Winter’s Desire Read online

  “Then perhaps you wouldn’t mind bloody well keeping your cock inside your breeches, then? Do you not understand, Lord Benedict, the dangerous game you play? What if you were to father a bastard child? Do you think that the baron would simply look the other way? If you are caught, it brings dishonor down upon us all.”

  He offered a short laugh.

  “No one will know, and in a few days I shall bed my lovely bride as a dutiful husband should. Though based on experience, I find that nobility tends to be a bit stilted in the bedroom.”

  Before realizing the harm that could come from it, I had him by the neck and shoved his head against the wall. I felt the rapid beat of his pulse. “You do not deserve a woman such as Sabeline,” I uttered between gritted teeth. I was seething inside that he could take such liberties against his intended.

  “Be careful, Ranulf. Your king would not be happy to find how you treated his newest puppet.”

  My gaze narrowed on his. “What is your meaning, boy?”

  His hands covered mine and tried to shove it away. “I am not your boy any longer. Do you not think that I know this alliance is for the benefit of the king and not truly of the Normans? Were it my choice, I would not marry a Welsh bride.”

  I tightened my grip on his neck, delighting in the gagging sound that emitted from his pompous throat. I felt him swallow hard beneath my palm. A flicker of angry concern crossed his eyes and then a slow, deliberate smile crept up his face.

  “It is only one wench, Ranulf. No harm done as long as the secret is kept between old friends.”

  The king’s intent for this marriage I could not deny. My only interest was in how he intended to treat Sabeline after they wed.

  “Hold on.” His gaze narrowed on mine. “You…you actually care for her.” He grinned as if he had discovered a piece of gold.

  I dropped my hand and stepped away. “Of course I do, Benedict. She plays an important part in this alliance. To offend her father or her would indeed serve to muddle the king’s political alliance, and that is more important than either you or me.”

  “And is that all, my good sir? Does not the legendary knight that has served not one, but two of England’s kings find the fresh, young Sabeline a tempting morsel? Perhaps, you too, hunger for just a quick taste?”

  Guilt moved my hand to the blade I carried inside my tunic. “Silence, before I silence you myself,” I warned.

  Benedict shrugged.

  “You and I agree on this. Sabeline has indeed grown into quite the beauty since that summer in court. I venture her womanly attributes are ripe for the picking and it is my good fortune to be the first to enjoy the harvest of her fruits. Most willingly, I might add.”

  “Enough. I am giving you fair warning, Benedict. Be at your best. Once you are wed, it is your head the king will have should you continue to play these games.”

  He chuckled as I opened the door. “As if your good king himself does not have his array of bedmates to choose from, eh, Ranulf? Much as I find your warning a trifle amusing, I will heed your words to the best of my ability. However, we have a few days left before my wedding. See to it that my bride comes to my bed still a virgin.”

  I hesitated with my hand on the door. “I shall warn you only once to be cautious of how you speak of the king.” I slammed the door behind me, rattling it on its hinges. This bloody wedding could not come soon enough.

  5

  “IT IS AS IF I AM A SPECTER, MARGARET. HE LOOKS right through me.” My breath blew out in frosty puffs as my cousin and I took an early-morning stroll in the outer ward. One of the guards followed on horseback, watching closely, his eyes intent on the woods beyond the outer wall.

  “Sabeline, he is preoccupied,” Margaret stated impatiently. “The man is, after all, about to be married. His carefree days of bachelorhood are slowly dwindling.” She glanced at me, her blue eyes bright and her cheeks kissed by the chill.

  I pondered her words. “Will that make a difference? When has marriage ever stopped a man from doing as he pleases?” I pulled my wool cape close against the harsh winter wind. Margaret glanced at me, her eyes glittering with curiosity.

  “You question Benedict’s loyalty?”

  “I do not understand. I have tried these past few days to garner his attention and it is useless. He is preoccupied, of that, I am certain. It is the why that baffles me.”

  “Perhaps he needs enticement, cousin. Men are such vague creatures at times. We are forced on occasion to place before them our needs in a fashion that would seem most brazen.” She held my arm and my gaze. “Understand that I would not suggest such measures unless I sensed that you were of a most desperate state.”

  I studied her face and lifted my eyes to the view of the vast, bleak valley that lay over her shoulder. Naked trees and a dank, gray sky settled like a dismal premonition over my marriage plans. Should I not at least be happy about my upcoming marriage? Why did I feel akin to these stark trees when I thought of it? “He is far different than the letters he sent.” My eyes followed a swarm of wrens arcing in the sky above before settling in the wooded glen.

  Margaret grasped my shoulders.

  “We make our own happiness, Sabeline. Do not wait for happiness to find you. Go after it with a firm hand and a strong will.”

  My eyes rested on her serious expression. I offered her a smile. Perhaps she was correct. Perhaps I needed to be more brazen in my approach.

  I pressed my hands beneath my breasts and shoved them up as my maid tied the strings of the corset tighter. The gift from Margaret most certainly did wondrous things to my form. Though not as well endowed as my cousin, I was sure to catch Benedict’s eye wearing this.

  With my head held high, I entered our private dining room where my family and special guests broke our fast. My intent was to find Benedict’s eye and offer him a brazen smile, but it was Ranulf’s heated gaze that took away my breath.

  His eyes raked over me in silence, but my breasts tingled as if his very hands were exploring my body. He stood as I neared the table, his gaze resting on mine, appreciation shining in his eyes.

  Benedict, previously engaged in conversation with one of the servants, followed Ranulf’s gaze and I watched as his face transformed with avid interest. He made haste to meet me and escort me to the seat beside him.

  An odd flutter of apprehension caused my stomach to quiver as I took my place between Benedict and Ranulf. I was painfully aware of how the torturous corset cut into my waist. Nonetheless, my breasts jutted forth in proud display. I searched the faces at the table and caught Margaret’s attention. She offered me a wide smile and raised her brow to signal her encouragement.

  I chanced a small, shallow breath as I tried to relax. I doubted I would be able to eat a morsel.

  “You are looking quite…fit, this morning,” Ranulf muttered quietly, looking at his plate.

  “Fit, Ranulf? Is that all you can say? Good God, she is a vision, breathtaking as the dawn,” Benedict gushed openly, causing my cheeks to burn.

  His eyes slipped to my bodice and I was content that my discomfort was not in vain.

  “This color suits you.”

  Benedict took my hand and leaned over to kiss it, giving him closer proximity to my cleavage.

  “You are too kind, Benedict,” I returned, playing along as Margaret had instructed me. “Perhaps you might consider a walk in the gardens this afternoon? It seems we have barely had a moment to speak alone.”

  His brows rose as he blessed me with a charming grin. “But of course, I will place it high on my list of responsibilities. Forgive me for I have been negligent in not making more time for you.” He kissed the palm of my hand and I felt my flesh heat under the wolflike hunger in his eyes. I found his rapt and sudden attention both flattering and a bit frightening.

  “My pardon, sir, did it slip your mind that we were to ride north today to check on your troops?” Ranulf interjected as he stared straight ahead. He bit off a piece of bread, chewing slowly as he gave
us both a side glance.

  “Is this not a task you could perform as his representative, Sir Ranulf?” I stared openly at him, hoping he would see that I required his help to secure but a few moments of my intended’s attention.

  He continued to chew as he held my gaze for a moment, before looking past me to Benedict.

  “The men, of course, will be expecting you. The winter has been especially hard. It would be best for morale that they hear from their captain, would you not agree?”

  I heard Benedict clear his throat and turned too quickly to face him, wincing as the corset pinched my flesh. I was aware of the pleading look on my face, and I did not attempt to hide it as I awaited his response.

  “A great leader is called upon to do what he must, daughter. For Sir Benedict that means his troops come before you,” my father interjected, putting his final seal on the matter.

  Lord Benedict offered a congenial smile of resignation.

  “I shall return by nightfall, my love. And come the morrow, we shall have our walk.” He glanced past me toward Ranulf. “You have my word.” He touched his hand to my cheek, and a curious challenge flickered across his eyes.

  “We should make haste, if you hope to return before nightfall,” Ranulf spoke, pushing from the table. His heavy chair squawked loudly as it scraped across the stone. He strode down the length of the great hall without a backward glance.

  “You will have to forgive my mentor’s gruffness, Sabeline. He has been alone so long with only his horse and sword to offer him comfort that, I daresay, he does not understand the needs of a woman.” Benedict took my hand and gave it a slight squeeze.

  “I am sure you speak the truth. Still, it is a pity to see a man go through life with no one to share it with.” I stared after Ranulf frustrated and curious at the same time at why he should be so ill behaved toward me. Surely he did not believe I was the same naive young girl of three years ago. Then again, perhaps Benedict’s assessment of him was correct. If only to put our guest at ease, I would speak to him on the matter as soon as possible.

  As soon as Benedict left the room, I hurried back to my chambers and asked my maid to help me peel off my clothes. “Hurry, I can barely breathe.” I felt faint between being so constricted and eating only birdlike bites. As it was, I could scarcely sense my lower extremities.

  “You made quite the impression on your betrothed, Sabeline. I am so proud of you.” Margaret nodded to my maid as she eased inside my chambers. “Leave us,” she ordered sternly. I found her tone as abrasive as Ranulf’s at times. Perhaps Margaret should be the one to speak to him.

  “Yet he left anyway,” I cried as I rubbed my upper thighs to improve my blood flow.

  “’Tis true, but you left Lord Benedict with a vision of your yearning. I am sure that even now he carries it with him.”

  “It was that infernal Ranulf,” I muttered as I smacked my hands together and wondered how long it would take to regain feeling in them.

  “What is your meaning, cousin?” She opened my wardrobe and began to rifle through my gowns, looking for the one I should wear for Benedict’s return that evening.

  “He was the one who insisted that Benedict ride to see his troops,” I spat, free to express my frustration in the privacy of my chamber.

  Margaret was silent. She pulled out a muted, gold-colored velvet gown decorated with intricate embroidery and small sparkling stones.

  “Wear this. It will enhance the tone of your skin.” She dropped it on the bed.

  I drew on my robe and slippers and slumped in the chair by the fire. The scent of pine and cinnamon tossed on the burning logs wafted through the air, calming my senses. “I fear that it is Ranulf who plots against Benedict’s true happiness, and therefore, mine.” I hugged my arms.

  “What reason would he have, cousin, to do such a thing?” Margaret asked.

  I stared into the fire. I had told no one of that night at court, and to confess it now would not serve any good purpose. A part of me wondered if his surly behavior was due to what he could not have. “I do not know, but I mean to ask him at the earliest convenience.”

  Margaret placed her hands on my shoulders and gave them a friendly squeeze. “You focus on Benedict and leave Sir Ranulf to me.”

  I turned my face to hers. “Be careful, cousin. He is a quiet man, but very cunning.”

  She chuckled, patting my shoulder as she gazed into the fire. “You need not worry, cousin. He is no match for me.”

  I had full faith that if anyone could capture Ranulf’s attention, it would be my cousin.

  “Do not fret so. Remember what I told you about finding your happiness.” She patted my shoulder again. “I am going to my chambers to lie down before our guests return. Perhaps a rest will do you some good, cousin. Your eyes are rimmed dark and your face pale.”

  I was not sleepy, but restless. I considered taking a walk to ease the tension inside me, but a midday snowfall hindered my desire to venture outside. I chose instead to wander the castle, stopping in my father’s parlor to peruse his collection of books, many sent as gifts from the king of England.

  As I ventured back to my chambers, I overheard the conversation of two of my father’s kitchen servants. On their hands and knees with fistfuls of straw in their hands, they scrubbed the stone floor of the great hall. I remembered that one of them had spoken to Benedict during our first evening meal.

  “He is impressive. Ne’er before have I seen a staff so large as his.” The fair-haired woman giggled. “I pray to welcome him again to my bed.”

  “Not without me, surely?” The woman with coal-black hair looked up in surprise.

  The fair-haired woman’s expression softened as she glanced around before reaching forward and brazenly cupping the woman’s breast. “It would not be as pleasureful without you.” She smiled as the two shared a prolonged and passionate kiss.

  I watched in fascination

  “He says he will come to you again?” the dark-haired woman asked the other.

  “Aye,” the woman replied, lowering her voice.

  I had to strain to hear their conversation.

  “He says his staff is enough to satisfy the both of us.” The fair-haired woman slipped her fingers beneath the edge of the other’s bodice.

  “You cause me to need, my love,” the brunette maid whispered as she leaned forward, pressing her breast against the woman’s hand.

  “Tonight, my dear, you shall have all the cock you want and I shall enjoy watching your body fall apart even as I know you will bring him around for my pleasure.”

  A pot clattered in the room beyond and both women broke apart in haste, flashing one another secret smiles as they resumed their task.

  I eased back against the wall, my head reeling with what I had been privy to. Surely they did not speak of Benedict? Nor did I believe that Sir Ranulf was the type of man to engage in such activities. Not, of course, that what he did in private mattered the least to me.

  My slippers brushed against the stone floor as I hurried to Margaret’s chambers. I raised my hand to knock and heard the sound of heavy breathing inside, followed by a woman’s breathy sigh.

  I stepped back as my eye caught a trail of muddy prints leading from the side entrance to her door. I fell helpless against the wall, frustrated that all manner of passion surrounded me, and yet I could not capture the undivided attention of one man. Perhaps it was time that I took matters into my own hands, as my cousin suggested, matching him thrust for thrust? No longer could I stand on innocence and propriety. With a man whose fire burned so bright, I needed to walk into the flames with willing determination.

  A steady thump began to rattle the chamber door on its hinges.

  “Harder, yes, yes-s-s…” Indeed, it was Margaret. Her appetite for passion seemed as great as Benedict’s. I smiled, glad that he was far from the castle. It was most likely her guard lover again.

  Margaret’s scream jarred me away from the door. There was the sound of a man’s growl fol
lowed by silence. I stared for a moment at the door and thought of the pleasure I had seen on my cousin’s face the day she had invited me to observe them. Tonight I would wear nothing at all beneath my gown. I smiled at my wicked thoughts. With the magic of solstice to my advantage, I hoped to stir Benedict’s passion for both his pleasure and mine.

  6

  IT HAD BEEN A LONG DAY. MY MUSCLES ACHED from the driving winter wind. A storm had surprised us, beginning late morning, and had increased in its fury as we made our way back to the castle.

  Heavy snow clouds hung low in the valley and the snow hindered the ability to see much beyond a few feet. Eventually, the winds subsided but the snow continued to envelop everything in a thick blanket of white. My horse emitted a loud snort as we plodded forward and I squinted ahead, signaling the others to be cautious. From the dense snowfall emerged a rider accompanied by two men. Relief flooded me as I realized it was Benedict. Durwain could not be far.

  “Welcome back, Ranulf. I trust you found my troops in good spirits?” Benedict spoke as he brought up his horse alongside mine.

  “They are well. I took them your good wishes and the ale. They seemed content.”

  “Always content. I treat my men well, Ranulf. They appreciate what I do for them,” he replied. “And what about you? Are those bones of yours stiff yet from the cold?”

  “My bones are as fit as yours and I will gladly take your challenge to prove it anytime you wish.” I glanced at him, far too tired for his bantering.

  Benedict laughed good-naturedly in response.

  “I trust you had an enjoyable day with your betrothed?” I asked as I made pleasant conversation. In truth, I did not wish to know the details of their time alone. My guilt for insisting he ride with me when I knew fully that I could handle the task alone weighed heavily on my head as we left the castle. In a moment of regret, I insisted he go back and spend the day with her.