Grasso, Patricia (28 page)

The Countess of Cheshire smiled at the heartwarming picture they made and brushed a drop of moisture from beneath her eyes. She heard restless murmurings behind her. The wedding guests were apparently wondering what was preventing the nobody-bride from running down the aisle to marry England's premier earl.

Turning toward the crowd, Lady Dawn spied Richard marching down the aisle to discover what had happened to his bride. The countess smiled inwardly to think that the rogue who'd broken so many hearts feared being jilted at the altar.

In spite of the sacred surroundings, Lady Dawn cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, "Patience, Devereux! Ludlow and his daughter are bidding each other a final farewell."

For his part, Richard gave no heed to the courtiers, friend and enemy alike, who were now laughing openly at his expense. Seeing his betrothed and her father locked in an embrace, Richard nodded toward the countess and then returned to his place at the altar.

Duke Robert finally set his daughter away from him and gave her an encouraging smile. Taking her hand in his, he guided her toward the head of the aisle.

Keely caught her first sight of the richly decorated Chapel Royal. A thousand candles lit the chapel, casting eerie shadows on its walls. Stars of gold, representing God's heavenly universe, adorned the domed sky-blue ceiling.

Keely dropped her gaze to the assembled crowd. A sea of faces stared curiously at her.

"I cannot do this, Papa," she whispered, her panic rising at the sight of all those potential enemies.

Duke Robert squeezed her hand gently. "You are more worthy and noble than a thousand of them combined," he said. At that, he started down the aisle, forcing her to either step with him or struggle for freedom.

At the end of the aisle stood the altar with its mahogany gates, through which Richard and she would pass to kneel in front of the Archbishop of Canterbury. Bouquets of flowers adorned the sanctuary, each one of them the love-in-a-mist that she had admired at the earl's.

Ignoring the stares of the courtiers, Keely slid her gaze to the incredibly handsome man who awaited her at the altar. Elegantly attired in a forest green doublet with matching pantaloons and hose, Richard again appeared like the pagan god of her dreams sprung to life—and he was smiling at her. His emerald gaze held the promise of love and gave her the courage to place one foot in front of the other until she reached his side.

Keely kissed both of her father's cheeks. Turning to the earl, she smiled and placed her hand in his, then heard the courtiers in the first few pews chuckling. Even the Archbishop of Canterbury smiled.

Richard grinned down at her. "I do believe tradition requires waiting for your father to give you away."

"Oh!" Keely crimsoned with embarrassment. Without thinking, she tried to pull away in order to start over.

"Don't you dare," Richard said, refusing to relinquish her hand. "I've got you now and will never let you go."

Much to Keely's relief, the Christian wedding ceremony lasted less than thirty minutes. The moment that would forever warm her heart happened when Richard slipped the wedding band of gold on her finger and promised in a husky voice,
"Por tous jours.
For always, dearest."

"Are you ready to begin your new life?" Richard whispered, before turning with her to be presented as man and wife to the Tudor court.

Keely nodded solemnly. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Love lit Richard's eyes with amusement. He planted a chaste kiss on her lips and answered, "I won't."

"Welcome to Our court, Lady Devereux." Queen Elizabeth stepped forward first to congratulate them. "Do you swear to be a loving, faithful, and obedient wife to Our dear Midas?"

Keely curtsied deeply and replied, "My vows of loving and faithfulness are registered in Heaven." She flicked a glance at her husband. "As for obedience, I can only try."

Keely looked at the bouquet of orange blossoms in her hand. Technically, her bridal privilege ended the moment she became a wife. On instinct, Keely offered the bouquet to the queen.

"Thank you, child," Elizabeth said, sincerely touched by her gesture. In a wistful voice heard only by Richard and Keely, she murmured, "Mayhap these bridal blossoms shall be the only ones I ever carry." Without another word, the queen whirled away and led the procession out of the Chapel Royal.

Inside Hampton Court's great hall, Keely sat between her husband and her father. Lady Dawn sat on the duke's left while the queen sat on Richard's right. Beyond Elizabeth were the Archbishop of Canterbury, Louise Devereux, and Uncle Hal. Morgana and Willis Smythe, much to their irritation, sat at a lower table along with Henry, who could not have cared less where he sat.

As tradition demanded, Richard fed Keely the requisite quince, which represented female fertility. She ate the yellow apple to the loud applause and wild cheering of the courtiers who'd begun drinking as soon as they'd entered the hall. Keely couldn't help wondering if the gleam in her husband's eyes meant he was in a hurry for an heir so that he could rush off to Ireland and begin his tour of duty.

The servants entered with course after course of their wedding feast, the likes of which Keely had never seen. All manner of fish arrived first, including salmon in wine sauce and her husband's Colchester mussels. Next came roasted pheasant, followed by a variety of meat dishes. There were braised sides of beef, broiled venison in pepper sauce, and pork roast with spiced wine. Cheshire cheeses, fruit pies, rose pudding, and pine nut candy arrived last, along with a spectacular wedding cake created in the image of two swans whose necks curved to form a heart shape.

"I do not see Odo and Hew," Keely whispered, leaning close to her husband.

"Your cousins sit in the rear of the hall," Richard replied.

"Who put my family in the back?" Keely glared at him.

"Sitting with May and June was their choice." Richard kissed her lips and warned in a whisper, "Be careful, dearest. That lovely face of yours will freeze into an ugly grimace. Then what will you do?"

" 'Tis simple. I'll refrain from looking into mirrors," Keely replied, the hint of a smile touching her lips. "The important question is, what will
you
do?"

" 'Tis simple," Richard parried, his courtier's wickedness coining to the fore. "I'll snuff the candles before I futter you."

Keely gasped in offended surprise, and her face flamed with scorching embarrassment. No man had ever spoken so crudely to her.

Richard took pity on her innocence. He drew her into a sideways hug and planted a kiss on her cheek. "I'm teasing. Are my lips burned from touching your face?"

Keely couldn't quite suppress her smile.

While the courtiers consumed everything in sight, musicians circulated throughout the hall and entertained on their pipes and lutes. The dancing began when the feasting ended.

Proud of his bride, Richard escorted Keely around the hall and introduced her to the other courtiers. Keely felt confused by all the unfamiliar faces and names, and utterly conspicuous as the center of everyone's attention. The males swarmed about her, their interested gazes inviting her to seek their company at a later date. The females, especially the younger ones, smiled politely; but their sullen gazes spoke volumes and reflected their unvoiced envy.

"Dearest, would you care to dance?" Richard asked when he managed a minute alone with his bride.

Keely froze in a near panic. She didn't know how to dance, but she'd rather eat pork than admit she lacked that cultured skill.

"The wine made me dizzy," she lied. "Would you mind if I didn't?"

"Of course not, sweetheart. I do owe an obligatory dance to the queen. Let me take you to Lady Dawn."

As Richard and Keely crossed the hall, they passed a group of young females that included the Ladies Morgana, Sarah, and Jane. Keely cringed inwardly as their conversation reached her ears.

"She's my father's penniless bastard," Morgana said in a loud voice.

"Why would Basildon stoop to marry a bastard?" Lady Sarah asked. "He could have had any woman in England."

"Because she's uncommonly beautiful," Lady Jane answered, critically eyeing her rival for the earl's affections.

"Any of us would have better suited him," Morgana remarked. "My bastard sister played the harlot for the earl and contrived for my father to find them. He forced the earl into this unwanted marriage."

Richard stopped short and started to turn around, but Keely touched his forearm and turned a pleading gaze upon him.

" 'Tis been a wonderful day," Keely said, her expression stricken. "Do not mar its beauty by calling undue attention to her lies. 'Tis spite that rules her tongue. Morgana believes I've usurped all that was meant to be hers. Mayhap I'd feel the same in her position."

Richard nodded in understanding but said, "You are a saint who never has a bad word for anyone."

"I did for my father on Samhuinn."

"You were upset," he reminded her.

"And so is Morgana," she replied.

While Richard danced with the queen, Keely stood in the company of his mother and Lady Dawn, but her thoughts centered on her husband instead of the conversation swirling around her. Watching him, Keely wished she possessed the skill to partner him on the dance floor. She'd escaped with her ignorance undetected this time-— but what excuse would she use on all the other nights of her life?

Richard returned to Keely's side and led her away on the pretext that he wanted to introduce her to someone across the hall. Nonchalantly, he guided her around the perimeter of the chamber, but when they neared its entrance, he yanked her outside, ordering, "And now, my lady, run."

As they raced through the maze of corridors, Keely asked, "Why are we running?"

"Those bawdy drunks will strip us naked," Richard answered without breaking stride. "I'll share the sight of your beauty with no man."

His words made Keely run even faster, which brought a smile to his lips. He never would have imagined a pagan wench would be so modest.

Reaching the safety of their chamber, Richard slammed the door shut and bolted it. Within seconds, they heard loud banging, men's voices slurred with drink, and female giggles.

"Devereux, you cheated us!" shouted Willis Smythe.

"Disperse," Richard called, "or I'll pauper every last one of you."

As the voices and the laughter drifted back down the corridor and faded away, Richard turned around to stare at his bride. Suddenly shy, Keely dropped her gaze to the floor.

My beautiful bride fears what comes next,
Richard realized. His own knowledge extended only to the experienced and willing. How could he best make her relax and enjoy herself? And then it came to him.

Richard unbuckled his belt and dropped it on the floor. His doublet followed that.

Keely refused to look up. She did, however, know what he was doing, as evidenced by the becoming blush that stained her cheeks.

Richard smiled. He removed his shirt and tossed it at her feet.

Staring at it, Keely felt like crawling into a hole. Holy stones! What was she expected to do? She closed her eyes against what she knew was coming next—his pantaloons.

"Look at me, dearest." His voice was a soft caress.

Ever so slowly, Keely lifted her gaze from his boots, to his well-muscled pantalooned thighs, to his magnificently bared chest. She let out a peal of laughter.

There stood the renowned Earl of Basildon with his upper arm muscles dancing to the beat of a silent tune. He grinned and opened his arms, inviting her into his embrace.

And Keely went to him. She walked straight into his embrace and pressed herself against the hard muscular planes of his body. The last thing she saw before his lips captured hers was his devastating smile.

Richard kissed her slowly and lingeringly. He knew he needed to take his time with his bride and coax her into doing his bidding willingly. Only then could he truly find his own satisfaction.

"My beautiful bride," he whispered, drawing back finally, caressing her silken cheek almost reverently.

"What about your tongue touching the tip of your nose?" Keely asked.

"I lied about that," Richard admitted without the slightest trace of remorse.

"Why would you do that?"

Richard cocked a copper brow at her. "To impress you, of course."

Keely gave him a wry smile, and her violet eyes sparkled like amethysts. "I was
very
impressed, but your honesty impresses me even more."

" 'Tis good of you to notice my finer points of character, dearest," Richard said with mock solemnity, keeping their conversation light lest he frighten his nervous bride. "If you turn around, I'll play the tiringwoman for you."

Exhibiting the practiced skill of a man who has unfastened hundreds of women's gowns, Richard completed his task within mere seconds, but his expertise was lost on his innocent bride. He traced a finger down the delicate column of her spine and then nuzzled the side of her neck with his lips.

Keely shivered at the sensations he created. Holy stones! She felt hot and cold at the same time. But how could that be?

"Cold, dearest?" Richard asked, gently turning her around to face him. "Shall I stoke the fire?"

Self-conscious in her modesty, Keely clutched the bodice of her wedding gown to her breasts and stared at him. "I'm fine," she managed to say in an embarrassed whisper.

Richard smiled with all the tenderness he felt for her. "You can change behind the screen over there," he said, gesturing with a slight incline of his head.

Keely hurried across the chamber to the refuge of the screen. She stepped out of her wedding gown and placed it neatly across a stool, then removed her undergarments and donned the nightshirt that had been made especially for this night of nights.

Holy stones! Keely thought, looking down at herself in the gauzy nightshirt. The damned gown was transparent. For all that it covered, she might as well have worn nothing at all! She lingered behind the screen in nervous indecision.

"Perhaps we should send for May and June," Keely called, stalling for time.