Love, Remember Me (27 page)

He grinned wickedly at her. "You shall soon see, madame," he promised her. "I advise you to fill your own belly while you may."

She flung back the coverlet on the bed, and sliding from the bed, walked naked over to the table where the food was laid out. She smiled to herself, hearing his sharp intake of breath. It pleased her that she was able to affect him so. Taking up a plate, she took a piece of capon, a braised artichoke, some bread and butter. Setting her plate in the window seat, she turned back to him and said sweetly, "Wine or ale, my lord? Tillie has brought both."

"Ale," he managed to croak. Jesu Lord she was tempting, and he knew she was very much aware of it. He was suddenly amused.

She filled a goblet and brought it to him.

"I do not think I have ever been served in such a fashion," he told her, chuckling. "Will you always serve me thusly, madame?"

"If it pleases you, my lord," she answered him demurely.

"Eat your supper, Nyssa," he told her. "I am almost through with mine. I have another appetite that will shortly need satisfying."

"First you must bathe," she told him. Then she bit into the piece of capon's breast she had taken for herself.

"Only if you will wash me yourself," he teased her. "I have always wanted a wife who would bathe me. And then I will bathe you."

"You forget, sir, I have already bathed," she said, smiling at him. She was rather enjoying his teasing. She had never imagined a man and a woman would tantalize each other so. She finished off her capon and licked her fingers before picking up the chunk of bread she had taken for herself. Thoughtfully she smeared the butter across the bread with her thumb, then bit into it. She had certainly not realized that men, like boys, enjoyed playing games. These games, however, were surely of a more dangerous, though eminently satisfying, sort. She swallowed down her bread and then arose to pour herself some wine. He was watching her. She could feel his eyes upon her. It was exciting, and not just a little frightening. Nyssa wished now that she had not been so bold and had wrapped herself in the coverlet. Nervously she pulled the leaves from the artichoke and nibbled them.

What an adorable creature she is, Varian thought. Nyssa.
His wife
. He could scarce believe it. They had not even been wed a full day yet, and he wanted her more now than he had before. She bewitched him, fascinated him, consumed him not just with her beauty, but with a mixture of intelligence, wisdom, humor, and sensuality. He had not realized that a woman could possess all of these traits, but then, he thought to himself wryly, what had he really known of women other than their lovely bodies? In his own way he was as ignorant of women as she was of men. What a wonderful time they were going to have learning about each other. He wondered if Thomas Howard had really known what a magnificent gift he was giving his grandson, would he have given it? His grandfather was not noted for his generosity, even to those of whom he was fond, and they were few.

"I am ready to bathe you, my lord." Nyssa's voice broke the silence of the room. She looked anxiously at him.

Varian arose and slowly stripped off his breeches. He held back a smile at her blush. It was charming that she could still blush, considering their last and recent lusty bout with Eros. Then she bent to check the water's temperature, and he felt himself becoming aroused. He forced himself to control his randy member, saying, "Is it comfortable, madame? I do not like too hot a tub. The skin shrivels."

"I think the temperature perfect, my lord," she answered, "but put your hand in and see if it suits you."

"I will trust your judgment," he told her, stepping into the tub and seating himself. He held out his hand to her. "Come, madame. This tub was built for two, and I specifically instructed Toby not to fill it so full that two people would overflow it."

"You told your servant that we would bathe together?" Her voice was shocked. "Ohh, my lord, how could you! What will he think?"

"It is not his duty to think, Nyssa," the earl replied.

"Mayhap not, my lord, but nonetheless servants do think, and they gossip among one another as well. Why, half the gossip at court comes first from the servants. If one wishes to learn the latest bit of scandal, one has but to ask the servants. I cannot believe that you did not know it!"

He looked perplexed, as if such a thing had never occurred to him. Of course, she thought. Men were so damned dense when it came to the practical. They never noticed what was right underneath their noses. He probably never considered that all the information that his Toby passed on to him was but the latest gossip from Toby's fellow servants. Even dear loyal Tillie, far more discreet than many, was prone to exchanging gossip.

"Since you will be accused of deliciously wanton behavior, madame, whatever you do, come into my tub and join me," he said. "I need you to scrub my back for me."

"I can scrub it from outside the tub, my lord," she replied.

"But I cannot scrub yours," he said. "Come, Nyssa, though I know some people at court who do not bathe from one month to the next, I have not heard it said that bathing twice in a single day can harm you."

His eyes were twinkling at her, and she found she did not want to resist him. So far his games had brought her naught but pleasure. Besides, if she was to be honest, she had become sweaty during their lovemaking. Her skin did feel quite sticky. He waggled a finger at her, and with a small laugh Nyssa stepped into the tub, sitting opposite him.

"There," he almost purred, "is that not nice, sweeting?"

"I think you a most outrageous and possibly dangerous man," she told him. "How can I scrub your back from here, my lord?"

"I shall turn about," he told her, and proceeded to do just that before she might protest about water upon the floor.

Nyssa took a handful of soft soap from the stone jar by the tub and smoothed it over his back. Taking up a soft cloth, she began to scrub him. His torso was very long, and his shoulders broader than she had realized, but then she had had little time to observe him.

"Be gentle," he teased. "My skin is delicate, sweeting."

"Do not play the fool, sir," she scolded him. Carefully she rinsed off his back. "There now, you are done."

He turned so that once again they were facing each other. "Wash my chest now, madame," he commanded her.

"You are determined to be spoilt, I can see," she told him, but dutifully took up a second handful of soap and smeared it across his smooth chest. Her hands rubbed with a circular motion over his muscled frame. She rinsed him, saying, "Now, sir, are you satisfied?"

"I must wash you," he told her, and before she could protest, he was rubbing soap over her breasts, fondling them, squeezing them, playing mischievously with her nipples.

"That is not how to properly wash," she exclaimed breathlessly.

"No?" He feigned innocence as he rinsed her, and then bending his head down, he kissed each pretty breast in turn. "Now, madame, your back," he said, but instead of letting her turn about, he slid his hands beneath the water and, cupping her buttocks in his hands, lifted her slightly before settling her down upon his raging member. Then pulling her against him, he began to calmly wash her back.

Nyssa gasped, shocked by his action. She had never heard of people making love in a bath! His hands smoothed soap over her back, while at the same time she could feel him very distinctly deep inside her sheath.
He was throbbing
. She shuddered with a rising awareness of her own desire even as he drizzled water down her back. Then he was taking her face between his hands and kissing her passionately, his tongue foraging deep within her mouth, making her dizzy with her own longing. She realized that their legs had somehow become tightly wrapped about each other, yet she felt like she was going to fall at any moment.

"Lean back," he growled in her ear, and when she did, he kissed the slender column of her throat, her chest, and her breasts, all the while thrusting with sharp, little movements within her. He seemed almost deranged in his longing for her, and she felt a strange wildness coming upon her. Her nails clawed at his shoulders and back. "Vixen," he groaned, and his mouth fastened about one of her nipples, drawing hard upon it. He suckled her fiercely, and she moaned, her head thrashing.

"
Varian!
" she managed to cry out. "This is madness!"

"I cannot get enough of you!" he half sobbed. "Dear God, Nyssa, why can I not be satisfied?" He was kissing her frantically.

She realized that she could not fight him, that she wanted his passion every bit as much as he wanted to give it to her. Passion, it seemed, was as addictive as sugarplums. She felt her body thrusting back at him, seeking the wonderful pleasure he had earlier given her. When it came, she wept in his arms, shattered by the tremendous lust that had overwhelmed them both, yet contented by the final outcome. She had never realized that married people made love so often and in such a variety of places.

He tipped her face up to him and kissed her mouth softly. "I adore you, Nyssa," he told her quietly. "You are magnificent."

She blushed. "I cannot help myself," she told him. "When you make love to me, I truly enjoy it. I do not want you to stop, I fear."

"We have gotten water upon the floor," he said, his face not quite as repentant as it should have been. "Shall I call someone to clean it up, or would you rather we dried ourselves off and found our bed, sweeting? A bit of wine to restore us, a little rest, and perhaps we may again this evening find paradise."

"The water will evaporate, and tomorrow Tillie can remove the stains it leaves," Nyssa said in practical tones. "God's bones, I am hungry again! Does lovemaking always make one hungry, Varian?"

Together they stepped from the tub and dried each other off. Then Nyssa cut several slices of bread, lavishly buttered a piece for herself, and placed a slab of rare beef upon it. Biting into it, she smacked her lips appreciatively, and then held it out to him.

"Would you like a bite, my lord? It is delicious."

"I shall make my own," he told her, "and afterward, I'll have a sweet. Pear tartlet."

"I had another treat in mind," she told him mischievously.

"Madame, I must have time to restore my vigor," he told her again.

"Can you not . . . well, is it not possible . . . ?" she attempted.

"Not at will since I was seventeen," he said with a laugh. "You will not be neglected, Nyssa, for I find you arouse me more than any woman I have ever known, but I am shortly to celebrate my thirtieth birthday, sweeting, and need a bit more time than when I was seventeen to regain my stamina. You are young, and I would have you well-satisfied lest you seek another lover and break my heart."

"Ohhh, I should never seek a lover!" Nyssa declared. "I am your wife, my lord. It would not be honorable to betray you."

Wonderingly he shook his head. "What loyalty do you have to me, Nyssa? A day ago my family entrapped you into marriage with me, and destroyed your reputation with the king. Surely such behavior is not deserving of loyalty. In time, I hope, you will come to fully love and trust me, but for now I should not blame you if you hated me."

She sat cross-legged upon their bed, munching on her bread and meat, but she answered him honestly. "Varian, did you not tell me yourself that when you refused to take part in your grandfather's scheme, he threatened to put me in another's bed, so you agreed to help him after all because secretly you loved me? Certainly such action on your part is deserving of my loyalty. You saved me from the Blessed Mother only knows what horrendous fate."

"But you do not love me," he answered her.

"Nay, I do not," she replied frankly, "but perhaps in time I shall. I cannot promise you that I will, but though we have been wed less than a full day, I find that I do like you. You are kind, and you have humor. I need to know you better, Varian."

"Then you are not angry with me?" he said.

"Nay, not at you, but at your grandfather. I regret the way in which we were forced to wed. I regret that the king should think badly of either of us, even though we may not be important to him. I value the king's friendship. I am saddened that he should believe that I betrayed that friendship by wanton behavior. We cannot tell him the truth, however." She sighed, then continued, "My mother did not know my father, Edmund Wyndham, when she married him. She had had but a single glimpse of him once from behind a hedge when he came to seek Grandfather's permission to marry one of his daughters. He did not even know how many daughters my grandfather had, or how old they were. It was most outrageous of him."

"And how was your mother chosen?" Varian de Winter asked her. He was fascinated by this tale of his unknown mother-in-law.

"She was the eldest," Nyssa answered him. "She was not quite sixteen. My grandfather's flocks had twice been wiped out by disease. He was left virtually penniless with a fine estate, but no gold to dower any of his eight daughters. When the Earl of Langford appeared, and wanted one of his daughters to wife, Grandfather at first was suspicious, but he had never heard any ill spoken of Edmund Wyndham. My father told him that he was newly widowed and that he had no children. My grandmother's fecundity was well-known in our region. My father reasoned that if my grandmother could bear healthy, living children, then certainly her daughters could as well. That is why he sought out the Morgans of Ashby.

"Still my grandfather demurred, but then Edmund Wyndham made him so handsome an offer he could not refuse him. My father agreed to take Mama without any dowry at all. Indeed he agreed to supply her with everything she needed. He would also dower Mama's sisters and help my grandfather to restore his estates. Grandfather, of course, consented. He could do nothing else and be considered a reasonable man. Mama was furious. She believed that she had been bartered into marriage. My aunts, however, were simply delighted by their good fortune.

"My father's nephew, Anthony Wyndham, came to marry Mama as proxy for his uncle, and to escort Mama to
RiversEdge
. She was furious, and says she detested Tony on sight, but I don't believe it. She was prepared to hate my father too, but his charm, she says, won her over immediately upon her arrival at
RiversEdge
. She fell deeply in love with him. When he was killed in an accident, she blamed Tony. I was not even two, and Mama was with child again. She lost the baby, a son, and she hated Tony even more.