“They are,” she said, smiling weakly. “No more kicking and snoring for me tonight, at least for the time being.”
He snorted softly. “That is a good thing,” he said. Then, his smile faded as he glanced around the darkened, musty room. “Lys, you did not have to invite me down here after… well, after what happened in the garden. I have no such expectations, nor would I ever suggest something more intimate than what we’ve already done. I do not want you to feel as if I have pushed myself upon you.”
Lysabel was shaking her head before he even finished. “This is my suggestion, Trenton,” she said. “I… I do not know why I suggested it, only that it seemed right. When you kissed me in the garden, it seemed so right and natural to me, as if it was always meant to be. I have spent my life being revolted by a man’s kiss, but tonight… you changed that. One kiss, and you have changed every perception I have ever had.”
It wasn’t that Trenton didn’t want to bed her. In fact, in the flickering light of the chamber, with one small taper throwing out golden light onto the four walls, he could see a pallet on the ground, a neat collection of blankets fashioned into a bed. He didn’t know if the pallet had already been here or if Lysabel had made it. He could very easily throw her down upon it and ravage her, but he didn’t want her to think that his flesh against hers was the only thing he had in mind. What he felt ran much deeper than that.
“But it was just one kiss,” he said, his eyes glimmering at her. “There will be many more to come, God willing. One kiss and I do not expect you to do… this.”
Lysabel’s warm expression faded. Then, her features dropped entirely. “I see,” she said, lowering her gaze. “Then I have made a fool of myself. I am sorry, Trenton. I did not mean for you to feel obligated when that was not what you had in mind.”
He went to her, quickly. “I do not feel obligated,” he assured her. “Believe me, I would like nothing better. But you seemed so hesitant in the garden that I do not want you to think that I expect this. I don’t, you know. I am happy to do whatever you wish to do, even if it is to simply sit and talk.”
Lysabel looked up at him, feeling her stomach quiver, knowing that she wanted to feel as he’d made her feel in the garden. Like a wildfire, those sensations had consumed her and she wanted to taste more, to taste something she’d never before known. It was curiosity, it was desire, but it was also something more – it was the way her heart felt when he had touched her.
Magic.
It was bold and reckless of her, but she didn’t care.
“I wish for you to kiss me,” she whispered.
He sighed quietly; she could hear him. “Are you certain?”
“Never more certain of anything.”
Trenton didn’t say another word. His arms went around her and he pulled her against his body, planting a soft, warm kiss on her mouth and feeling her succumb to him almost instantly. There was no hesitation or reservation, as if she were surrendering completely. In fact, she began to grow aggressive, wrapping her arms around his neck and snaking her tongue into his mouth because that was what he’d done to her, out in the garden. Trenton groaned, instantly aroused.
He was overwhelmed by her.
More than twice Lysabel’s size, Trenton used that strength to pick her up, holding her tightly against him. He tasted her lips, her flesh, his mouth moving across her cheek to her tender earlobe. Her skin, so pale and soft, was sweet and delicious. He suckled on a tender earlobe, listening to her gasp with delight.
Lysabel was wearing a surcoat with a neckline that displayed the swell of her breasts, and Trenton’s mouth moved all over her cleavage, suckling and gently licking, before returning to her mouth and kissing her deeply. As he did so, his right hand moved to her left breast, very gently cupping it. When she didn’t stop him, he squeezed harder. As she’d done in the garden, Lysabel quickly unfastened the ties that held the surcoat snug on her body, shimmying as if to shake it right off her. As her mouth fused to Trenton’s again, she went to work on his belted tunic.
Trenton was on fire. He helped Lysabel untie his tunic, so impatient at one point that he ended up ripping a tie when he yanked at it. His mouth was on hers, his hands on her naked flesh as he found himself making the most logical move he could think of – he had her up in his arms and moved for the pallet behind them.
Lysabel was all wrapped up around him, kissing the man as she’d never kissed anyone in her life. His masculinity, his charm, and his power had her drowning in him. For a woman who had never shown any aggression in the bedchamber, a single kiss from Trenton had changed all of that. Now, she was coming alive.
Swept away…
Trenton laid Lysabel down on the pallet, lying down right on top of her. He pulled her shift free, his big hands coming into contact with her full, sweet breasts, his mouth capturing a nipple. Lysabel groaned as he suckled her and she began reaching for his breeches. Trenton felt her fumbling and he moved to help her, pulling them down to his knees. He still had his boots on and he didn’t want to stop to remove them; liquid fire in his veins was preventing him from stopping their momentum, even a little bit. But once his hose came down, and she was nude beneath him, he planted his face in between her legs and pleasured her.
Lysabel cried out softly as he licked her mercilessly. His mouth, his hands, were doing wicked things to her, things she had never experienced. The extent of Benoit’s lovemaking had been hard and demanding, and at this moment, Lysabel understood what it meant to have a man love her. She never could have imagined the joy of it, and she desperately wanted to feel him within her. Trenton didn’t make her wait long; his tongue had manipulated her to the verge of a release but stopped short of it. He lifted himself up over her quivering, supple body and mounted her.
Lysabel gasped as he thrust into her. Trenton was a big man and his manhood was proportionate, and she felt every inch as he drove it into her. She responded to him eagerly, her pelvis moving against his, meeting his thrusts, feeling sparks fly every time he plunged deep. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him down to her and slanted her lips over his as he continued to thrust.
She was still kissing him deeply as she climaxed for the first time in her life, and Trenton’s mouth absorbed the swift pants of pleasure. As wildly aroused as he was, he kept his focus, bringing her to another climax a few minutes later. After that, he couldn’t control himself and when he felt himself peaking, he didn’t try to stop it. It was such a glorious orgasm that he nearly lost consciousness.
It was everything he knew it would be.
But Lysabel apparently wasn’t finished. She was grinding her wet heat against him, seeking his spent manhood that was still partially engorged. Knowing what she wanted without her asking, Trenton plunged back into her wet body and felt her climax yet again. He didn’t think it was possible for him to grow hard again so soon, but it was literally minutes before he was rock-hard again, thrusting into her and loving every moment of it.
He couldn’t get enough of her.
It was like a dream, a little piece of heaven that he had never known to exist. A dream where he was making love to a woman he adored, and a woman who adored him in return. Lysabel was touching him everywhere, curiously and gently, and in little time he climaxed so hard that, this time, he bit his tongue.
It was the most amazing sexual experience he’d ever had.
Eventually, Trenton fell against her, his body still embedded in hers as she lay beneath him. He lay there with his arms around her, holding her fast and close, thinking on how his life was going to change from this point on. He’d been wildly attracted to Lysabel since nearly the beginning, but now there was something more involved. He’d claimed her, physically.
The intimate act between them sealed it.
In fact, he knew he loved her. He couldn’t remember when he hadn’t. He’d been lying to himself if he thought it was anything else other than love, so he simply lay there and held her, savoring every moment as if it was the best one he
had ever lived.
It took Trenton a few minutes to realize that Lysabel had fallen asleep in his arms. The woman who didn’t seem to sleep very well, or so she’d told him, was now fast asleep, warm and safe for probably the first time in her adult life. Her soft, sweet snores filled the air. With a grin, he tightened his grip around her, holding her close.
Before sunrise, they parted with kisses and soft words, and even as Trenton watched Lysabel walk away, heading up the stairs and into the main part of Wellesbourne’s keep, he knew one thing: it had been the best night of his life.
And he knew he would never let her go.
CHAPTER NINE
“What are you looking at?”
The question came from Alixandrea. It was a warm and bright morning, the weather excellent for almost any manner of activity. At the moment, Matthew was standing in his solar, watching something in the bailey from one of the three long lancet windows in the chamber. As his wife came near to see what he was looking at, he pointed out of the window.
“Cinny and Cissy are riding their ponies,” he said. “I was attending to tasks this morning when I started to hear the laughter. Can you see them? Lys is with them, as are Trenton and William.”
Smiling, Alixandrea came alongside her husband, peering from the window to see her grandchildren having a marvelous time. “They look so happy,” she said. “Cissy is positively about to burst.”
Matthew grinned. “William has been asking Cinny if he can ride her pony and she keeps pushing him away,” he said. “I find that I do not want to work in here any longer. I want to go outside and play with my grandchildren.”
Alixandrea laughed softly. “Then go,” she said. “Your tasks can wait. What are you doing, anyway?”
He turned and pointed to the cluttered table behind them, full of maps and missives and any number of other things.
“As you know, Warwick Castle is a crown property since Richard Neville’s death those years ago,” he said. “It borders my lands to the north. Henry has sent me a missive asking if I wish to purchase the place. If I do, he will grant me the title Earl of Warwick.”
Alixandrea looked at him in surprise. “Earl of Warwick?” she repeated. Then, she shook her head firmly. “That title has nothing but horrific memories attached to it, Matt. Why should you want such a thing?”
Matthew grinned. “It may have horrific memories attached to it, but it is still a powerful name,” he said. “Henry is looking for money to fill his dwindling coffers, so he is trying to sell off some of these properties. I suspect I am not the only one who has been approached about purchasing crown properties. Besides, I have four sons that I must provide for. James, as my heir, will inherit the Hereford title and Wellesbourne Castle, but there are still Thomas, Daniel, and William to provide for. The Warwick lands and title would be magnificent for Thomas.”
Alixandrea wasn’t so sure. “Thomas Wellesbourne, Earl of Warwick?” she said. “It would make him quite proud, I am sure. And he is a good boy, so he would be a credit to the title. Does Henry want a good deal of money for it?”
Matthew shrugged. “He wants a substantial amount, but the return on it would be endless.” Another happy scream from the bailey caught their attention and they both turned towards the window again. “Enough business for the day. I am going outside to ride ponies.”
Alixandrea waved him on, smiling at her happy husband. But before he could quit the chamber, she called out to him.
“Matt,” she said, somewhat hesitantly. “Where… where do you suppose Benoit is? Does it not seem strange that he has not come with his wife and children?”
Matthew was caught off-guard by the question and he paused. Alixandrea was the mother of his children, the most beautiful, wonderful, and trustworthy woman he knew. He’d told Trenton that he wasn’t going to tell her of Benoit’s death, and especially not of everything else Trenton had told him, but in looking at her, he couldn’t in good conscience keep the secret from her.
Alixandrea was a reasonable, wise woman and it was possible, at some point, that he would require some of that wisdom in this situation. Retracing his steps, Matthew thought on how to tell her the truth.
“I must tell you something that cannot leave this room,” he finally said. “Swear to me that you will not say anything to anyone, not even to your daughter.”
Alixandrea grew serious. “Of course, Matt,” she said. “What is it?”
What is it? Matthew didn’t even know where to start. Reaching out, he grasped her arms gently, his right hand holding her while the stump of his left wrist rubbed against her in a comforting gesture.
“Benoit is dead,” he said, watching her eyes widen. “You needn’t concern yourself with the circumstances of his death, but know that he is dead. Lysabel knows this, but her men and the whole of Stretford Castle do not, and that is why she has come to Wellesbourne. She is seeking my guidance on how to proceed, but I must see Henry about this very soon. Cinny and Cissy are the heiresses to the Sheriff of Ilchester’s title and wealth, but the king must know what has happened. Only then will I be able to properly guide Lys in this matter.”
Alixandrea stared at him in shock, clearly struggling to absorb the news. Finally, she spoke.
“Did… did someone kill him?” she asked.
“Aye.”
She let out a hissing sound and closed her eyes tightly, as if physically impacted by his answer. “I knew it,” she muttered. “God forgive me, I knew it. What happened? Did he finally whore with the wrong woman and her husband killed him?”
Matthew’s heart sank. “How did you know about that?”
“The whoring?” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I hear things, Matthew, and I have heard this for years. You did not have to tell me, but I knew. That is why I am thrilled that my daughter and grandchildren are here without that hound of a man. Lys did not deserve the disrespect Benoit showed her.”
Matthew was feeling horrible, as if he hadn’t protected his wife from the terrible rumors, and it only compounded his guilt where Lysabel was concerned. He’d failed his daughter, and now his wife. Furthermore, he had planned on telling Alixandrea about the beatings but from the look on her face, he didn’t think she could take it. He could see how distressed she was about Benoit’s behavior, something she’d never expressed until this moment. But telling her how the wretch of a man had taken his hand to their daughter… for the moment, he would spare her that horror.
“And you kept all of this buried inside you?” he asked her quietly. “Why did you not ask me about it? Why did you not say something?”
Alixandrea’s eyes began to brim with tears but she fought them, blinking rapidly. “And add to your pain?” she said. “I would never do that. You were already suffering guilt at your daughter’s husband’s behavior and I would not add to it. But I have long suspected that you confronted him over it. Did he deny it?”
Matthew sighed heavily. “He did. Repeatedly.”
Alixandrea shook her head in disgust. “Then there was nothing more you could do,” she said. “But I must say that I never liked Benoit. Did you know that? I pretended otherwise, because you seemed convinced he would be a good match for Lysabel, but there was something in the man’s eyes that betrayed the darkness of his soul. I saw it in the way he treated his servants and his men, yet he would be sweet and kind to our daughter. I knew he had that evil streak in him.”
“And you said nothing?” he asked, incredulous.
She shook her head, feeling desperate and sad. “What could I say? You had already committed to him and I was hoping against hope that whatever wickedness was inside of him would not turn against Lys, or if it did, that she could deal with it. She is a very strong woman. I hoped… I hoped I was wrong about him.”
Matthew could see that she was distraught, so he pulled her into his arms, holding her closely. “You were not wrong,” he muttered. “And I have a great deal to make up to Lys. Her pain is my doing, Alix. You cannot k
now how that hurts me.”
Alixandrea clung to him. “You could only do your best,” she said. “It is Benoit who bears the shame, not you. He is truly dead, then?”
“Truly.”
“Then I am overjoyed.” She released him, looking into his sorrowful face. “He is gone and we have our Lys back. We must look to the future to ensure her next husband is nothing like Benoit. We have been given a second chance to give her a happy life and we must be grateful for it.”
There was that wisdom he depended on her for; her outlook to the future, to hope. She was right in all things. Matthew kissed her.
“I am grateful,” he said. “For Lys and for you. Now, if there is nothing more to say on the matter, I am going to go and ride ponies. I am going to enjoy this moment and be thankful for it.”
Alixandrea smiled encouragingly and he kissed her one more time before quitting the chamber and heading out into the busy, dusty bailey.
Thankful, indeed.
With the sun on his face, Matthew’s attention moved from his wife to the ponies, once again drawn in by more happy screams. He focused on the two small ponies trotting I circles around Trenton, while his youngest son, William, ran in circles with the ponies, grabbing at the girls and teasing them. That was where the happy screams were coming from.
William was his wild child, so full of life and delight that he reminded Matthew very much of his own long-dead brother, Luke. Luke Wellesbourne had been a redheaded force of nature, loved by the women, and passionate about life in general. He had lost his life at the Battle of Bosworth, the same battle where Matthew lost his left hand, and there wasn’t a day that went by when Matthew didn’t miss him.
Still, seeing William and how much he behaved, and looked, like Luke often eased that grief of a long-dead brother. Sometimes he was even glad Luke wasn’t around anymore because he was certain that between William and Luke, England would be in a good deal of trouble as the wild boys of Wellesbourne went on a rampage of wine, women, and more wine, leaving Matthew to make excuses for their behavior and pay off the irate fathers of compromised women.