Damn, he swore silently. How was he supposed to inform her that her maidenhead was still firmly in place? He sighed. He didn’t want to tell her, but neither did he have any intention of letting this state of affairs continue. It had been his fault, of course, all because he had not wanted to cause her more pain. Abruptly he said to her, “Kassia, I wish to ride. You will accompany me, in an hour.”
She met his eyes shyly, but with a knowledgeable gleam in hers that made him want to laugh and berate her at the same time for her ridiculous ignorance. “ ’Twould be my pleasure, my lord,” she said sweetly, but he saw the impish dimple peeping out.
Exactly an hour later, Kassia, a triumphant smile on her lips, walked to the stables to meet Graelam. So much for Blanche and her attempts to frighten me, she thought, unconsciously squaring her shoulders. She had not meant to say anything to Blanche, but the sight of her giving the servants orders had ruffled her feathers. Now, Kassia had thought, she was the mistress of Wolffeton, and its management was her responsibility.
She had said calmly to Alice, a woman of middle years who seemed to have common sense and the respect of the other servants, “I wish to inspect the looms after I return from my ride with my lord. I think all of us need new garments.”
“I doubt,” Blanche said sharply, before Alice could speak, wondering at this show of spine from the skinny twit, “that your . . . husband will approve. He little appreciates unnecessary expense.”
“It is the Wolffeton sheep and their wool that are of concern,” she said. “I doubt my lord cares a whit, and I would trust that he would not concern himself with household matters.”
“The old woman who did all the weaving died some months ago. There is no one else to assume her job.”
Kassia gaped at her in astonishment. “That is ridiculous!”
“I fear ’tis true, my lady,” Alice said.
“Aye,” Blanche said, a pleased smile on her lips. “I, of course, asked Graelam for funds to hire a weaver to come to Wolffeton, but he refused.”
“Well, I should think so,” Kassia said. “I will, of course, teach the servants to weave and sew properly. If you please, Alice, see that all is in readiness for me when I return.” She knew she should keep her mouth shut, but her resentment at Blanche overflowed once Alice was out of earshot. “I wonder that you do not possess such skill, Blanche.”
“I am not a servant!”
“A wife’s responsibilities number many things, amongst them the knowledge to train servants. Just as a wife also enjoys many benefits, such as pleasure in her husband’s company!”
Blanche paled. So Graelam had taken the girl, and evidently he had not hurt her. “Perhaps,” she said nastily, her disappointment coming to the fore, “when your belly swells with child, you will not so much enjoy your husband’s randy company! Whilst you retch and grow fat, you can rest assured that he will not be so concerned. Perhaps he will even provide you with another chamber, so he can continue to enjoy himself with his other women.”
“You speak as if you know,” Kassia said calmly, but her heart was pounding furiously.
“I?” Blanche gave a dry laugh. “I am simply not a silly little girl who believes her husband is a gallant lord. I doubt Lord Graelam was faithful to my half-sister for above a month!”
“Graelam,” Kassia said quietly, “is an honorable man. I cannot, of course, say anything about your half-sister, but I know he would never break faith with me.” She was beginning to feel the nibblings of guilt, for she was not blind, and she knew that Blanche had wanted to wed Graelam. “Blanche, let us not disagree. You should not have lied to me about coupling.”
Blanche shrugged. “So you are larger than you look. I did not lie to you, I merely did not want you to go blindly like a sheep to slaughter.”
“Thank you for your consideration,” Kassia said dryly. “Now I must go.”
Kassia felt pleased with herself. As to Blanche’s terrible accusations, she knew it the result of jealousy. Coupling wasn’t the terrible ordeal Kassia had believed it would be; his part of it had hurt a bit, but nonetheless, she had felt some pleasurable sensations at her husband’s touch.
“You are looking thoughtful.”
Kassia’s face flooded with embarrassed color at her husband’s voice. “Oh! I was just . . . that is, you were . . . It is a lovely morning, is it not?”
A thick black brow winged upward. Graelam reached out his hand and cupped her chin. “If I threaten to beat you, will you tell me what your thoughts were?”
She smiled, rubbing her cheek against his palm. “ ’Twas wool, my lord! Pure and simple wool!”
He leaned down and lightly touched his lips to hers. “My thoughts, also, were pure and simple.”
She gave a saucy giggle. “I do not believe you. Mayhap you have simple thoughts, but never pure ones!”
“Perhaps I should beat you,” Graelam said thoughtfully. “A man does not want an impertinent wife.”
“Behold, a docile creature,” Kassia said. She dropped him a deep curtsy.
She no longer fears me, he realized. He supposed it pleased him—at least, that she did not fear him sexually. And she made him smile.
He said nothing as they rode from the keep southward along the coast road. The day was deliciously warm, for which he was greatly relieved. He shook his head at himself. Never before had he approached coupling with less passion and more planning. He gave Kassia a sideways look, but she seemed entirely possessed by the scenery. The road roughened downhill, then flattened out, swinging toward the cliff edge. To Kassia’s surprise, Graelam left the road, slowing Demon to a walk, and disappeared for a moment over the edge. She followed him without question and saw that there was a well-worn path down the cliff to the beach below.
“It is not steep,” Graelam called over his shoulder, “but go easy!”
When they reached the pebbly beach, Kassia drew in her breath in pleased surprise. “Oh, how lovely!” she exclaimed, slipping off Bluebell’s back.
The beach formed a deep half-circle, its arc protected by the overhanging cliff. Scraggly bushes and a few bowed trees provided more protection. As Graelam tethered Bluebell and Demon on long leads, Kassia walked around the beach.
“This was my own private place when I was a boy,” Graelam said, coming up behind her.
Kassia raised her face to the bright sun overhead and closed her eyes. The only sounds were the crashing waves and the squawking of the seabirds. “It is so peaceful,” she said, turning to face him.
“I am pleased you like it.”
“We should have brought some wine and bread.”
“Kassia,” he said suddenly, “how do you feel?”
“My lord,” she scolded him lightly, “I am as healthy as my fat Bluebell. You needn’t concern yourself further!”
“Are you sore?”
“Sore?” She cocked her head to the side, a habit she had that he found charming.
“From last night,” he said.
“Oh!” She pressed her hands against her cheeks and shook her head.
“As I said,” Graelam continued calmly, “this is a very private place. No one will disturb us here.”
She looked utterly taken aback. “You wish to . . . couple with me now?”
“Aye,” he said baldly.
“But it is daylight! You can see . . . Surely you cannot—!”
“Hush, Kassia,” he said. “Come here.”
She had not considered that her husband would wish to take her again so soon. She supposed that one coupled occasionally, when the man wished it, but . . . “I feel so stupid,” she said, and stepped against him, her head lowered against his chest.
She felt his arms go around her, pulling her more closely against him. “Why do you say that?” he said, lightly kissing the soft curls over her temple.
“You will laugh at me, I know it,” she muttered. She raised her face and felt an odd longing course through her as she stared up into her husband’s dark eyes. “I d
id not believe that one coupled frequently. Perhaps just once, to create a babe.”
He looked startled; then he squeezed her tightly until she squeaked. “Creating a babe, Kassia, usually takes a lot of effort. It is a task that most men willingly seek. And, dearling, it will be up to me to make you want to couple too, quite often.”
She looked doubtful, but did not further question him, particularly when he lowered his mouth to hers. She stood passively against him, embarrassingly aware of his large hands stroking down her back to cup beneath her buttocks. Now that she knew about a man’s desire, she knew from his hardness against her belly that he wanted her. She remembered Blanche’s taunts about Graelam sleeping with other women. If a man was always so eager to couple, was a woman, any woman, merely a convenience?
Graelam released her and gently set her aside. She watched him silently as he spread two thick blankets on the ground and smoothed them out.
Never, Graelam thought again, had he approached coupling with less enthusiasm. He was well aware that Kassia had not responded to him and it made him grind his teeth. Damn her, she could have at least pretended! On the heels of that thought, he quickly retrenched. No, he wanted no acting from her. Indeed, he was pleased that she was too ignorant to feign pleasure. It meant that when he brought her to pleasure, he would know it. Patience, he reminded himself.
He sat down on the blanket and patted the place beside him, then leaned back on his elbows and watched her approach warily and slowly.
When she eased down beside him, he did not touch her. He was surprised when she said hesitantly, “Have you known many women, my lord?”
“There is one more that I would know,” he said. He turned on his side to face her and gently drew her down onto her back. “This morning, you were not afraid of me. You were, if I am not mistaken, quite pleased with yourself over sharing my bed, over becoming a wife to me.”
“Aye, ’tis true,” she admitted, frowning at his ease in reading her thoughts. “And I do not believe that I have ever really feared you, my lord.”
“When all I wish to do is give you pleasure, it is foolish for you to do so.” He was lightly stroking her hand as he spoke. Very slowly he eased his fingers over her belly and began to gently knead her.
Kassia had closed her eyes and she knew the moment he leaned his head over hers, for he blotted out the sun. Unconsciously she ran her tongue over her lips to moisten them. She heard him suck in his breath, then felt his lips, gentle and undemanding, explore hers. He did not have to tell her to part her lips. She felt an unaccountable urge to do so. He did not ravish her mouth, merely teased her with his tongue, lightly foraging, taunting her gently.
Kassia wanted to feel more. Without thought, she raised her arm and pressed her hand along the back of his neck and pressed down. He deepened the pressure and the odd, tingly sensations she had felt briefly the night before coursed through her.
“Oh,” she whispered into his mouth. He lifted his head and smiled down at her. “Please, my lord, do not stop.”
His fingers were pressed together, lightly resting in a wedge between her thighs. “What do you want me to do, Kassia?”
Her hips jerked upward against his hand, and she blushed at what her body had done. “Everything!” she gasped.
Graelam laughed, a pure, deep sound, and hugged her against him. “You are too warm,” he said, and began to unfasten her tunic. She squirmed against him, unable to help herself. His movements were smooth and fast, and soon she was lying beneath him in naught but her thin linen shift.
For a long moment he merely stared down at her, his eyes roving from her face downward until they came to rest at her belly. Slowly he lifted her shift until she was naked to her waist. He did not mean to think her beautiful, but oddly enough, he found her so. Her legs were long and straight; he touched his hand to her white flesh and gently stroked downward. It was rare that he spent so much time seducing a woman, but he realized vaguely that somehow his own pleasure was tied to hers. Slowly, gently, he continued exploring her, then parted her thighs with his fingers. Her warm moistness made him smile triumphantly. Kassia trembled as his fingers neared the soft, hidden seat of her pleasure. But instead of giving her what she wanted, he rose suddenly and jerked off his clothes. Nearby he laid down a small jar of cream, not letting her see it.
“Sit up,” he said.
She did as he bid. He slipped her shift over her head, then pressed her again onto her back. He lay beside her, the heat of his body making her quiver, and let his fingers rove again over her belly. He kissed her, letting her deepen the pressure. He felt her hands frantically clutching at his back.
“Kassia,” he said softly, “I would love you now, and you will not say me nay, nor will you feel embarrassment or guilt.”
She stared up at him vaguely, not understanding, only knowing that her body was somehow an instrument she didn’t control. He watched her carefully as his fingers caressed her. When he dipped his fingers into the cream and slowly entered her, she gasped, her eyes flying to his face. She grasped his arm, but he merely eased more deeply into her, soothing her, easing his way.
His fingers pressed against her maidenhead, but not hard enough to hurt her. Her muscles tensed around his fingers, and he groaned at the thought of her doing that to his manhood. Damn, he thought vaguely, he had not felt such lust since he was an untried boy. He lowered himself over her, careful not to hurt her with his weight, and slowly eased down her body until he was on his knees between her parted thighs. She tried to jerk away from him when he nuzzled his face against her, but he merely tightened his hold, drawing her hips upward.
Despite what he had said, she felt consumed with embarrassment, her rising passion crushed. Surely he should not be doing that to her, not with his mouth! She tried to wriggle away from him, but he held her firm.
“Give in, Kassia,” he said, his warm breath touching her intimately. “Relax.”
Graelam teased her soft woman’s flesh, willing her to respond to him, but she did not. Time, he thought, it would take time to make her at ease with him. His lips left her reluctantly, and he felt desire roaring in his head. The softness of her, the sweet taste of her, her woman’s scent made him wild to bury himself deep within her. Slowly he parted her thighs and eased into her. The cream soothed his way.
He kept his eyes on her face. “Kassia,” he said, holding himself perfectly still.
Kassia felt the pressure of him inside her, but there was no pain, only a fullness that was not at all unpleasant. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him.
“Sweeting, I must cause you bit of . . . discomfort. Hold onto me. It will be over quickly.”
She clasped her hands around his back obediently not understanding. He tore through her taut maidenhead, seating himself to his hilt within her. He took her cry of pain into his mouth. Her body was quivering, but he knew he could not leave her, not again. He kissed away her tears, trying to concentrate on her, to keep himself in check. But it was no use. He moved slightly, feeling the tight sheath squeezing him, and that brought him over the edge. He possessed her, driving deep, rasping groans coming from his mouth.
It was many minutes before Graelam raised himself on his elbows and gazed down into her pale face. “You are mine now,” he said, and generations of possessiveness sounded in his deep, hoarse voice.
“Why did you hurt me?”
He kissed her lightly on her mouth, a slight smile curving his lips. “You were still a virgin, sweetheart.”
She blinked at him. “But last night . . . you came inside me, you . . .”
He carefully eased out of her and lay on his side beside her. “Last night,” he said slowly, “I did not finish what I started. I could not, for I was hurting you too much. That is why I brought you here today. I wanted to get the damned business over with. Kassia, did you feel any pleasure?”
She nodded.
“When next we couple, there will be only pleasure, I promise you. Will you trust me?”
“How can there be pleasure?” she managed, her eyes fastened on his chest. “You are large and will remain so.”
“ ’Twas the rending of your maidenhead that caused most of the pain, and now I promise you it is no longer there. That small barrier did not wish to allow a man within.”
“Even my husband?”
He smiled, relieved. “We will use cream until you are well used to me.”
He was stroking her tumbled hair and she turned her face to nuzzle her cheek against his palm. “Did I please you? I am so ignorant. I do not know what to do.”
“You pleased me. You will respond to me, Kassia, once you forget your embarrassment.”
“Do I not need skill, my lord?”
He thought of her killing hold on his manhood the night before, and grinned ruefully. “Aye,” he said, “I will teach you.”
“When?”
“Greedy wench!” He squeezed her tightly until she yelped for breath. “When you are no longer sore from this plowing, sweetheart.”
14
Graelam led his fatigued men into the inner bailey, a smile leaping to his eyes at the sight of Kassia, clutching her gown above her ankles so she would not trip, hurtling down the steps of the great hall toward him. He quickly dismounted, tossed Demon’s reins to the stable hand, and caught her up in his arms. He held her above his head for a moment, feeling her warm laughter flow over him like soothing balm.
“Welcome home, my lord! Did all go well at Crandall? Who is the new castellan? There was no fighting, was there? You were not hurt?”
He gave her a quick kiss and set her down, aware that every eye in the castle was enjoying their reunion. “So many questions,” he teased her softly. “Everything is fine, Kassia,” he added quickly, seeing her pale at the dried blood on his sleeve.