A Dangerous Love (20 page)

Read A Dangerous Love Online

Authors: Bertrice Small

BOOK: A Dangerous Love
6.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“But I could not really like him or the queen. Both are totally self-involved. The king indulges himself shamelessly with women and rich living. The queen’s only interests lie in advancing the members of her family. They bred their children like a litter of puppies, and afterward ignore them, believing their duty done. Were it not for Lady Margaret Beaufort we children would have been lost. It was she who provided us with a structured life. She who taught us our manners, our faith, and our morals. She saw that we were educated as befitting our station as the king’s children. And never once did she mistreat me or differentiate between me and my half siblings. She is a good woman, Andrew.”

“Yet you ran away from court,” he said. “Why?”

“I have always felt my duty was to the king, but my second duty was to Stanton. I did not want to be treated like a possession to be disposed of by the king. And that is how he treated me. I tried to reason with him, but he would not listen. The Lancasters wanted a king’s daugh
ter for one of their own, and I am the king’s daughter.

But as I am bastard-born and not considered important, I was the one chosen for FitzTudor, who had also been born on the wrong side of the blanket, but dearly loved by his father. And because I brought my husband a title, the Earl of Pembroke could not be insulted or dissatisfied. It was cleverly thought out but for one thing: No one thought to consider how I would feel, being saddled with a husband I did not want.”

“Yet this is how marriages among our class are arranged, Adair. Wealth and the advantages to both parties are the deciding factors in arranging matches among our kind. The duke arranged our union, and you agreed. Why?”

“Because I know I must have a husband, for even I am not foolish enough to believe I could hold Stanton alone against the Scots,” Adair told him frankly. “And as your grandsire pointed out, our families have intermarried before, and we are neighbors.
And
I know you, Andrew, and you know me. You were willing to have me, weren’t you? And not just because Uncle Dickon asked you.”

He smiled to himself in the dim light. “You know I planned to come courting you, Adair,” he said softly, and he kissed her brow. “I did not know when I first met you that you were the Countess of Stanton, and that your husband would be the earl. But you were the fairest lass I had ever seen, and I wanted you. I still do.

But had this not been so I would have done the duke’s bidding, for I owe him my loyalty, having served him before. You should understand that I am a man who does what must be done.”

She was silent now.

The fire crackled in the hearth, and there was the faint sound of wind beyond the closed draperies. He shifted their bodies so that she now lay on her back.

Raising himself up on an elbow he slowly drew the coverlet back, revealing her nakedness. She had perfectly 
round little breasts, each topped with a cherry of a nipple. Looking down on them he felt a distinct tightening in his groin. Andrew swallowed softly and let his eyes meander down her body. Her waist was narrow and her torso long. Her hips and thighs were shapely. Her Venus mons was plump, pink, and smooth, for a lady of the court, he knew, would have been taught to pluck the hairs from it, as was fashionable. She had dainty feet.

Each foot was slender with a high arch. Her body was every bit as fair as her face, and Andrew found he was having difficulty looking away.

“Am I pleasing to you?” her voice inquired softly.

“Aye, most pleasing,” he told her.

“I have heard it said that men like to touch women’s breasts,” Adair said. “Would it please you to touch mine?”

“Aye.” He nodded, reaching out and cupping the rounded flesh in his hand. It nestled in his palm like a small dove. He fondled it, and heard her indrawn breath. The ball of his thumb rubbed at the nipple, and he watched as Adair’s eyes grew wide. “My touch should give you pleasure,” he said, and, lowering his dark head, he kissed the nipple.

“Oh yes!”
Adair replied breathlessly as his mouth closed over that nipple and began to gently suckle on it.


Yes!”

Raising his head as he released the nipple, he said softly, “I need very much to kiss you, Adair.” And his mouth closed swiftly over hers. The lips beneath his were sweet, and they softened beneath his as she attempted to follow his lead. He coaxed her to caress his tongue with hers, which she did shyly, shivering at first contact. And when he had decided that she had had enough, he drew her into his arms again, holding her close.

“Why do you not just mount me, and have done with it?” Adair asked him.

“Did you not enjoy the kissing?” he responded.

“Aye, but you have not answered my question,” she said.

“Animals mount one another when they breed. There is no emotion to it. Their need to fuck is pure instinct,”

he began. “But we are not animals, Adair. I want to enjoy possessing you, and I want you to gain pleasure from it too. Therefore we prepare each other with kisses and caresses.”

“Oh,” she responded. “I may touch you then?”

“Aye,” he said. “I should like it if you did.” He rolled onto his back.

Adair now raised herself up. Her small hand

reached out to touch his chest. “You are smooth,” she noted. “I have seen men in the fields with furred torsos. I like this better.” Her hand brushed over his skin.

“And you have nipples, but mine are nicer, I think, and I will suckle our children with them.” The little hand moved boldly to his belly. “You are very flat here.” The hand reached farther to touch his muscled thigh.

“What is this?” she asked him, running a finger over a slightly raised scar.

“An old battle wound. I received it in my first engage-ment,” he replied.

“You are very furry here,” she said, fingers ruffling through the black curls surrounding his manhood.

“Why do you not pluck?”

Andrew gritted his teeth. “Men do not,” he answered her slowly.
Jesu!
Did she know nothing about a man’s body? He struggled to control himself, but he could not, and when her slender finger closed around him he groaned.

She released him quickly. “Am I hurting you? I did not mean to hurt you. ’Tis the manroot, is it not? It seemed of a moderate size before, but now it seems to be growing much bigger.”

“Hold it in your hand,” he ground out harshly.

Adair wrapped her fingers against the column of lengthening and burgeoning flesh. It was warm in her 
grasp, and she thought she could detect a faint throbbing.

“You are not hurting me, lovey. You are giving me pleasure,” he told her.

“I have heard it said that the manroot is inserted into the woman’s body,” Adair said. “How is it done? Will you do it soon?”

“Lie upon your back again,” he responded, and when she had complied he ran his hand down her torso, her belly, and placed it for a brief moment over her mons.

He could sense the heat emanating from the plump flesh. Adair was too innocent to realize that she was being aroused, and readied for the pleasures they would soon share. He ran a finger down the shadowed slit, pushing gently past her nether lips. Then he smiled, feeling that she was already moistening.

“Wh-what are you doing?” her young voice 
quavered.

“Giving you the answers you seek,” he said, his finger finding that little nub of flesh known as the seed of desire. He rubbed it, and she gasped with surprise as a sudden longing for something she had never before experienced shot through her. The finger kept chafing and fretting her until she was whimpering with her need. But a need for what? She didn’t know, and she didn’t understand. But she wanted it. Her flesh tingled, and suddenly it felt as if it were bursting, and relief poured over her as she sighed.

Andrew laughed low. “Did you like that?’ he asked her.

“Aye,” she finally managed to gasp. “But you still haven’t answered my question, my lord husband.”

In reply he moved the finger past the seed of desire and began to slowly push it into her female sheath.

“Here,” he murmured against her fragrant dark hair.

“The manroot goes in here, Adair.” He moved the finger back and forth sensuously, pleased to find her maiden’s shield intact. His bride was indeed a virgin.

“You are too big to go there,” she replied weakly, her head beginning to spin.

Andrew kissed her lips. “No, I am not too big to fit you, lovey, as you will soon see. Now open yourself to me.” He did not wait, but rather gently, yet firmly, pushed her thighs apart as he slid between them. His manhood was as hard as iron, and his heart was beating swiftly and loudly in his ears as he began to press forward.

Adair had not thought to be afraid, but she was. Eyes wide, she watched as he slowly began to insert the thick peg of flesh into her body. How could anything like this give pleasure? she wondered. Her body was being invaded and pried open to satisfy his lust. He moved farther into her, and to her surprise Adair felt her body seemingly opening to accommodate him. Then she gasped and cried out in pain as the tip of his manroot began to press against something within her. “Please stop!” she pleaded with him. “Oh, please stop! It hurts!

It hurts!

He drew back, to her relief, but then his manhood plunged forward, and Adair screamed as he seemed to fill her. “The pain will ease! The pain will ease,” he assured her. “It was your maidenhead, lovey. I am sorry.

There is only pain the first time. I swear it.” Then he began to move on her again.

Adair sobbed as he did. But the burning was subsiding as quickly as the pain had burst forth to engulf her.

Her husband was groaning as he labored over her body.

And then he cried out, and she felt the manhood quiver as his juices flooded her. When he collapsed atop her, Adair instinctively put her arms about him in a gesture of comfort. He lay atop her for several minutes, and then Andrew rolled off of her, breathing heavily.

“Why didn’t you tell me of the pain?” she asked him.

“You would have been more frightened than you were,” he replied.

“I was not afraid!” Adair denied.

“Aye, you were,” he said. “But the deed needed to be done, and now my grandsire will leave Stanton content with us both.”

“There was no pleasure,” she said. “You promised me pleasure.”

“You will have it the next time,” he assured her. “You were fearful, and your deflowering was painful, for you were a true virgin. It would have been unusual for you to gain pleasure from our first coupling, Adair.”

“When will we do it again?” she wanted to know.

He chuckled. “So you are brave enough to try again, are you?” He looked down at her and brushed a strand of her black hair from her face.

“Aye, I am,” she said.

“Not tonight,” he told her. “You will be sore, but Elsbeth will know how to care for you on the morrow. And when you tell me you are ready we will couple again, Adair. And next time I will strive to see that you have much pleasure. Now go to sleep, lovey. We’ll have to face the old man soon enough.”

“I think I will be happy with you, my lord,” Adair told him, and he kissed her lips softly.

“Aye, I believe we can be happy with each other,” he agreed. And then he closed his eyes.

When the morning came Elsbeth awoke them. Andrew went to his own bedchamber next door, and found a man of middle years awaiting him.

“Good morning, my lord. I am Chilton, and it will be my duty to serve you.”

“I must get dressed,” Andrew said. “My grandsire and my brother will want to leave this morning, and they cannot go until the lady and I have bid them farewell.”

“I have water ready, my lord,” Chilton replied. He was of medium height, with brown eyes and a bald pate.

The young earl already sensed that Albert had chosen well.

Next door, Adair’s needs had been attended to by the faithful Elsbeth, and then the two women had stripped the bedsheet from the bed. Adair was shocked by the large stain, but Elsbeth smiled proudly.

“Well,” she said, “that should certainly satisfy the old dragon! His grandson did a fine job, and your innocence is there for all to see.”

“I do not think I can walk,” Adair complained. “I am too sore.”

“Nonsense!” Elsbeth said.

A discreet knock sounded upon the door connecting the two bedchambers, and Chilton’s head popped through. “If her ladyship is ready, his lordship is prepared to go down to the hall.”

“She’s ready,” Elsbeth said, and she gathered up the sheet, handing it to Adair. “You have to carry it,” she said. “And take it right to the old lord for his inspec-tion.”

Adair and Andrew met in the corridor outside the bedchambers, and together they descended. Entering the hall, Adair walked straight to Humphrey Lynbridge, who was standing at the large hearth. She flung the sheet open before him, her look a defiant one.

“There, my lord! You should be well satisfied,” she said.

The old man looked at the large brownish bloodstain on the sheet. Then he turned to his younger grandson.

“You have a mighty cock like me,” he said. “The stain on Allis and Robert’s sheet was but half this size. She screamed?”

“Aye,” the earl said tersely.

“Good! Now she’ll not forget who’s master in this house,” Lord Lynbridge remarked. He turned back to Adair. “You move gingerly, my lady Countess of Stanton,” he mocked her. “I am happy to see my grandson did his duty, and you yours. God bless you both!”

Adair was utterly speechless at his words. Finally she signaled to Albert to bring the morning meal. And when 
it had been consumed she and Andrew saw their guests off. And at last alone, the newlyweds began their life together. Andrew went off to the cattle barns, and Adair called for her writing box. She had much to write her half sister, Bessie. She wondered if she should tell her all, for one day Bessie would have to face a bridegroom.

It was unlikely the queen would explain what was necessary. But then Adair considered that Lady Margaret would never allow her charge to go to the marriage bed unprepared. Finding her writing box, she sat down to write her half sister the news of her marriage, and of how she believed that she had at last found happiness.

Other books

The Unknown Mr. Brown by Sara Seale
At the Highlander's Mercy by Terri Brisbin
Lacy Eye by Jessica Treadway
The Hunt for the Yeti Skull: Nepal by Elizabeth Singer Hunt
Death of a Nurse by M. C. Beaton
The Darkling Tide by Travis Simmons
Cargo of Orchids by Susan Musgrave
A Treacherous Paradise by Henning Mankell
In the Belly of Jonah by Brannan, Sandra
Already Home by Thompson, Vicki Lewis