Rosamond stood before him stark naked, save for the magnificent jewels. She tossed her long hair back, felt it brush against her buttocks, and lifted her chin proudly. "If you will dispense with your towel, my lord earl, we can begin our mating dance."
Rod reached out a finger to trace her delicate collarbone adorned with the ruby roses, then his hands roamed over her curves until Rosamond thought she would go up in smoke. Only when he had caressed every inch of her naked skin, and her hands had explored his magnificent muscles, did he take possession of her mouth. He threaded his fingers into her hair and held her captive while his lips and his tongue
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commanded her to open for him. His other hand pressed her bottom cheeks, so that his arousal slid between her legs. With a matching rhythm of tongue and cock, he thrust slowly, sensually, teasing her in the male-female game of domination and submission.
Rosamond decided she could tease too. "If you want something, Rod, all you have to do is ask!"
"Permission to enter," he whispered, and Rosamond lifted herself so that he could slide up inside her sleek heat. When he remained motionless, she bit his shoulder. "You devil, will you make me ask for what I want?"
His green eyes dared her to put it into words.
"Rod, I think I'll scream if you don't take me!"
"You'll scream if I do," he promised wickedly. He thrust into her hard, his lovemaking suddenly savage and demanding, but Rosamond made demands of her own, and with ferocity Rod satisfied those demands. She cried out her release and collapsed against him, clinging to his powerful body, her legs suddenly too weak to support her.
Rod swept her up in his arms and carried her to their bed. He had not spent and was still rampant with sexual energy. Rosamond knew his needs, knew the extent of his lusty passion, and gloried in that knowledge. Rod watched, mesmerized, as she stretched out before him, arms above her head, arching her back enticingly. Savage desire rose up in him, hot and wild, and he knew she would match his passionate mood and yield herself completely. This coupling would be dark, primitive, rapacious, slaking their sexual hunger for each other. The next would be slow, sensual, and filled with tenderness, allowing them to express their deep, abiding love.
Between matings, they rolled together until Rosamond was above him. She sat straddling his hips, her hair wildly disheveled from their uninhibited sex play. The corners of her mouth lifted in a smile. "Countess," she said tasting the word on her tongue. "You know, I rather like this new elevated position."
He knew her words were deliberately provocative. "I'll show you a position," he threatened, setting possessive hands to her waist.
"Let me stay up here a little while longer, it makes me feel splendidly erotic." She felt him harden and lengthen, and raised herself up
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high enough to plunge down and hold him captive within her. "Gallop as hard as you like, I'll hold on tightly." She bent forward to grip his shoulders and allow her golden tresses to trail temptingly, teasingly across his chest.
"It seems you've acquired a taste for stallion riding. You will allow me on top once in a while, won't you, chérie? "
"That depends upon whether you measure up to your name or not."
"Tewkesbury?"
"The name I have in mind isn't Tewkesbury, it's Rod!"
With a ferocious growl, Rod rolled with her until he was in the male-dominant position. Then the night exploded as he mastered her with a rough, elemental mating. When Rosamond surrendered, and yielded in sweet submission, his lovemaking gentled, and she melted against him with a soft moan. Rod covered her mouth, tasting his name on her lips, knowing he would never have enough of her.
After the loving, when they were both replete, Rosamond lay enfolded in her lover's arms, with her cheek against his heart. Dreamily she thought back over the long, eventful year that had brought her to this safe, happy haven. She smiled secretly as she thought of her girlish infatuation with Rickard de Burgh. A pale emotion indeed, when compared with the consuming love she now felt for Rodger de Leyburn. The Irish warrior, with his amazing gift of second sight, had been right after all. His prophetic words floated to her from the past.
Rodger de Leyburn is best for you, Rosamond. His strength and position will give you the protection you need in the great conflict that lies ahead. It will be a rough road for all, butin the end you willnot just survive, you will flourish.
At the time, she had paid little heed to his words. In the end, she had only agreed to marry Rodger to bond him to the de Montforts, and for his strength. It had been his physical strength for which she had lusted, never dreaming that he possessed an inner strength that was worth far more than any other quality. Like his love, it was priceless. She touched her beloved's face with awe. "My darling." Her voice was as soft as velvet. His love, unconditional and absolute, surrounded and protected her with its precious magic. Like a circle, it was never-ending, infinite, like their names within her wedding ring.
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* * *
The couple's late arrival at the banquet was not without its advantages. All eyes were on Rosamond as she made a grand entrance wearing the ruby gown and magnificent jewels. She joined Eleanora, who wore white and gold as befitted a princess.
"Oh, I am so glad you are here, Rosamond ... all these people make me mix up my words."
Rosamond squeezed her hand. "You look so lovely tonight, all you need do is smile."
Rodger bowed gallantly, kissed Eleanora's hand, and took himself off to join Edward and the noblemen who surrounded him. Edward acknowledged his arrival with an amused glance that told Rod the prince knew exactly why he was late. There was much to discuss, however, and their thoughts quickly moved from pleasure to business. A date for calling Parliament had to be set, and punishment decided upon, not only for the forty prisoners taken at Evesham, who were being held at Windsor, but for the Lord Mayor of London and the city's wealthy merchants, who had staunchly supported the enemy.
Any noble who was thought to have influence with Edward Planta-genet was being deluged with petitions for land or places at court, but ambition for themselves was uppermost in his nobles' minds.
Edward was determined to restore order to the entire country. He and his lieutenants still had the responsibility for all military operations, but one by one the castles were surrendering, from Dover and the Cinque Ports to Kenilworth.
Edward himself would restore and keep order in the southern shires, while his royal cousin, Harry of Almaine, was given command of the northern provinces. It would be his responsibility to subdue any uprisings and keep the peace. Mortimer was put in charge of all the Welsh Marches, and Gilbert of Gloucester was reconfirmed in his father's earldom and vast landholdings.
Edward Plantagenet wanted no more bloodshed, but he intended to bleed dry the coffers of those who had opposed him. He set a fine of twenty thousand marks for the City of London, and each of his prisoners would forfeit his property and pay a hefty ransom in return for his
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freedom. The wealthy bishops and heads of religious houses would be summoned and allowed to buy the crown's pardon.
When the food was ready to be served, Edward took his place on the dais beside his future queen. When he indicated that Rosamond was to sit next to her, Eleanora whispered her thanks to him, then blushed when he whispered something back to her. Soon, however, he and Rodger became engrossed in conversation.
Eleanora's eyes shone with joy as they lingered on the golden head of her husband. "I am so happy to be back at Windsor with Edward; his mother the queen is not a very nice lady."
"I shall have to teach you to swear," Rosamond declared. "The queen is a bitch, and I am delighted that she and the king are to live out their days in far-off Winchester. Edward will never allow her to interfere in your marriage again."
Eleanora leaned close and whispered, "Speaking of bitches, the scandal about Alyce de Clare is on everyone's tongue. Is it true, Rosamond, that Gilbert has petitioned the c
hurch and the courts for a . . . divorce?" Eleanora hesitated over the dreaded word.
"Yes, it is perfectly true. Gilbert says the marriage was never consummated, though Alyce swears otherwise."
"I heard whispers that her ladies were worried she might... harm herself because of the terrible shame."
Rosamond laughed. "Don't you believe it. Alyce is so in love with herself, she would choose dishonor over death any day. Gilbert once threatened to kill her, but I think he has decided that covering her with shame is a much sweeter revenge. Poor Alyce, I wonder which hurts most, losing her title of Countess of Gloucester, or losing the vast wealth and castles her marriage brought her?"
"Where will she live?" asked tenderhearted Eleanora.
"Well, certainly not in England. After she's been completely humiliated, Gilbert will send her back to her father, Guy de Lusignan. He, by the way, already asked your husband to restore his estates, but Edward refused him." Rosamond had too much delicacy to tell Eleanora that Edward firmly believed England was for the English.
"I persuaded Edward to let us have dancing tonight. I want our
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court of Windsor to be filled with music and laughter. Do you like to dance, Rosamond?"
"I love to dance! What is the point of our wearing gorgeous gowns and dazzling jewels if we cannot lure the two handsomest males in the room to whirl us about the floor and make the other females green with envy?"
"We are so fortunate, Rosamond."
"Fortune favors the bold," Rosamond declared, then she leaned forward to catch her husband's eye and said, "Would you partner me in the next dance, my lord?"
An hour later, Rosamond was overjoyed to see her dearest friend, Demoiselle de Montfort, arrive quietly in the hall. She hugged her lovingly. Rosamond's heart overflowed with compassion for the lovely dark-haired girl who had so recently lost her father in battle. "Demi, what in the world are you doing here? I thought you were in France!"
They found an alcove where they could talk in private. "My mother and two brothers are in France. Lord Edward came to Dover himself to arrange their safe passage. He was most tender and considerate of my mother, allowing her to take all her furniture and personal belongings. They have gone to live on the de Montfort estates in Normandy. My father came from a wealthy and influential family, and my brothers will have the family's potent influence behind them."
"How is your mother, Demi? Simon was her life, the center of her existence. She loved him beyond reason; my heart goes out to Lady Eleanor."
"She is very strong, Rosamond. She made Lord Edward promise to restore the members of our household to their homes, and she demanded an annual pension of five hundred pounds for her dower lands, and Edward has granted it to her. Her spirit is not broken, but I fear her heart is. And nothing can mend it."
"Did Sir Rickard de Burgh accompany her to France?" Rosamond asked softly. When Demi nodded, she said, "Then Lady Eleanor's heart will heal, given time. Sir Rickard gave his pledge to her when they were very young, and he has loved her all these years. His devotion is absolute. She will always have his strength to lean upon; Sir Rickard will never fail her."
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"You were in love with him, Rosamond."
"Nay, that was a young girl's fancy. I hadn't the faintest idea what love was until I wed Rodger de Leyburn. He was my destiny, and I thank all the saints in heaven."
"I too am married, Rosamond. I was wed by proxy to Llewelyn, Prince of Wales, though I feared we would never see each other again. That is why I am here. Edward has told Llewelyn that if he comes to Windsor and signs a peace treaty with England, he may take his bride back to Wales with him."
"And will he come?"
"Oh yes," Demi said with complete conviction. "We love each other; he will come for me, Rosamond."
She squeezed her hands and kissed the Demoiselle's forehead. "I am so happy for you. Tomorrow you must come and see my son. It is so wonderful to have you here, if only for a little while."
"I must go; I only came to the hall to see if I could find you."
"Tomorrow we will spend the entire day together. You must meet Princess Eleanora; she is as sweet and lovely as you are, Demi."
After Rosamond bade her friend good night, she turned to find her husband waiting to claim her. "Are you angry that Edward is using Demoiselle de Montfort to force Llewelyn to his bidding?"
She searched his face. "They are in love. She is a willing pawn, just as I was."
"You? Willing? You were an ice maiden who set your heart against me from the very beginning," he teased. "I swear it took the longest wooing on record to thaw you to a giving mood."
Rosamond brushed against him. "The wooing isn't over, not by a long chalk!" She licked her lips provocatively in anticipation of what was to come.
"Now look what you've done to me! How the devil do you expect me to dance in this condition?"
"I think you can manage the mating dance."
He slipped a powerful arm about her, and was moving purposefully toward the door when Edward's voice stopped him.
"A moment, de Leyburn. From now on you must observe protocol when we hold formal occasions at Windsor." 325
Rodger led Rosamond before Edward and Eleanora's carved gilt chairs, and bowed his head graciously. "My lord, will you excuse Lady de Leyburn and myself?"
Edward's blue eyes narrowed, but he could not hide his amusement. "I know where you are going ... all at Windsor know where you are going. Bed, if you make it that far. You are an inconsiderate devil; I have to stay here another two hours before I can take my wife up to bed."
Eleanora hid her blushes against her husband's shoulder.
"If I were you, my lord," Rodger advised, "I wouldn't stay longer than two minutes. We bid you good night."
"Hold!" Edward leaned toward his friend and lowered his voice so none but Rod could hear. "I forbid you to get Rosamond with child again until I've had a chance to catch up!"
Once the lovers were free of the banqueting hall, Rosamond picked up her skirts and began to run. "I'll race you!"
He was after her in a flash, picking her up and swinging her high, then took the steps two at a time.
"What did Edward say to you?" she asked, breathless with laughter.
"That's a secret, chérie! Suffice it to say he issued me a challenge, one that is impossible to resist."
"You are a devil, de Leyburn!" Rosamond yielded her mouth up to him, and knew she wouldn't want him any other way.
THE END
Also by Virginia Henley:
A Woman of Passion
A Year and a Day
Dream Lover
Enslaved
Seduced
Desired
Enticed
Tempted
The Dragon and the Jewel
The Falcon and the Flower
The Hawk and the Dove
The Pirate and the Pagan
The Raven and the Rose
VIRGINIA HENLEY is the author of sixteen romantic hovels, including the New York Times bestsellers Seduced and Desired and the national bestseller A Woman of Passion. Her work has been translated into fourteen languages. A recipient of the Romantic Times Lifetime Achievement Award, she lives in St. Petersburg, Florida.
Virginia Henley, The Marriage Priza
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