Naked (28 page)

“There aren’t many men like you.”

“Now you’re flattering me,” he said wryly. “For the sake of Mercia, I was glad to have Canute’s respect, but the truth was—I’d already lost respect for myself.”

My voice as soft as a stroke of Ebur’s mane. “You’re too harsh on yourself. You were young. It was impossible to anticipate what happened to Northman.”

“That’s not what the rumormongers began to say. It was probably started by the Danes. Soon enough, the idea was abroad that I wanted power so much that I traded Northman’s life for my earldom.” He moved toward me. “But you’ve heard this already. And you believed it.”

I bit my lip.

If only I could tell him I’d never experienced that moment of doubt at the Evesham monastery. That dreadful moment when I wondered if Edmund was telling me the truth, that Leofric was a
huscarl
who had played a hand in his own brother’s assassination and the death of my parents. That seed of doubt had been planted in only seconds. Yet honesty forbade my denying its existence or the damage its tangled roots had done.

“It’s all right.” Leofric said gently. But he drew away ever so slightly. “I understand why you doubted me. I didn’t show trust in you. Why should I have expected you to show trust in me?”

“I ought never to have doubted you. I’ll always regret it.”

“We’ll both have our regrets. The two-sided sword belonged to Edmund as you now know. The
huscarls
are double agents of a kind. The dual blade signifies that they believe themselves to serve both the Saxons and the Danes. But a dog can’t serve two masters.”

As I’d tried to love both Leofric and Edmund. Heart torn.

“At the monastery I saw Edmund with the
huscarl
sword.” It had glinted in the moonlight, like his smile. “Even then I didn’t suspect him.”

“At the monastery. Ah, yes.”

So Acwell had seen us. “You knew.”

Leofric nodded.

“But why didn’t you tell me your suspicions? Why didn’t you trust me?”

He was on his feet. A stride away. His strategy to play for time. His back to me as he stared out of the window.

“I thought you were in love with Edmund,” Leofric said. He spun around. “You’ve bared yourself. Now I must do the same.”

Leofric’s cloak billowed as he came and seized my hands. “I didn’t come here to take your lands, Godiva. Coventry is indeed a jewel.” His eyes as brilliant as a kingfisher’s wing reflected on water. “But the jewel I sought was never Coventry.”

The life in his eyes. In Leofric, who so carefully guarded his emotions.

“At the Witan your father spoke of you. He spoke of your beauty, your intelligence, your courage. He told me Coventry would one day belong to you, his daughter, and that he was prouder of leaving it to you than to any son.”

I gulped back a sob.

“I also met Edmund at the Witan. He made it clear you’d long been intended for him, that yours was a match arranged when you were both children. He said he planned to marry you with Lord Radulf’s blessing.”

“That isn’t true! I wasn’t promised to him. It’s my Saxon right as a noblewoman to choose my own husband.”

“So you reminded me.” One of his dry smiles. “When I went back to Mercia after the Witan I prepared to come to Coventry.”

“You came to warn my father of Thurkill the Tall.”

“And to stop Edmund. When I arrived here to hear that your parents had already been killed—I felt responsible. I’d come too late. I would have spared you any pain. But Thurkill’s plans weren’t my only reason for coming to Coventry. Thurkill the Tall at your borders. Edmund in your confidence. Menace all around you. I’ve been trying to protect you, but you haven’t made it easy for me.”

I tried to speak. No words.

“I’m a warrior. I don’t lay down my arms easily.” Leofric’s tone grew husky. “I wanted to come and see the jewel of the Middle Lands for myself. But when I got here I realized how close Edmund was to you. I thought you aligned with him.”

“You thought I was a
huscarl
?” How could he have thought such a thing?

“You’re too much of a Saxon for that. I know that much about you. But I wasn’t sure how much you might tell Edmund. You seemed very … attached to him.”

Bindweed and hollen. It’s dangerous.

My thoughts roamed back to when I’d discovered Leofric outside the stables after Edmund had asked me to go away with him. “I was never sure how much you knew.”

“I knew your loyalty. And when you came home from the monastery—without your ring…”

His fist clenched my naked finger so hard I winced.

“I knew Edmund had been with you,” he continued hoarsely. “Acwell informed me as soon as you came back from Evesham.”

As I’d suspected.

“Leofric.” I slipped my finger from his vicelike grip. “I don’t know where the ring fell from my hand. We searched and searched. Believe me.”

“I believed you found it unbearable to wear it, that you wanted Edmund all along. I thought you hated marrying me. You considered me too stern, too battle-scarred.”

But I’d glimpsed the man beneath the battle-scars.

“We’ve been at cross purposes all this time. I thought you wanted to marry Elfreda.”

Leofric’s head reared. “Elfreda?”

“Godwin told me you intended to marry her.”

“She was meant for Northman, never for me. We were close after he died,” he conceded. “She and I both loved him; we shared the same loss. But she was a sister to me, nothing more.”

“Godwin was full of her praises.”

He startled me with a roar of laughter. “Of course Godwin was. He’s been in love with her himself since he was a boy.”

“I thought you were the one with regrets, that you were sorry you’d married me.”

“I never regretted it for a single day. The pain of being near you, of making love to you, when your feelings didn’t match mine. Intolerable.” He gave another laugh; more hollow this time.

Then he sobered. “I, the great Saxon warrior, was afraid of laying myself bare. I knew you’d refuse to judge Edmund without evidence. So I went to Mercia to get more proof, but being away from you was even worse. When I journeyed back to Coventry to find you not here—it was the worst moment of my life. Coventry without you—it wasn’t to be borne. Then our argument over the tax. Your pledge to ride. I knew the risk I had to take.”

He bowed his head.

A heart’s breath.

He raised his river-blue gaze to merge with mine. “Better you ride naked and hate me forever than never ride again.”

Hooves of wild horses. My heart thumped.

Courage.

He’d risked it all.

I had to risk it, too.

My courage wouldn’t fail me, I prayed. No sinful pride to stay me. Not this time. Not now.

Into the depths of his eyes I dived.

“Leofric. While you were in Mercia, it was you I truly longed for. Each morning when I awoke, you were my first thought. Each night before I fell asleep, you were my last.”

More courage.

Another wild beat.

Prancing. Dancing.

“I love you. Even as I rode through the street naked I loved you.”

Across his face a sunrise burst. “Can this be true?”

“Didn’t you realize? When you were gone … the days, the hours, the minutes passed so slowly. An eternity. I wanted you with me.”

“And I wanted you. There’s no other woman like you. When I watched you on your horse, cloaked only by your hair, never had I seen a woman more beautiful or more desirable. When you threw your arms to the sky, so strong, so brave, so free. And I used you as a lure.”

My finger pressed his lips. “Hush. It’s forgiven.”

Disbelief. “How…”

“I need your forgiveness, too. I misjudged you.”

Fripwebba.

Peace weaver.

“Forgiven.” I vowed. “Today and forever.”

“The jewel of Coventry. How could I have risked the people looking upon you?”

“They didn’t look upon me. I’m still only yours to see.”

His fingers tangled in my hair. “Your locks of mead saved you.”

“You saved me.”

With a twist, Leofric pulled me into his arms.

29

Unclad herself …

—Tennyson (1842):
Godiva

Leofric’s lips found mine with a passion I never dreamed possible. The fire he’d ignited before became a mere candle flame. A white-hot blaze of bliss burned as his mouth came down on mine.

Returning his fierceness kiss for kiss, I ran my fingers through the mane of his beard, seeking more and more of him.

“
Godiva
.” He pushed my hair from my face. “From the moment I heard your name, you were always in my mind.”

“It was the same for me when I heard your name.
Leofric
. Across time. Across place. It was my soul calling yours.”

“I heard your soul call,” he whispered. “I rode to Coventry to find you.”

“But in the Forest of Arden. You walked away.”

“Arden.” A raw sigh. “I worshipped you in Arden.”

As holy as a vow. He’d felt it, too.

“I thought you didn’t want me. When I danced that night. Surely you knew I danced for you alone. And you left the hall.” It had stung.

“Your whip. Your dance.” He groaned. “My need to take you was too great. I wanted you, eagled on the high table.”

Rippling desire followed his fingers as they pushed up the edge of my shift, trailing up my legs.

“After the honeymoon was over you didn’t seem to desire me anymore,” I murmured as molten heat filled my veins. “You’d done your duty.”

“Duty.” Beneath my shift his hand glided over the curves of my body. “You thought this was a duty.”

“When you touched me in bed you never spoke to me. You didn’t say a word.”

“Not a word?”

Over my hips to cup my breasts, to torment their aching points. I bit my lip. “When I touched your naked body like this. You didn’t guess what I wanted to say? I love you.”

Down to my legs, between my thighs. I quivered. “And this. You didn’t hear? I love you.”

His fingers deep inside me. I could barely stand. “And this. When I touched you, tasted you. Sweet as mead. Sweet as honey. You didn’t know? I love you.”

The moan was mine now as he reached the place no other man had touched.

The body doesn’t lie
. Aine had told me.

The body hears.

The body knows.

And the body aches to sing.

Shuddering I fell against him. My legs, so long held strong, refused to hold me.

Onto the sheepskin. In front of the fire.

Leofric’s hands in my hair. “From this day on, Coventry is yours alone. The love of your people is worth more than gold.”

“You’re Coventry to me,” I whispered. “My land. My home.”

I knelt.

Unbuckled.

Released.

Straining toward me. The scent of leather on his flesh.

My fingers caressing his skin. My lips a circle. My brand on him.

“
Godiva
.” He groaned as I lifted my head.

“You’ll never cut your hair again. Do you promise?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll dance for me.
Naked
.”

“Yes.”

“You’ll stand on horseback.
Naked
.”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll ride.
Naked
.”

“Yes.”

“Now.”

My breath came shallow and fast.

My tunic.

Over my head.

A scarlet flash.

Gone.

My white shift.

My lashes fanned closed.

The scent of lavender.

Soft wings across my face.

Gone.

“Where is your belt?”

He found it. Seized it. Clasped it around my naked waist.

The metal burn on my skin. The molten heat. The beaked eagles below my navel, pointing to their target.

My hands. His clothes. Urgent. Tugging, tearing, untying.

His cloak. Vanished.

His tunic. Cast away.

All garments. Gone.

Territory revealed. Mapped by my kisses.

He pulled us down.

Speared me onto him.

And I rode.

Naked. Astride.

I rode.

Hard and fast.

I rode.

Into a frenzy. Into a lather.

I rode.

Into the fire blaze. My breasts tinted golden and rose.

Leofric’s groan again, deeper this time, his mouth on their arrowed tips.

Arching my spine I tossed my hair into a mane. The tendrils chased down my back. In a surge of elation I lifted my arms into wings, my hair a banner unfurled.

I rode.

Until we became one.

“Godiva.”

Reared up like a stallion he reached for me, rolled me under, to lay me gasping beneath him.

The belt ripped away.

“A daughter for Coventry. Tonight.”

“A son for Mercia.”

His lips.

My lips.

He was a river.

I drowned.

And drowned.

And drowned.

*   *   *

“Godiva.”

Leofric’s voice woke me.

I’d slept the sleep of the loved, the sheets scented with the secrets of our bodies.

My lashes fluttered open.

There he stood beside the bed, staring down at me. His blue eyes clear now, still and deep, a river after a storm.

He’d watched over me as I slept many times before, he’d admitted. As he would watch over me always.

“It’s Edmund.”

The linen clutched over my breasts, I sat up. The bower was warm, the fire still blazed. Leofric had added more than one log to it through the night as I watched the firelight caress his tanned skin.

“What is it?”

Leofric spared no mercy. It was not his way. “He’s dead.”

My head bowed.

Retribution. Swift.

“When did it happen?”

“During the night.”

In the darkness. As I had slept.

Leofric’s sword.

Acwell’s axe.

Aine’s curse.

His own hand.

Any of these may have killed Edmund. Any or none.

I would never ask.

I would never know.

“Leofric.” I raised myself higher, my fingers winding the sheet. “I don’t want this to come out.”