Madelayne was overwhelmed with his innate response, for it was an instantaneous sexual response, much as Cairn had responded to her in their love making. She was trying to keep his hands off of her breasts but she couldn’t quite keep them both off of her, and when one wasn’t on her breast, he was grasping her bottom through her heavy robe. Every motion St. Hèver had was sexual, an innate response of a man to a woman, and Madelayne was becoming quite embarrassed as she tried to, literally, fight him off. But even as she struggled to keep his behavior proper, something else was happening, an innate sense of sexuality that surprised her.
Something she never knew she possessed.
She had just given birth but there was no mistaking the fire in her belly. She was cramping up, terribly, as he nursed at her breasts and she was torn between the pain of it and the powerful sense of lust the man seemed to spark in her. It was the oddest thing, really; she’d never experienced anything like it. The more St. Hèver suckled, the stronger the sensations became. The more she wanted him to suckle.
“Is he feeding, then?” Dolwyd asked, still over by his table.
Hugely embarrassed at what was taking place, Madelayne answered. “He… he is,” she said, grunting when he grabbed her bottom again. “But he cannot seem to keep his hands from me. He is much stronger than you think he is, Dolwyd.”
She said it with some panic in her voice and Dolwyd continued on with his medicaments. “There is nothing like a firm young lass in a man’s bed to bring him to life,” he muttered. “As long as he is feeding, give him all he will take.”
Madelayne was now trying to keep Kaspian from putting his hand between her legs, at one point, slapping his hand and yanking on a finger, nearly pulling it off of his hand, to keep him away. He simply went back to her breasts, now suckling on the left one because he’s suckled the right one dry. He seemed to have calmed down a bit at this point, simply settling in to nurse rather than trying to grab her. A bit frazzled, Madelayne sighed heavily with relief.
“He seems quite hungry,” she said, holding his head against her breast as a kind of instinctive motherly action. “It pains me when he suckles, Dolwyd.”
“Where?”
“My belly.”
The old man nodded as he measured out a cup of wine. “That is good,” he said. “It is your womb, healing itself after the birth. In a sense, St. Hèver is doing you a favor just as you are doing one for him. His suckling is bringing about the healing of your womb. It was what your child would have done, had he lived.”
Oddly enough, Madelayne was starting to see what Dolwyd had been trying to explain to her from the beginning – the benefits of this odd and somewhat embarrassing situation. Kaspian needed her and she needed him, and once he’d stopped grabbing at her, they settled in to a kind of fragile peace. Madelayne gazed down at the man as he suckled, feeling her heart flutter, just a bit.
“The pain in my belly is most strong,” she said.
“Is it uncomfortable?”
“It is bearable.”
“You will feel the pain for the next few days as your womb regains its size again.”
After that, Madelayne didn’t say much more. She continued to hold St. Hèver’s head to her breast as he nursed her dry on both breasts and finally fell into a deep and satisfied sleep. Madelayne remained next to him, wrapped up in his big arms and trapped against him, unable to move. She thought she might leave his bed and return to her own, but the truth was that she was exhausted from the day and, in fact, nestled in St. Hèver’s warm bed had her very drowsy.
She hated herself for thinking that she liked it. The only man she had ever lain next to had been Cairn and he never much allowed her to move away from him. His arms were always around her and it was something she’d become accustomed to. There was comfort there, that was true, but sometimes she didn’t want to sleep with the man all wrapped up around her. There were even times she had wished she could sleep alone, somewhere else.
Therefore, lying next to Kaspian was something of a new experience altogether. His arms around her weren’t cloying or needy; there was something strong and powerful and protective about him, even in his wounded state. And there was a scent about him… something musky and manly – that filled her nostrils in a not unpleasant way. In fact, she rather liked the smell. It was new and different.
And his warmth… aye, it was more than likely the fever that made him so warm, but, God’s Bones, there was such comfort in it. She never knew there could be such comfort in a man’s arms.
As Dolwyd continued to tinker with his medicaments and the fire in the hearth snapped and hissed, Madelayne fell asleep next to Kaspian, as fine and deep a sleep as she’d had in many a night. Somehow, sleeping next to the man brought her some comfort, as odd as it seemed.
When she awoke later on, near dawn, it was to Kaspian nursing on her again.
CHAPTER FIVE
Five days later
Kaspian was aware of a body next to him and soft, gentle singing.
So softly sings, the wind, my babe; On the wings of angels, may you sleep, my babe; God watches over you, my arms embrace you; never are you more content than now; Sleep, my lovely, sleep….
Whoever was singing had a lovely voice, but he wasn’t interested in that as much as he was the soft, warm, and small form next to him. He simply lay there, trying to orient himself and wondering who was in his bed, singing to him. He shifted slightly; his body was sore and it hurt to move. His mind, foggy, tried to recall his last memory. Something about a battle… through the mists of his brain… he remembered leaving Lavister for Beeston. Beeston! Such a brutal attack, with Welsh as plentiful as ants, swarming Beeston and the English who came to help. God, there were so many of them.
Memories came falling down upon him, pouring down like a waterfall. He well remembered the Welsh bastards who fought without honor. Surely, some of them could be skilled fighters but they fought dirty, cutting men’s legs out from underneath them and killing horses to get to the mounted riders. All signs of bastards without a speck of honor amongst them.
Bastards who had, nonetheless, managed to cut him down. He closed his eyes, remembering the spear that pierced his gut. He had removed the weapon and tried to ignore the bleeding, but bright red blood streamed from him and he knew that he had been badly wounded. With the greatest reluctance, he had turned for the rear of the battle where the wounded were being gathered. He remembered riding into the midst of the wounded and falling from his horse. He tried to walk under his own power but he couldn’t seem to do it; men were carrying him, taking him somewhere to lie down.
And then he caught a glimpse of a red-haired knight, lying dead and beaten. Cairn. Horror had swept him when he realized that Cairn had been struck down. The man was lying away from the wounded with the dead, but Kaspian had recognized him. His heart sank. And that was about the last thing he remembered until this moment. Grunting with the pain that even lifting his hand caused, he wiped at his crusty eyes.
“St. Hèver?” a soft, sweet voice floated into his ear. “Can you hear me?”
He stopped rubbing at his eyes, turning with some shock towards the sound of the voice. It was coming from that soft, petite body next to him. Just about the time he laid eyes on Lady l’Ebreux who was, in fact, in his bed, he also caught sight of Dolwyd. The old man was over near Kaspian’s work table, now evidently cluttered with the old physic’s possessions. When Dolwyd saw that Kaspian was actually looking at him, he came away from the table and towards the bed.
“So you are awake?” the old man said, sounding surprised. “I was coming to think you might never awaken. How do you feel?”
Kaspian looked at the old man, puzzled by the comment, but he was even more puzzled by the fact that Lady l’Ebreux was in his bed. He was so muddled that it was difficult to form a coherent thought and he struggled through the cobwebs.
“Weary,” he said. “I feel… very weary. And sore. I am at Lavister?”
Dolwyd nodded. “You a
re,” he said. “Your men brought you back from Beeston. You were wounded there. Do you remember anything?”
Kaspian nodded, faintly. “I remember being wounded,” he said. “I remember being taken to the wounded and I remember seeing….”
He suddenly looked at Madelayne, flicking his eyes up in her direction. He didn’t want to mention what he saw, which was Cairn’s battered body, but he was more than interested in the woman’s close proximity to him. God’s Bones, if the woman wasn’t lying in his bed! What was going on here, anyway?
Dolwyd saw where Kaspian’s attention went, straight to Madelayne. He suspected the man was hesitant to speak of the battle, and of Cairn, so he hastened to reassure him.
“Cairn came back with you as well, but there was nothing to be done for him,” he said quietly. “He has been put in Lavister’s vault. It is Lady l’Ebreux’s wish that he be buried in Shrewsbury with his sons.”
Kaspian’s brow furrowed. “Sons?”
“Cairn’s second son was born the day you were returned from Beeston,” Madelayne said. She could see the confusion in Kaspian’s dazed face. “He did not survive his birth. I wish for Cairn to be buried with both of his sons, in the yard at Shrewsbury.”
Kaspian felt a great deal of sorrow at the news. He well remembered the day they had departed for Beeston and how Cairn had lingered long enough to anger him, lingering with a pregnant wife who was frightened of birthing yet another dead son. In fact, Kaspian felt like an ogre for having been so impatient with Cairn but he’d had a battle on his mind and not a pregnant woman. Now, he was coming to regret his behavior a great deal.
“I am very sorry, Lady l’Ebreux,” he said, somewhat awkwardly. “It would seem that you have had two very unhappy events in your life recently and I am quite sorry to hear of the child’s passing. As for Cairn… I will miss him. He was a good man.”
Madelayne simply nodded her head and averted her gaze, unable or unwilling to speak more on her husband. Kaspian’s attention lingered on her for a moment, his thoughts shifting from Cairn’s death back to the fact that the woman was in his bed. Never one to skirt a subject, he looked the old physic in the eye.
“Dolwyd,” he said. “I cannot help but notice Lady l’Ebreux is lying next to me. I would assume there is a reason for this?”
Dolwyd gave him a half-grin, acknowledging the tone of his voice. As if Kaspian was both suspicious and afraid, but perhaps even interested, to know the answer to that question.
“Not for anything so scandalous, I assure you,” he said. “She has been feeding you.”
Kaspian was more puzzled than he had been before. “Feeding me?” he repeated. “I do not need for her to get into bed with me in order to feed me.”
Dolwyd nodded. “You do,” he replied. “With your belly wound, you cannot take solid food. Lady l’Ebreux has graciously been feeding you that which was meant for her child and, along with the medicines I have been giving you, I believe you are on the path to healing. The poison in your belly has diminished and you have awakened. That is the sign that your strength is returning.”
Kaspian stared at him. “Feeding me that which was meant for her…?” It suddenly occurred to him what Dolwyd meant. “Feeding me… that?”
Dolwyd snorted at the expression on Kaspian’s face. “Milk, good knight,” he said. “You have been fed milk. It is the best thing for you in your condition.”
Kaspian didn’t know what to say. He still wasn’t over the part where Cairn’s widow had been feeding him… milk from her breasts? Shocked, he turned to look at Lady l’Ebreux and suddenly, a host of murky memories collapsed around him. He thought he had been having erotic dreams of making love to a woman, nursing against her breasts, but it was coming to occur to him that perhaps those weren’t dreams at all.
Somehow, his subconscious mind had been feeding him these memories of things he had done, of what had occurred when he had been in a delirious state, and now he found himself looking at Lady l’Ebreux and thinking very naughty thoughts. Was it really true?
Had he really been suckling milk from her beautiful breasts all this time… and loving it?
He cleared his throat softly, unsure and embarrassed, noticing that Lady l’Ebreux wasn’t looking at him, either. Perhaps she was as embarrassed as he was about it. But on the other hand, she’d given him some of the more pleasurable erotic dreams he’d ever had. She was a beautiful woman, after all… stunningly so. He’d always thought that. And she was a widow, which meant she had no husband. She was unattached. And so was he. So there really wasn’t anything wrong with what she had been doing other than the fact that it was highly improper from a social standpoint. And, more than likely, from a religious one, too.
But the fact remained that she had selflessly given of herself to him, a man who had barely spoken ten words to her in the two years they had been acquainted. She had fed him the nourishment meant for the son she had so badly wanted. He’d never heard of such a sacrifice. Now, he was starting to feel rather guilty for his lack of regard for her all of this time. It hadn’t been deliberate… or had it?
Gazing at the woman, he wasn’t entirely sure that his ignorance of her hadn’t been deliberate. She was so beautiful that he knew he was attracted to her, so his lack of attention towards her was probably to keep him from thinking about her. She was, after all, Cairn’s wife. He would never violate that trust. But the truth was that she wasn’t Cairn’s wife any longer. That was over with, a barrier removed. That being the case, he wasn’t sure he could stop his interest now.
Remembering the warmth and sexual satisfaction over the past several days, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to stop anything. Out of respect for Cairn, he knew he needed to give the woman time to grieve and he fully intended to do so. But after that… he couldn’t make any promises about his attention towards her.
Caddish thoughts, but he couldn’t help it.
“Lady l’Ebreux,” he said in his deep, husky voice. “I believe gratitude is in order. What you have done for me… it is quite selfless. I do not know if I can ever thank you.”
Madelayne had been gazing off into the room, perhaps too embarrassed to look at Kaspian when he realized what she had been doing for him. As if it was a dirty secret they shared. When he spoke softly, in a tone that sent shivers up her spine, she turned to look at him.
“It was no trouble,” she said, smiling weakly. “It is what Cairn would have wanted.”
Kaspian’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “He would have wanted me to… you to…?”
He was motioning in the general direction of her chest and her smile turned genuine. “He would have wanted me to assist you in any way I could,” she said, giggling when he rolled his eyes as he realized what she meant. “Cairn always thought quite highly of you, my lord. He would have wanted me to help you.”
Kaspian gazed up at her, a faint smile on his lips. “His generosity is beyond measure,” he said quietly. “As is yours. You have my thanks.”
The gratitude was genuine and Madelayne flushed, looking away again because the expression on his face was more than gratitude; there was something warm there as well. She felt quite hot and bothered by it, but the truth was that she had spent the past five days with the man suckling at her breasts and she had come to look forward to it. He may have been delirious, but there was an innate sense in him that cuddled up to her every time she fed him, his powerful arms going about her and his heated mouth on her nipples. It had been cozy and intimate.
He would lick her, too, lapping at her nipples to harden them so he could feed. It was so incredibly personal that she was now coming to have trouble separating her duty from her want. Twice, in fact, his suckling had caused her to climax without him so much as touching the dark curls between her legs. His suckling had so highly aroused her that her sensitive body had responded in kind. Even thinking about him suckling on her made her feel warm and giddy, wanting that heady human contact. God’s Bones, it was wrong. It was so very wrong an
d she knew it. But she was coming to crave it nonetheless.
Upon the heels of those thoughts came the guilt she’d been wrestling with for five days as well, guilt over Cairn’s death. She felt horrible that she was experiencing excitement with another man so soon after Cairn’s death, even if that excitement was in the course of her attempts to help the man. She felt disrespectful to Cairn’s memory, tortured by her sexual response to St. Hèver’s mouth upon her breasts, but the fact of the matter was that Cairn never gave her such excitement. She had been fond of him, as one would be fond of a friend, but there had never been anything more than that. She’d never loved him. He’d never given her the sensations that St. Hèver had.
Still, she had to mourn the man. She couldn’t simply sully his memory by thinking lustful thoughts of another man, and her duty to Cairn, at the moment, was very strong even if her body felt no such loyalty. Therefore, she found herself in a torn and terrible position.
“St. Hèver,” Dolwyd said, breaking whatever the spell of silence between Madelayne and Kaspian held. “If you can take some nourishment now, do it. I must give you more rotten tea and it goes down easier if there is something already in your belly.”
Kaspian simply nodded, looking to Madelayne almost apologetically. She forced a wan smile. “You and I have been doing this for the better part of a week,” she said. “You were simply unaware. If it helps to close your eyes so you cannot see me, then close them.”
He frowned. “Why would I not want to see you?” he said. “Although I will admit this feels a bit… strange.”
Madelayne nodded in understanding. “I have had five days to overcome the strangeness,” she said. “You have not. I simply tell myself that Cairn would have wanted this and it is much easier for me to do my duty. Mayhap if you think the same thing, it will go easier for you as well.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to her. She was speaking as if this were a very reluctant chore, which he took as an insult. He knew he shouldn’t feel that way, but he couldn’t help it. He could see that she didn’t feel nearly the same attraction to this duty that he did so he was coming to think that perhaps she had something against him personally. She is in mourning, he told himself. Of course she would think this distasteful.