Lynx spent most of the afternoon with his men-at-arms and Welsh bowmen. They were a long way from home and he greeted each and every man in his mesne and wished him good fortune in the coming year. Meanwhile in the hall his knights, the Bruces, and the ladies were playing games presided over by the Lord of Misrule, who made sure that the hijinks left their dignity in shreds.
When Lynx came into the hall he saw that Jane was blindfolded, with a circle of men about her, in the middle of a game of Blindman’s Bluff. Thinking to join in the fun, he walked a direct path to her and lifted her high.
Jane immediately knew it was Lynx who held her feet off the floor, for he was the tallest man in Dumfries. Jane’s wicked juices were bubbling and she couldn’t resist the urge to tease him. “Robert,” she squealed, “you’ve had enough kisses!”
She felt Lynx stiffen as he set her feet to the floor and lifted the silk mask from her eyes. “Robert has been kissing you?” he demanded in a hurt tone.
Jane took pity on him. “Lynx, I’m teasing … I knew it was you!” She dimpled. “But Robert is a devil with the ladies, he even dragged Megotta under the mistletoe!”
Lynx took her hand to lead her to a chair on the dais. “Come and have a rest, you are giddy and breathless.”
“Just for a moment,” she conceded sweetly. “But some of your Welshmen are putting on a magic show and they’ve promised to reveal some of their secrets to me.” She was elusive as quicksilver and as he gazed at her, he pondered what it was that was making his desire for her mount higher by the minute.
In the brilliant fuchsia velvet, with her red-gold hair tumbling about her like a blaze of fire, she was vividly beautiful, but that wasn’t the mysterious essence that captivated him and every other male who had crowded about her all day. An aura of joy and happiness surrounded her as she was caught up in the excitement of the celebration and she seemed determined to wring every ounce of pleasure from the festivities.
It wasn’t until the evening meal was over and the dancing well under way that it began to dawn on Lynx what her fatal attraction was. For over an hour he hadn’t been able to take his eyes from her, as one man after another competed to partner her, to tease and flirt with her, their only reward a brilliant smile, or a brief glimpse of her elusive dimples. Suddenly he understood what it was that had made his mounting desire for her turn to raging lust.
It was her innocence!
Here was a young girl who had never worn a jewel, nor painted her face in her life. Until recently she had never even owned a pretty gown. She was so innocent, that even though she was a mother, she was not yet a woman! Her female sexuality had not yet been awakened. He had mated with her for the sole purpose of procreating, but she had never been taught that sex could be for pleasure.
All that lay before her! And every man in the hall sensed it and longed to be the one who would introduce her to sensuality. And the thing that made her so tempting and enticing was the fact that she was ripe and ready without even knowing it! Jane was flirtatious and saucy, desirable and seductive, exotic and tantalizing. She was as alluring and provocative as Jory de Warenne, but with the added fillip of innocence, which made her both titillating and utterly irresistible.
Watching Jane had aroused him so much that he could not dance, he could not even walk. All Lynx could do was sit and observe her until the dancing was over and it was time to open the last gifts.
Lynx watched Jane’s face suffuse with pleasure as she opened gift after gift for the baby. His knights had outdone themselves, gifting his son with silver rattles and inscribed silver mugs. There were gold medallions commemorating his birth and miniature swords and shields bearing the de Warenne coat of arms. The Welsh archers, who were extremely clever with their hands, had carved toys for the child, including a great wooden rocking horse and a whole army of soldiers guarding a wooden castle. They had also stuffed toy animals with wool and covered them with sleek otter skin.
Lynx kept his present until last. He wanted to see her face light up with joy when she saw the beautiful gown. He watched her fingers begin to tremble as she realized that the gift he had given her was not for the child, but for herself. The gown was made of rustling taffeta in shimmering viridescent green, shot with blue, constantly changing color with the light. It had a high collar at the back and a plunging neckline in front. To enhance the breasts, its bodice was encrusted with emerald and turquoise beads.
Lynx threw Jory a quick glance of gratitude, then his eyes were irresistibly drawn back to Jane’s face, as he watched a look of pure rapture transform it.
Still clutching the gown, she went down on her knees before him. “My dearest lord, did you really choose this for me?”
Lynx saw the teardrops clinging to her lashes and suddenly wished with all his heart that he had chosen the gown. He took her hands and raised her for his kiss. “Jane, do not kneel to me, you have given me my heart’s desire.” In that moment he determined that tomorrow he would search all of Dumfries until he found a gift worthy of her.
A long procession climbed the stairs of the Master Tower, led by Grace Murray carrying the baby and his squires and castle servants carrying up the gifts. Lynx followed Jane, barely able to bank the fires of his desire until they could be alone. He watched her hang her precious new gown in the wardrobe with loving hands, then he helped her remove the fuchsia velvet dress that had made her so vividly beautiful today. His hands cupped her soft shoulders possessively as he waited with barely concealed impatience for the last maidservant to leave.
Lynx had forgotten that Jane would have to feed his son. He sat down on the bed to watch her lavish her baby with love and attention. Finally, when she had fed him and tended to all his needs, she laid him down beside his father and climbed onto the wide bed.
“At long last I have you to myself,” she murmured. She touched the tawny tufts on his head then traced her fingertips along his cheek. “Who is the most beautiful boy in all the world?” she whispered, totally engrossed.
As the baby gurgled and waved his tiny fists about, Lynx knew Jane had eyes only for her child; all his waiting had been in vain. With resignation he dropped a kiss on her head and then one on his son’s. “Get some rest, Jane. Tomorrow the celebration begins all over again.”
The rejoicing, mirth, and gaiety went on for three more days. The high spirits of the castle people and the townspeople of Dumfries never flagged. Finally it was time to christen the baby, and as the celebrants packed inside the tiny chapel, the atmosphere was jubilant. Lynx de Warenne, with his firstborn in his arms and Lady Jane standing beside him, looked and felt triumphant.
Robert Bruce stood as the child’s godfather, and Jory his godmother. The priest let each of them hold the infant for a special baptismal blessing, before formally christening him Lincoln Robert de Warenne. Then the godfather, carrying the child, led the procession through the castle and down to the hall.
Lynx saw his sister, Jory, wipe away a tear and he slipped a comforting arm about her. He looked down into her green eyes, so like his own, and murmured, “Thank you, I know how difficult that must have been for you.”
Jory dashed away another tear. “Why difficult?” she demanded, ready with a denial.
“Because I know you would give anything to have his child.”
Jory closed her eyes. “We’ve been so careful; how did you know?” she whispered.
“There is little about the Bruce that I don’t know, Jory.” He hugged her close, then tipped her face up so that their eyes could meet again. “He’ll not wed you, Jory. His driving ambition to be King of Scotland stands in the way. The people would never accept an English queen.”
“I know that, Lynx. I live for today; I’m not greedy enough to want tomorrow also.”
That night in the hall a Welsh minstrel held them all in thrall with his epic tale of Beowulf. Lynx watched Jane’s delight as she listened spellbound to the mythic tale, accompanied by the haunting notes of the minstrel’s harp. Lynx became aware that h
e wasn’t the only man who watched her. His squire Taffy imagined himself in love, and at least two of his younger knights paid constant homage to her. During the last few days of observing her, he had seen that the glances of many of his Welsh bowmen were openly covetous and smoldering whenever they fixed upon her.
Along with his desire, a feeling of possessiveness was growing within him. It was a new emotion for Lynx. Though he was not much given to introspection, Lynx admitted to himself that these feelings were prompted by jealousy as well as lust. He almost resented it when Jane bestowed her sweet smile upon another, or when she shared a moment of laughter that excluded him.
During the past week he had grown to begrudge the innocent kisses she received beneath the mistletoe and had begun to crave them for himself. Lynx knew that he could not go on in this aroused state any longer. He would erupt into violence if one more man so much as looked at her. Tonight he would put his mark upon her so that from this night forward she would be his alone.
His eyes licked over her as she came toward him. She was wearing a pink lamb’s-wool gown that clung to every curve of her body. The silver chain that Jory had given her was fastened cunningly about her hips, so that its single ruby sat upon her high mons, tempting every male eye. Damn Jory, she had taught Jane too many tricks! It was time for him to take over as her tutor to teach her the things that would awaken her slumbering sensuality and fulfill her as a woman. It was time for him to take possession.
Jane held out a small package; a shy smile accompanied it. “I was very hesitant about giving you this because our beliefs are different. But it is a gift from the heart. You have given me so much, my lord; this is one of the few things I can give in return.”
“Jane, you have given me a son … you have given me immortality. It is I who must gift you.” He took a big box from beneath his carved chair and they exchanged presents. Lynx slipped the Celtic touchstone from its leather pouch and gazed with delight at the image of the proud lynx she had painted for him. It was in full flight, ready to pounce upon its prey, and it reminded him of himself.
“Thank you, Jane, I shall wear it with pride.” He watched her face intently as she unwrapped the gift he had had made especially for her. Tonight he wanted to bring her more pleasure than she had ever known.
She gasped as she held up the emerald velvet cloak, lined with silver fox. “Oh, Lynx, it’s magnificent!” She held it out to him. “Help me try it on.”
“No!” He drew her close, then bent his head until his lips touched her ear. “When you try on your very first fur, I want you to be naked so that you will experience the luxurious, sensual softness against your skin.”
Jane’s lashes lifted in surprise. The corners of her mouth went up, revealing her dimples. “Do you often get what you want, my lord?”
“Always.” His green eyes purposefully filled with wild surmise to set her all ashiver.
25
Lynx de Warenne signaled Grace Murray to carry his son upstairs, knowing full well that Jane would immediately retire. He bade the company good night, pitying the poor devils who would amuse themselves with their dice half the night and made his way to the Master Tower.
He stayed in Jane’s chambers only long enough to retrieve his black velvet bedrobe, but she didn’t even notice. As usual, Jane only had eyes for her son once she had him to herself. In his own chamber, Lynx stripped, bathed, and donned his favorite robe, allowing Jane ample time to feed his son. Then he opened the door at the top of the stairs that led to the chamber below and stood quietly observing the maternal scene.
Grace stood by with a fatuous look on her face as Jane cuddled, kissed, and cooed at the baby, far too absorbed in her motherly ministrations to be aware of the man who looked down at her with hungry eyes. When he spoke, his deep voice startled her.
“That young cub takes up every living, breathing moment of your time. You lavish all your attention upon him. His father would like some of that attention. Grace will stay with him tonight, while you come up here where you belong.” Having delivered his ultimatum, Lynx withdrew inside his chamber.
Jane handed the baby over to Grace, then moved hesitantly to the foot of the stairs. She gazed up into the shadows, pondering what had just happened. Her pulse quickened with excitement. So, it hadn’t been her imagination after all. During the past week, Lynx had hardly taken his eyes from her as she flirted outrageously with all the males who had conspired to lavish her with their attention. She had followed Jory’s advice meticulously and at last it was going to pay off. For the first time Lynx de Warenne was seeing her not as the mother of his child, but as a female in her own right … a desirable female from the hunger she heard in his voice.
Jane glanced questioningly at Grace Murray. The nursemaid waved her hand, urging Jane to mount the staircase. “Go, go!”
With her heart hammering inside her chest, Jane took the first two steps slowly, tentatively. Suddenly she turned, ran back across the chamber, and picked up her fur cloak. Then with eager steps, she climbed the stairs to do her lord’s bidding.
Jane secured the door, then turned to face him, breathless from her eager climb. Her breath deserted her entirely when she saw him clad in the robe. As his eyes fell on the fur she had brought up with her, he smiled in approval and held out a powerful hand. “Come to me. It is time we got to know each other … intimately.”
His voice had the same black velvety texture as the robe she adored. Jane’s heart turned over in her breast. How long had she waited for this moment? A lifetime? An eternity? It seemed she had waited forever and a day, but at last the night had finally come.
“Have you enjoyed the weeklong celebration, Jane?”
“Oh yes, it has been the happiest time of my life.”
He took the cloak from her and laid it aside. Then he took hold of her hands and raised them, one at a time, to his lips. “For me also, and you are the one who is responsible for bringing me the pleasure I’ve enjoyed. I want to repay that pleasure. Tonight is for you alone.” His glance lingered on her lips, her breasts, then lowered to the ruby. “Have you the faintest notion how tempting you look?”
Jane thought she had a vague idea, until he drew her to the mirror and described what she looked like in his eyes. “Look at your face. Your eyes are like brown velvet pansies and your slanting cheekbones make you look like a witch at her enchanting. When you glance at me sideways or over your shoulder, I want to follow you to paradise.
“When you are happy or when you wish to tease me, the corners of your mouth lift and I find myself holding my breath, hoping that your elusive dimples make an appearance. The shape of your lips is utterly wanton.” He ran his thumb along the fullness of her lower lip. “Your mouth makes a little moue when you concentrate upon my words, and I am left wondering if you want to spit on me or kiss me.”
Jane’s cheeks tinted pink with pleasure. She had known he was watching her, but hadn’t the faintest idea that he saw her in such minute detail.
“A woman’s hair is one of the things that attracts a man and holds him in thrall. Your long, silken mass floats about you, whispering in your ear, clinging to your shoulders, sometimes caressing your breasts or curling about your waist; always brushing and caressing your back. It makes me want to play with it. It makes my fingers ache to touch you as possessively as it touches you. It conjures visions of lying with you and becoming erotically entangled in it.” Lynx threaded his fingers into her hair, lifted it high, then let it fall about her like a waterfall.
“This soft wool dress clings to your breasts so cunningly, it has been more arousing to me today than if you had walked about naked.” He moved behind her so that he could cover the upthrusting globes with his palms. Jane watched in fascination as her nipples peaked and stood out jewel-hard. She gasped with delight as his thumbs brushed over the sensitive tips.
“And now we come to the heart of the matter. Your woman’s center is decorated with a ruby! It has winked at me, teased me, taunted me, and tempte
d me to madness the entire day. Even in the chapel, or I should say especially in the chapel. I wanted to lay you on the altar and sacrifice myself upon you.”
His bold hands moved down the curves of her rib cage, down across her belly, and came to rest upon her hips. Then he pulled her back against his hard length to let her know the marked effect she had on his body. “I have been waiting over twelve hours to get you out of this provocative dress. Who said I wasn’t a patient man?”
As his fingers undid the tiny buttons down the back, his lips traced the satiny flesh that covered her spine. Jane shivered over and over as his mouth went lower. One moment her skin was on fire, the next, icy cold. The effect he had on her was intoxicating and she adored every moment of it. Please God, don’t let him stop!
But Lynx had no intention of stopping; he had only just begun. When he removed her gown, along with its silver chain, he laid them aside with reverence. “We must never let anything happen to this pink lamb’s wool or the magic jewel.”
Jane stood mesmerized by their reflection in the mirror. Her fine lawn shift was in startling contrast to his black-clad body towering behind her. She watched his hands pull up her shift inch by inch to reveal her creamy thighs. “The only time I’ve ever seen you completely naked, you were full term with my child. I found you absolutely beautiful that night, so can you imagine the effect your slim body is having on me tonight?”
She gave him a sideways glance up over her shoulder and Lynx groaned at the impact she had on his arousal. She could not have been more seductive if she had been an experienced courtesan. The shift followed the gown and Jane stood absolutely still while he looked his fill. She knew if he touched her bare flesh she would scream with excitement, but Lynx did not touch her. He simply stared at her reflection hungrily, devouring her with his eyes.
She held her breath as she saw him reach for the emerald cloak. When the fur touched her nude flesh, Jane gasped then moaned at the silken torment she experienced. The nerve endings over her entire body were heightened by her arousal. Beneath the silver fur her skin felt like hot silk and she began to quiver.