Knight's Caress (23 page)

Amberlie pushed her hair away from her shoulder and sat up. “I suppose you’ll want to wash me.”

“Aye, but only if you insist.”

She laughed, knowing she wouldn’t refuse him. He derived as much pleasure from touching her as she enjoyed being touched. She was no longer shocked by Tedric’s lusty behavior, or her own, for that matter. Tedric had this all-consuming power over her body which she was slowly coming to accept. For Tedric, lovemaking was a necessary and expected part of life, and he took full enjoyment in it. And under his expert tutoring, she was beginning to feel the same way.

Settling into the tub, Amberlie turned over her bathing to him. Tedric was tender in his ministrations and constantly praised her body. Never had she felt more beautiful than when she allowed Tedric to have his way with her. But on the morrow, when light broke, she knew that his heart would belong to Glenna and not to her. Though Glenna was miles away, Amberlie felt the woman’s presence most acutely during the day.

But at night, she lived up to their bargain and enjoyed her husband’s lovemaking. She simply couldn’t resist the man. As long as they remained in London, Glenna was nowhere around to tempt him. And Tedric belonged only to her.

 
“Amberlie,
cherie,
how pleased I am to see you again.” Matilda, Queen of England, hastened to embrace Amberlie the next morning when she joined the queen in her chamber. Amberlie sat next to her on the red velvet cushions of the window seat. The River Thames flowed swiftly past in the distance, and on this particular morning, a slight mist hung in the air. They spoke for a number of minutes about Amberlie’s father, who had been a favorite of Matilda’s and a dear friend to the king. Both reminisced fondly about Normandy, their eyes wistful, growing silent in their memories. Finally, Matilda cleared her throat. “I have spoken to the king about your situation,” Matilda began, a slight smile hovering on her lips. “Are you pleased with William’s choice of husband for you?”

Amberlie knew better than to complain to the queen about the king’s decision, but truly she had nothing to complain about for Tedric was a devoted husband—at night.
“Oui,
Your Majesty, I am well pleased.”

“I hear this Tedric is a handsome man. I look forward to greeting him. In fact, he is hawking with the king. What say we join them?”

“If that is your wish, Your Majesty.”

“We shall take my ladies with us.” Matilda rose, and her thin figure elegantly moved across the room to an outer chamber, where she ordered her ladies to join them.

Half an hour later, the women walked the distance from the royal hall to the open field. To protect themselves from the misty weather, each wore a mantle and hood. They stopped a short distance from where William, with three of his own men and Tedric, was in conversation with the falconer. Tedric turned and happened to see Amberlie among the women. He bowed politely, and this elicited a giggle from a pretty auburn-haired young woman. “Such a handsome devil!” she exclaimed. “See how broad of shoulder he is, how thick of calf.
II est magnifique!”

“Oui,”
an even comelier brunette agreed. “I should like to meet him.”

“Yvette! Denise!” said Matilda in sharp reprimand. She was aware that Amberlie might be uncomfortable with other women eyeing her husband. “Return to the palace at once.”

Blushes immediately suffused both women’s faces, and they looked confused, wondering what they’d done to deserve such harsh treatment from the queen. But both curtsied deferentially and hurried away. “Please forgive them,
cherie,
they are very young,” said the queen.

“And very beautiful,” Amberlie said, disliking the sudden jab of insecurity she experienced. She’d worried about Glenna, but now Tedric would be surrounded by many beautiful women while at court—women who would no doubt praise his every action and each syllable he uttered. She might be his wife and share his bed, but Tedric didn’t love her and never would for they were enemies.

They watched William and Tedric, involved in the sport, for quite a long time. Some others of Matilda’s ladies politely withdrew with the queen’s permission. Finally, the gentlemen headed in their direction, and William introduced Tedric to Matilda before they retired to the great hall for the midday meal.

Amberlie sat next to Matilda during the meal, and Matilda smiled knowingly at her. “My husband was right to order your marriage to the Saxon. This Tedric is a good man and will protect our kingdom. I can tell these things.”

“I am pleased you approve, Your Majesty.” Amberlie stole a glance at Tedric at the same time as he looked at her from the other end of the long table. She glanced away, instantly warming beneath the fire she saw in Tedric’s eyes.

Matilda laughed, the tiny lines around her eyes crinkling in amusement.
“Oui,
William chose well. He is responsible for a marriage of love, is he not?”

Amberlie was startled. “You are mistaken, Your Majesty. Our marriage is based upon enmity, not love.”

“Cherie,
you are a fool if you believe such a thing.” Matilda brushed some bread crumbs from her skirt and peered intently at Amberlie. “Tedric is in love with you. I see love on his face each time he looks at you. The man adores you,
cherie.
Open your eyes.”

“I hasten to disagree. He loves someone else.”

“Pooh! He loves you, and I won’t hear to the contrary. You’re in love with him too.”

Amberlie shook her head in denial. “Oh, no, Your Majesty, I do not—”

“So, you dare to disagree with your queen. I thought your dear father taught you well.”

“I’m sorry, forgive me, I didn’t mean to contradict you.”

“Don’t look so affronted,” Matilda said kindly, patting Amberlie’s hand. “I was but teasing you. Still, I speak the truth. Not only must you open your eyes but your heart as well. Then you shall see the obvious.
N’est-ce pas?”

The obvious. Matilda was evidently of a fanciful nature.

Amberlie glanced at Tedric again, and still she found that he watched her. More and more, it seemed, she noticed his gaze following her. She couldn’t stop staring at him either, watching him whenever he thought she was occupied with something else or even sleeping. Sometimes she feigned sleep just to peer at him when he rose naked from their bed, to drink her fill of his handsomeness without his awareness. She was conscious of his every movement and took unwilling delight in it. Was this lust—or love?

When Amberlie returned to her chamber that afternoon, she discovered one of Matilda’s ladies waiting for her, an elderly woman whom she recalled as Isabelle. The woman proudly pointed to the bed, where lay a jeweled headdress and a red bliaut, fashioned from the softest velvet, accompanied by an embroidered wool girdle which was scarlet in hue. “A gift from Her Majesty to keep the flames high in a man’s eyes,” Isabelle informed her with an impish smile. “There will be much merriment at court tonight, and Her Majesty expressly wishes you to wear her gift.”

Amberlie stroked the soft material and blushed all the way to her hairline. Evidently the servant who’d tidied her room that morning had discovered the torn bliaut and chemise from the night before and brought them to the queen. “Tell Her Majesty that I am very grateful.” She was more than grateful, for the gown was one of the most beautiful she’d ever seen.

Minutes later, Tedric entered, and Isabelle discreetly left them alone. Beneath his arm, he carried a leather pouch of medium size. He frowned upon seeing the clothes upon the bed. “Have I a rival?”

Amberlie laughed, feeling suddenly light-hearted. “A gift from the queen.”

“Better the queen than the king.” The whiteness of his sudden smile dazzled her. “Now, I have something for you.” He offered her the pouch.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Something you need and want very much,” he said with a wink, being purposely mysterious.

Her heart thumped hard and her mouth grew dry in anticipation. Her fingers shook. Perhaps, just perhaps, it was the morning gift. In childlike eagerness, she opened the pouch, her hand rushing within its depths to come in contact with thin, gauzy material. Taking it out, she discovered a delicately sewn chemise of such pale yellow that it was almost white. She bit down upon her lower lip to hide her disappointment.

“Do you like it?” he asked, and came behind her and placed his arms around her waist.

“It—is very lovely.”

“I wanted to replace the one I ripped from you last night. I found a seamstress in London- town who sold it to me for a fair price.”

Tedric kissed the nape of her neck, and at any other time Amberlie would have wildly responded to him, but now she felt like crying. She’d been silly to expect the morning gift, and she knew she shouldn’t be disappointed but she was. All over again. Nothing was going to change between them—ever. The queen was wrong to say Tedric loved her, and Amberlie had been foolish to question her own judgment about his feelings for her, and hers for him. There was only one gift she wanted, one gift she’d have cherished. Tedric might give her pretty clothes, but she wanted something from him that he didn’t intend to give to her. She wanted the circlet as proof that she’d pleased him and was truly his wife. This chemise meant nothing, and she suddenly wanted to wound his pride as he’d wounded hers.

Turning around, she threw the chemise at him. He grabbed it in one of his large hands before it hit the floor. “I prefer to wear one of my own.”

“Your clothes are worn,” he protested, clearly perplexed.

“But they are mine. I choose to take nothing from you. Give the chemise to Glenna for I’m certain she’d be more grateful than I.”

He stood stock still, a hurt look on his face, which he quickly masked by a sardonic twist of his lips. “I apologize, my lady. I forgot that you’ve never taken anything from me—but your own pleasure in bed.”

Raising her hand, she slapped his face. Even as she did this, she knew it was a mistake, but she was unable to control herself. No sooner had she inflicted the blow than Tedric’s hand grabbed hers in a hold so tight that she felt her fingers go numb.

“Never, ever do that again, my lady,” he warned in a chillingly cold voice. “I am your husband now, whether you care for me or not. I am your master and will have your respect. I know not what has happened to cause this change in your attitude, this rift between us, but you shall not embarrass either yourself or me when in the presence of others. For the king’s and queen’s eyes, you will play the docile and contented wife. At Woodrose, you’ll bow to my wishes in bed and out.”

“And what will you do if I disobey you? Shall you have me flogged? Shall you put me from your bed?” She was being foolhardy and she knew it, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Tempt me not, Amberlie. For your own sake, obey me in all things. But I promise you one thing—I shall not put you from my bed. You will bear me children, my lady, half-Norman children to insure that Woodrose remains in my possession.”

“I hate you!” she spat out, feeling horribly used and humiliated to be wanted only for the children she would bear him.

“Your feelings cannot be helped,” he said almost sadly, “but I do promise you that in my bed, you will enjoy each moment. You know in your heart that you will. Your body belongs to me, only to me.”

“My heart never shall.”

“That I know well.” He dropped her hand. “Dress now for Their Majesties await.” He threw the chemise upon the bed and left the room, slamming the huge door behind him.

Amberlie rubbed her wrist to relieve the numbness. Tears shimmered in her eyes, not from any physical pain but from the terrible pain in her heart. Somehow she knew that wearing the red gown that night would gain her nothing. The gown would spark no flames in Tedric’s eyes, and later that night, her premonition was proved true. Tedric lay beside her in the dark; he made no move to touch her. And though she should have been gladdened at the fact, her traitorous body ached for him.

~
~
~

Over two weeks later, Amberlie and Tedric traveled the roads back toward Woodrose, escorted by four of William’s most capable knights. At first, Tedric had objected to the entourage, still not trusting Normans in general, but the king had insisted. William wanted Amberlie safely returned to her home, and with news of violent uprisings in the north, William feared the spread of them in other areas. As night fell on the last day of their travel, they made camp.

Three of the knights discreetly found spots nearby to rest while the fourth leaned against a tree to watch. Tedric found a warm, dry spot for Amberlie. Placing a blanket before the low-burning campfire, he extended his hand to her, but she sank to the ground of her own accord, barely glancing at him. It had been thus since he’d presented her with the yellow chemise. Tedric didn’t know what he’d done wrong, and at this point, after being treated with icy disdain for so long, he didn’t care if she ever spoke to him again. Actually, this wasn’t true, but he’d grown exhausted—and perplexed, and frustrated—trying to discover what he’d done to cause this breach between them.

Aye, frustrated, he thought, and cracked a twig in two as he sat staring into the flickering flames. His body screamed for release. He hadn’t attempted to touch Amberlie in days. Though he’d intended to make love to her each night when he got into bed, he couldn’t get up the courage to approach her. There was something in her attitude which led him to believe that she’d no longer be receptive to him. More than anything he craved her willing response in his arms. He couldn’t make love to a woman who lay in his bed like a corpse.