Telepathy of Hearts (6 page)

Yes, Eleanor thought
while
on her adventures
, she was as free as the boys
she envied so. That precious time was worth the bite of Mother Bear
's birch on her return. Edmund had often been her abetter, neither as brave nor as wicked as Eleanor but encouragingly naughty. His apprenticeship as a boy knight had taken him away and the sea had ultimately taken him forever.

Nothing gave her a thrill quite like escaping to the fre
e
dom of her secret Eden.
Upon
Edmund
's loss it had softened the blow. Just like it had done
after
her mother
's passing.

“
For that is why your given name is Eve
,
daughter,
”
her
mother had often told her when she held her tight and touched her heart.
“Eden is in you and you will find right in here.
”

Clasping her hands to her heart where her mother had touched her, she looked out of the window to the lakes that had just coloured her thoughts.
“Oh Mother, where are you when I need you so.
” Tears started to well and wind their way down her cheeks.

The men had long gone from her sight. She had lost he
r
self in her thoughts. The day was now darkness, and the ca
n
dles were lit. The amber glow of tallow flickered against the stone walls. Too perturbed to eat, Eleanor tried to continue her study and found herself too distracted to read. Tears dropped upon the velum in her hand.

Her nursemaid, Goody Halyard, was making ready for travel. She had nursed Eleanor since her birth, becoming her wet nurse when her own babe died. To Goody, Eleanor was her own dear daughter, and she denied her nothing. So much so Lady Bruce blamed her regularly for the need to birch her stepdaughter. A small woman of not much over four foot, what she lacked with her diminutive stature she more than made up
for
with her ferocity. The old Earl had christened her the poison dwarf and was nearly as wary of her as he was his wife.

“You do fuss, Goody, clucking and strutting as if you were an old brown hen
…be still and sit a while.
” Eleanor did not turn as she spoke, trying to keep her tears a secret and her pride intact.

Nothing was missed by Goody who had both seen and heard her tears.
“I bet you are right excited
,
my Babe. About your betrothal and all. He is a fine
-
looking man, the Earl. I don
't understand why you are so shy about meeting him.
” Goody
's voice
was
kind and soft.

“I am not shy. I did not want this betrothal. Oh
,
and b
e
fore you ask
…no, Mother Bear did not break me with the sting of her birch. I have simply had my fill of Lady Bruce. Being married to a bull I see as no worse than living with a bear.
Perhaps if I am lucky he will meet his fate in battle.
”

“Take that back, for that is a wicked thing to say.
Child
,
you may witch the man with those words,
” Goody scolded. She gestured the holy cross across her chest.

Eleanor was peeved by her nursemaid
's questioning. This time tears of temper and frustration burn
ed
her eyes. Aggrieved at her situation, the she-
wolf inside snarled, irr
i
tated and vexed. Her face flushed and she snapped.
“I will not take anything back
…for God is my witness, he looked at me in a way that
…well it undid me
…
'tis ev
il I say, his stare is evil. Oh,
and it is a bother to me that you are my nurse maid yet you spy for the king and that shrew Lady Bruce.
”

Goody chuckled. Her large breasts bounced on her belly as the chuckle became a howling laugh.
“That is not evil, child. He looks on you with the passion of a man
who has a thirst for you.
No different as Adam did Eve.
Pray Edmund was a boy and did not stir you.
” Her many chins turned red with the warm flush of humour as she continued,
“The Earl looks to you as a man should his betrothed.
'Tis right he has avarice in his eye. The feeling is in you too. He awakens the woman in you and rightly so. You are undone for ye will soon be calling him husband.
”

“Goody, get out of here,
” Eleanor shrieked.
“Go! Take your leave of me now for I may get Mother Bear
's birch and chide you if you dally.
” Eleanor was furious. Deep down she knew it was because Goody spoke truthfully. But she hid b
e
hind her anger, unable to face the reality that Matheus had woken the goddess in her and quite unsure if she was thrilled or frightened at the way his eyes had fevered for her.

Goody did as she was told. Fleeing the room with great haste and laughing at her mistress as she left. Objects bounced off the closing door behind her as Eleanor made good with her aim.

The door creaked open and Eleanor screamed as she threw a chamber pot at it.
“Go away and boil your head. You are not welcome!
”

The shock of what greeted her took her voice as the door opened wide. The man who entered the doorway moved sideways with great agility. His quick feet helped him avoid the pot as it smashed to the floor. Rising his brow, he said,
“Well, I suppose I should thank the Lord that the pot was empty. I thought I needed to introduce
—
”

“I apologise. You caught me unawares, sir. For if I had known it was YOU, not my nursemaid, I would have aimed better.
” Fuelled by her temper, her courage held fast. She looked him straight in the eye.
“I know full well who you are. Some call you The Lincoln Bull. I fear I am to call you husband. It is neither befitting nor right for you to be alone with me unchaperoned, betrothed or not.
”

Eleanor had never imagined the man she was due to marry would be entering her bed chamber, especially as she had watched him ride away only an hour ago at most. The little nerve by the corner
at the corner of her eye
ticked slightly as she tried to rein in her nerves.

In front of her was a knight a foot taller than her. He was imposing, rugged yet incredibly handsome. His body was broad and his loins long, the colour of his skin exotic. Bronzed as golden, sun-
kissed sand. There was a day
's shave on his chin, framing a full mouth that just at that moment broke into a grin.

His arresting, azure gaze was exploring her. She felt its burn as it swept over her body. His attention was unwe
l
come, and Eleanor was struggling, lost somewhere between passion and panic. As unnerving as it was, as dangerous as she found him, every cell, every sinew wanted his attention on her.

Eleanor swallowed, steadying herself. There was a po
w
er in his presence. Even his smile was dangerously char
m
ing.

I am the niece of the King, daughter of the House of Lancaster; I can do stoic.

Goody was right, though. The man who would take me as his in a matter of weeks is quite angelic.

She chided herself for her thoughts.

Get a grip, steady the ride, and slow the mount.

Tightening her chest and resisting her heart as it drummed against its cage, she struggled for breath. Her hands became clammy, and her face flushed. She could deny it to herself. But she could not lie to her heart; something, or more likely someone, was speaking to it.

There was something strangely familiar about this knight. When he left the throne room earlier she had noticed how he walked with such ease despite being a tall and mu
s
cular man. Then upon his destrier she had felt the flutter of recognition. It was those eyes. That smile, the way he moved. She knew them, but how, from when?

Watching a tendon ticking in his jaw Eleanor was caught quite unaware. Matheus had seized her. Grabbing her waist. His large hands spanning her tiny frame, he pulled her into his muscular arms. Holding her vice-
like agains
t a
hu
n
dred and eighty pounds of muscled fury.

Trembling, unsure of what she should do, Eleanor was panicking. Edmund had never grasped her, and her mind whirled in confusion.
“Unhand me, you have no right,
” she hissed as she struggled, held true in his masculine bonds.

“Right you say
…my Lady you should be of thanks I have shown such restraint thus far.
”

Eleanor
's head may have had no idea how to react. But her body did and was answering his accordingly. Her breath was heavy and shallow, almost in a pant. There was a faint glow to her skin, and it was flushed with colour. The hard stone wall was rigid against her spine. He had been manoe
u
vring her backwards. She was now anchored by his thighs. Her chest and groin was crushed by his immense body into a caging embrace. She felt him hard and settled and aroused against her. There was no room for escape, but did she want to?

Swallowing hard. As the feelings of arousal blurred with panic she opened her mouth in readiness to scream.

Matheus lifted a hand to her face.
Cupping her chin with his large palms he stretched his thumb to brush her lips ge
n
tly and voiced in the softest timbre,
“SShhhssshhhh.
” He looked to her mouth, then back up to her eyes. Dropping his gaze once more, his eyes focused on her mouth. They na
r
rowed, and his beautiful face twisted as if his words were dangerously dark and bitter on his tongue.

“You fear that you are to call me husband, do you now Mistress? And I have been told how you refuse to see me. Well let me give you something to help you with that.
” He moved his hand from her face to the back of her head and started to pull her to him.

Panic pulsed through her, The impact of her situation now frightened her. Starting to struggle, she tried to free he
r
self from his grip but it was merciless and his hold relen
t
less.

Matheus was a skil
l
ful lover and a strong man. Fight as she might, she could not free herself. When she simply had no strength left and could not fight him any longer, he used the hand that held the back of head to force her into his kiss. Taking her whole mouth in his he tested the seam
s of her lips with his tongue, i
nvading her mouth with it.
Pulling her to him with a restless need as if the world threatened to thieve her from him.

Eleanor
's body was moving against him. The more she did so, the more he relaxed into her. Softening his grip a li
t
tle, he answered her trembling with his caresses. She could feel his desire for her body as his pelvis ground into hers. Eleanor sensed Matheus was delighted with himself.