He took a step toward her and she retreated, refusing to let him come close. “I sent her to Brindisi because I learned that Italy was her home.”
Eleanor’s eyes flashed. “You expect me to believe that? Italian women have black hair!”
He was both amused and pleased that she felt so jealously possessive of him. “Not all, Eleanor. In northern Italy there are many fair-haired people. When you saw us leave Brindisi together I was escorting her home.”
She went weak with relief, but she wasn’t about to let him off the hook. She glanced about the inhospitable chamber. “I have taken a fancy to this North Tower. It overlooks the hills instead of the causeway. Mayhap I won’t return to the Caesar Tower.”
He was around the bed in a flash, scooping her up possessively. “You shall … and immediately.”
“Put me down. Damn your eyes! What is it about big men that makes them want to carry women about? I have two legs.”
“I know,” he retorted with a leer. “I’ve seen them.”
“If you think I will return to the Caesar Tower just so you can look at my legs, you can think again. For a man who is obsessed with justice for the common man, and woman,” she emphasized, “you acted out of character to incarcerate me without a trial.”
“I’ll try you now,” he offered, nipping her earlobe. “You would be the first to argue that there is nothing common about you.” His hand was already beneath her skirt, sliding up her leg as if he owned every inch of her.
“Flattery will gain you naught,” she said, squeezing her legs together to prevent him reaching his goal without resistance. “If you have come for a truce, I am willing to listen to your concessions. Mark me well—I don’t set foot outside this chamber until I have your solemn promise I shall have my own way about everything.”
“You shall have your own way. Since you don’t want to set a foot outside this chamber, I shall make love to you here.” His hands had already removed her stockings and garters.
Her protests would gain her absolutely naught, and because of it a deep thrill ran up her spine. His playfulness was infectious, and she was almost giddy with relief that the girl from Selim’s harem was safely in Italy.
Simon had had a great deal of trouble keeping away from her for a whole week, knowing all he had to do was climb to the tower and unlock the door. Now he would make up for the abstinence she had forced upon him. He finished undressing her with impatient hands and lay her down upon the bed. He reached out to spread her mass of silken hair across the pillows, just exactly the way he loved to see her best.
“Since I am allowing you your own way about absolutely everything, you had better tell me exactly what it is you want, Kathe.”
“Sim, Sim, you are a devil,” she accused, laughing up at him, but if he thought her too shy to demand what she wanted, and in graphic terms, he was in for the shock of his life.
When he had acceded to all her demands, he made some of his own just to be scrupulously fair about their equality. She lay clinging to him in wonder. Their mating in this high North Tower had been cataclysmic, and she knew Simon agreed when he whispered, “Kenilworth has over a hundred chambers and I’ve decided to make love to you in every one of them, beginning tonight in our own Caesar Tower.”
She slapped him. “You are insatiable. I intend to spend the rest of the evening with the children whom you have kept me from for a whole week.” She sat up and reached for her gown.
He knelt behind her and dipped his head to touch his lips to the nape of her neck. He knew what he had to tell her would exasperate her beyond measure and kept his hands upon her to gentle her. “You’ll have to hurry your time with the children tonight. Half the earls and barons of England are here at Kenilworth. If you will dine with me tonight, I promise it won’t deteriorate into open warfare again.”
“Oh, bugger! Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, thumping him soundly. “What must they think of me as a chatelaine? Have you shown off the library; the books of Aristotle I acquired? Did the cooks use saffron in the rice? I pray to God you have not served them that iron-flavored domestic wine.”
Simon lost no time carrying her to their own Caesar Tower now that he had diverted her. Suddenly she stopped her incessant questions and went very still. Her eyes widened as realization dawned. “Simon, what’s going on? Why are they here?” Her voice had gone husky with apprehension.
He touched his lips to hers. “Don’t worry your pretty head about such things.”
“Simon, don’t do this. Don’t patronize me. I want to be your partner, not just your plaything.”
He looked down at her lovely face. Their eyes met and held. Finally he nodded. “I will tell you all … in bed tonight.” He set her feet to the rug. “Have the servants build us a fire up here. There are promises I made myself that I intend to keep.”
She shuddered as a curl of desire spiraled from deep within her belly up to her breasts. As he left she heard him chuckle. “Jealous, begod!”
She stared at the doorway long after he had gone. He was the most physically magnificent man she had ever laid eyes upon. She was willing to bet that every female who had ever seen him had longed to know what it would feel like to be made love to by the war god. It was nothing so tame as jealousy she had experienced. It was like being consumed by the burning fires of hell.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and was appalled. She summoned her women and began issuing orders like a general, then she sent for the children so she could enjoy giving them their nightly bath before she took her own. The moment she was dressed she descended upon the kitchens and the buttery, giving her household clear and concise instructions about the food and wine. She spoke with the housekeeper in charge of linens to assure herself the guest chambers were plenished each day with fresh linens, candles, and refreshments. She ordered her Welsh minstrels to play at dinner and even selected the ballads that were to be sung. She sent half a dozen pages scurrying with messages: one to Jack at the bathhouse telling him to keep hot water available around the clock. She advised Hicke the tailor that their guests might need his services for small repairs to their wardrobes. She sent a note to the chapel informing the priest that the doors must not be locked after compline. She supposed Simon had spoken with the stable grooms about keeping mounts ready for hunting, but just in case she sent a squire with a reminder, then bade him go above to the mews to tell the falconer his birds of prey must be put on half rations to make them hungry for the kill. She stood absolutely still for a moment and counted off on her fingers the items that she thought needed her attention, then just to be on the safe side, she sent word to her breweress to double her order for ale this week.
Seemingly without effort she managed to be in the dining hall to greet each visiting noble as he arrived for dinner. She looked deliciously feminine in pale peach velvet trimmed with delicate swansdown. Eleanor knew the power of color. When she wanted to steal the limelight from other women, she wore red or another brilliant jewel tone; when she wanted to assert her authority, she wore black or something equally dark. Tonight she wished to make men’s hearts melt; hence the pastel gown.
Simon de Montfort’s heart filled with pride as he joined his exquisite wife to greet their guests. She had a way of running her eyes over a man’s frame that made him feel all male. She aroused the wish to protect her in a man, so that he envied de Montfort his role. She dazzled each man with her smile, which seemed for him alone, and her whispered inquiries about his comfort and needs emphasized his importance in her eyes.
She moved graciously from group to group and if any there were not in de Montfort’s pocket when they entered the hall, they were by the time they retired to bed.
It was late when they climbed to their impregnable Caesar Tower. “Thank you. You have a magic touch. Until tonight the hall was like bedlam. The beef was tough, the dogs slavered, the men got drunk. Petty quarrels broke out so that no man could agree with another.”
She shrugged prettily,
pleased with the praise. “It required only my presence.”
Simon’s deft fingers unfastened her gown, then he quickly disrobed and stretched his length upon the bed with his arms behind his head. She removed the gown, hung it in the wardrobe, then sat down in her filmy shift to brush her hair.
“Do that after. Why waste your energy when I’ll soon have it in a tangle?” he said impatiently.
“After? Oh, you mean after our talk.”
Simon groaned. She laid down her ivory brush and lifted her leg to slowly remove a garter.
“I am not a lap dog to receive my reward after I have done my mistress’s bidding,” he told her.
“Are you not?” she purred, lifting her leg higher seemingly to peel the stocking from it.
“Admit it, your need is almost as hot as mine,” he said.
Hotter, she admitted to herself. That is why he must begin his talking before his loving or she was lost.
His eyes followed her hands as she removed the other stocking; then his mouth slackened as she lifted off her shift allowing her breasts to spill free. They bounced deliciously as she came to the bed, but once she turned down the sheet she danced away again and picked up the ivory brush. She walked to the fire and informed him, “I am listening.” Playfully she began to brush the curls on the black, silk triangle between her legs.
His mind went blank. He had no idea what she wanted to hear. He licked dry lips. “Christ, stop that before I spill myself on the sheets.”
She made a provocative moue with her lips. “You had better have more staying power than that if you intend to play with me.”
He came up off the bed, lifted her off her feet, and sprawled with her before the fire. She scrambled to her knees, laughing, but before she could elude him, he came up behind her and enfolded her in his arms. He spread his knees and pulled her tight against his groin. She could feel his heavy testes resting against her bottom cheeks and feel his erection reaching halfway up her back. She rubbed against him teasingly, and he brought his palms up beneath her breasts to lift and thrust them forward toward the heat of the fire. “I like to warm your parts before I taste them.” He held her there until her nipples almost burned his fingers, then he spread her thighs apart to heat her mons.
She moaned low in her throat. “Sim, Sim, you promised you’d talk to me.” At this moment her rosebud was on fire and she knew she didn’t want to talk.
“Kathe, I promise, I promise, only let me do this first. I swear my brain is empty, all the blood has gone to my cock.”
“All right,” she agreed, “just let me hold you to the fire for a minute.” She groaned as her hand closed about his erection. She wanted to scream from excitement, then when he positioned her on the wolf pelt before the fire and plunged into her he felt like a red-hot poker and she did scream. He too cried out with passion as their scalding flesh melded together. They both lost control as their hot climaxes spurted and mingled. Her lashes fluttered to her cheeks and she felt herself drift off to Paradise.
Simon watched the fireshine dance across her beautiful body and knew this was the closest to heaven he’d ever get. He rested in her a long, magical time. When he finally withdrew he got no reaction from her, no usual murmur of protest. Had he slaked her? Was she pretending sleep? He sat up, but she lay on her back, sprawled in silken splendor, not moving an eyelash. He dipped his head to lick the pearly drops on the inside of her thighs and she cried, “Simon de Montfort, the things you do to me are too intimate. Is there nothing you won’t try?”
“I wouldn’t dream of doing this,” he whispered, demonstrating totally immoral behavior.
She shrieked and he carried her to their oversized bed. He straddled her so that his long, hard shaft lay in the cleft between her breasts. She dipped her head to kiss its vermilion tip and giggled as it bucked and jerked each time her lips or tongue grazed across the smooth surface. “Simon, no more. Lie down beside me and hold me.” He complied immediately. This quiet time after they had made love was precious to them. She lay with her cheek resting upon his heart and pressed her lips to the spot, feeling happier than she had since the first blissful night they had spent at Kenilworth.
Suddenly they became aware that they were not alone.
“I heard Mommy laughing,” a small voice said.
“Ah, you want to join the fun,” Simon said. “Come on, then, I know how tempting this big bed is.”
Eleanor whispered, “Simon, I’m nude.”
“Mmm.” He pondered. “That is easily solved,” he said, lifting off his son’s nightshirt. “To sleep in this bed you have to be naked.”
Henry giggled as Simon lifted him on the wide bed, and he slid down rapturously between his mother and father’s naked bodies.
“Don’t tickle me.” He laughed.
“I won’t,” his father solemnly promised, “not unless you start it.”
“Don’t teach him to be uncivilized, Simon,” Eleanor said.
Simon hooted. “Listen to who’s talking! Let me tell you about the time your mother swam in the mere without any clothes on, in broad daylight,” he added wickedly.
Just then they all heard the baby begin to cry. “That’s Simon,” their son informed them.
Eleanor looked helplessly at her husband. “Go on, get him too. Let’s all be together.”
Eleanor slipped into the nursery not bothering with a robe. Kate was just stirring sleepily. “It’s all right, Kate, I’ll take him.” She climbed back into the warm bed and tucked the baby beside her.
“Let me have him,” Simon said.
“No, you great brute, you’d roll on him in your sleep and smother him.” She laughed.
“Before we are done, we’ll fill this whole bed,” Simon promised. He reached for her hand and their fingers entwined.
“Are you ready to talk to me?” Eleanor asked.
Simon sighed. “When a woman’s mind is on politics, she makes a dull bed partner.” He squeezed her hand, feeling more fortunate than any man had a right to feel. “I agreed to help Henry on condition I had a say in things from now on. I had been most remiss in my duty, darling. I had more than a suspicion that your husband William was murdered by Winchester, and of course he orchestrated our exile. Henry finally agreed to investigate him and he fled immediately.”
“But William died in bed right after Richard and his sister Isabella were wed. Do you mean he was poisoned?” She had often wondered.
“I’m afraid so, my sweet. His brothers have all suffered the same fate.”
“How could Henry be so blind to such wickedness?” she cried.
“How indeed?” he said dryly. “You will be happy to learn that I was able to repay Rickard for his loyalty. I restored Hubert de Burgh to favor. Henry has pardoned him.”
She squeezed his hand. “Your time has been well spent, it seems. I am so thankful you didn’t have to fight in France. Thank God a truce was signed.”
He could not bring himself to tell her there would be fighting ahead.
She laughed at an amusing thought. “I must say it seems an unlikely team. A spirited warhorse like you in double harness with Henry, sharing power.”
An impossibility, Simon thought silently. She would learn soon enough he’d been appointed to lead the opposition to the crown. Let them have a few days of happiness together before she learned that lines were being drawn with Plantagenets on one side and de Montfort supporters on the other.
As Eleanor drifted off to sleep something nameless in the back of her mind nagged at her. She pushed it resolutely away to savor the precious moment here in the big bed with all her men. Her happiness was perfect. Her husband loved her above all things, and they were all together at Kenilworth where the outside world could never touch them.
47
It was not until days later when their guests had departed and Simon had left for the Hocktide Parliament that Eleanor realized he had never explained the presence of the barons. As she reflected, her common sense told her they had b
een there to hatch a plot. She had absently noticed that Simon had left Kenilworth heavily fortified. Now she suspected it was not done to give her peace of mind. He had fortified Kenilworth against an enemy, and pray who could that be other than the King of England?
The day was overcast and oppressive. Dark shadows loomed everywhere, especially in Eleanor’s mind. She was filled with apprehension and she wished fervently that she had gone with Simon. If trouble arose between her brother and her husband, she was the only one who could smooth things over between them. She found she could settle to nothing, she was restless as a tigress.
Late in the day a steward rode in from de Montfort’s holdings in Leicester. He was sorely distressed that the earl had departed.
“It is obvious there is a problem. You must confide it to me. The Earl of Leicester leaves me in charge whenever he is absent. I even sit and pass judgment in our own courts of law here in Kenilworth,” said Eleanor.
The steward, red-faced from anger and embarrassment that he must give details of the sordid business to a lady, finally blurted out what had happened. “William of Valence, my lady, thinks he is above the law. He and his attendants stopped at Leicester after a day’s hunting to demand refreshment. When they were given ale they deemed it an insult. They used unnecessary force to break into the cellars and break open the wine casks. They were drunk and out of control …” The steward’s voice trailed off and he hesitated to tell the rest.
“The Savoys are hated by all, and with good reason. They are rapacious by nature. I know that William is a particular favorite of the king, but that does not give him license to commit abominations.”
Suddenly the steward felt he was on firmer ground and poured out the appalling details. “When the servants tried to prevent destruction to the earl’s property, fighting broke out and two of our people were killed. No remorse was shown. The looters went on to rape the maids and smash all the casks in the cellars with axes.”