of the corner of her eye.