The Red Wolf's Prize Page 22

  “You can come in, Jamie,” said Serena. “We are nearly finished.”

  Jamie stepped through the door, hefting what for him was a heavy sword. He stood admiring the polished metal. “Did ye know, Serena, that the Red Wolf saved my life at Exeter?”

  “Yea, Sir Geoffroi told me. How did it happen?”

  “He took an arrow for me.” The boy’s eyes glowed with adoration as he spoke of his lord. Then with a sheepish look he added, “I was in the wrong place.”

  “You like him?” she asked, though it was clear from the boy’s face that he did.

  “I do! And I am happy ye are to be his wife.” Jamie carefully set the polished sword on the chest at the foot of the bed and walked to where Cassie lay, obviously happy to see her awake. Taking her hand, he asked, “How are ye, Cassie?”

  “Getting better,” Cassie said with a weak smile.

  “Is not Serena beautiful?” he asked the bedridden woman as he turned to stare at Serena’s gown.

  “Aye, lad, she is.”

  Then to Serena, he said proudly, “I’m to lead ye down.”

  “Ye’re dressed for it,” said Aethel as she placed the cloak of purple velvet over Serena’s shoulders, securing it with the sapphire jeweled brooch Renaud had given her. She would have expected the gift the morning after the wedding night, but Renaud had seen fit to place the gold circle set with sapphires in her hand as he rose from their bed that morning. The gesture had caused her cheeks to burn reminding her, as it did, of all they had shared. But since she’d given him her maidenhead, she supposed it was right that his gift should follow.

  Along with the brooch, he’d given her a pouch of gold coins, and told her she would also have title to one of the manors and its surrounding land. As a husband’s gift, it was generous, though she could not help but recall that all of Talisand would have been Steinar’s save for the coming of the Normans.

  At Renaud’s request, she had worn her hair unplaited and without covering save for the circlet of silver and gold her father had given her which Eawyn placed on her head.

  Dressed in her finery, the women pronounced her ready, and she followed Jamie down the stairs.

  * * *

  Renaud watched his bride slowly descending the stairs to the manor’s entry where he waited surrounded by his senior knights. She is mine!

  Once again, Serena appeared like a queen, this time in a shimmering gown of blue framed by a purple cloak thrown back over her shoulders, his gift of the gold sapphire-studded brooch secured at her neck. He preferred to imagine her as she was that morning when he’d left their bed: sleepy, naked and tumbled from his lovemaking. Never before had his soul merged with a woman, but he was certain it had happened with Serena when they joined as one flesh.

  He could hardly wait for his wedding night.

  “My lady,” he said, offering her his hand. “You are a vision for this humble knight’s eyes to feast upon.” Then his mouth twitched up in a grin. “I was half worried you would appear dressed as a lad.”

  She laughed and placed her hand over his. “And embarrass my husband? Nay, I would not.”

  He was glad she could accept his teasing on this day that would see her wed to a Norman in the eyes of the church. Mayhap she no longer resented him. He could only hope.

  His knights moved aside as he and Serena walked to the door Geoff held open. Jamie, beaming a smile for his lord, took his place next to the senior knight.

  “The priest awaits us at the entrance to the chapel,” he said to Serena as he led her into the yard.

  All of Talisand turned out to celebrate the marriage of their lady to the Red Wolf. The yard was filled with his men and the villagers. He well knew some of them came out of curiosity. But the averted eyes of others told him there were still some who were unhappy their lady had been forced to wed a Norman. They should have drawn comfort in the knowledge that at least one member of the thegn’s family remained to see to their needs.

  The crowd parted as he and Serena proceeded through the village to the chapel where Father Bernard waited for them in front of the doors. Renaud stopped before the priest, who covered their hands with his and began to speak.

  Father Bernard talked of the Master of the Heavens’ love for his children and the importance of the gift of marriage. They were simple words but significant in their meaning. Then he blessed their union.

  The ceremony concluded, Renaud slipped a gold ring on her finger and whispered, “Seulement l'amour entre nous.” Only love between us. The words he’d had engraved inside the ring.

  She looked up startled. He had never uttered the word “love” to her before. Mayhap he did not give his heart now, but he wanted no strife, no rancor between them. He was not certain there would be love. As Geoff had said, only time would tell if she could be trusted. And for Renaud to love would demand his trust.

  He turned and, with his palms outstretched, accepted from Mathieu the long Norman sword of his family, the hilt carved with intricate designs and decorated with rubies, emeralds and sapphires.

  Looking into Serena’s eyes, more violet because of the cloak she wore, he said, “I give you this sword to hold for our sons.”

  She solemnly thanked him and accepted the sword onto her own palms and handed it to the tall blond Theodric, who now served Renaud. Since Exeter the English guard had cut his hair in the Norman style and now looked like one of them.

  Serena faced Jamie who held in his palms the same sword Renaud had seen him holding earlier, a shorter Saxon weapon.

  Laying it carefully across Renaud’s welcoming palms, with tear filled eyes, Serena said, “This was the sword of my father. It represents the honor of the thegn and that of the people he loved. With this sword, keep our home safe.”

  Meeting her gaze, he promised, “I will.”

  With the words spoken, Renaud handed the sword she had given him to Geoff. Then he took her hand and led her from the church back to the manor. Along the way, they were greeted by the smiles of the people of Talisand who were pleased with the marriage. He snatched glimpses of her smiling at the villagers and his men and rejoiced that his beautiful bride loved the people of Talisand, now his people. If he could only trust her, she would be a worthy helpmate.

  The celebration that followed was much lighter in spirit. Both mead and ale flowed freely as all work was set aside for the rest of the day to allow for eating, drinking, music and dancing. His men had hunted the day before enabling them to dine on fresh fowl and venison. Even a lamb had been slaughtered for the feast spread before the people who crowded into the hall.

  Renaud looked down the high table to see Geoff on Maugris’ other side with the dark-haired Eawyn. The two seemed to be acting good friends, though Renaud knew his fellow knight hoped they would one day wed. On the other side of Serena sat Sir Maurin, who every now and then looked toward the wide opening that led to the manor and to his lady love still abed.

  Before them, the Welsh bard entertained all with his lively music, accompanied by the lyre, a reed instrument Serena told him was a shawm, a drum and a pipe whistle. The bard kept darting glances at Serena, as he strolled among the wedding guests singing his Welsh tunes, which caused Renaud to wonder what still lay between them.

  At the high table, Maugris kept them entertained with stories of other brides and bridegrooms, including the story of Renaud’s parents’ wedding. Though he had heard it before the story still held a kind of charm for him. It was, by all accounts, the one time his stern father had allowed himself to appear besotted. The wise one delighted in retelling the story and said Renaud’s father would be quite pleased with the turn of events at Talisand.

  “I must send your father and brothers an account of your success and your beautiful bride,” said the wise one.

  Renaud didn’t smile. He wondered, instead, if he was yet successful. He had claimed his bride, but there was still Morcar and Sir Hugue to contend with. And what of Serena’s brother? Might he show up any day with a band of wild Scot
s to protest what had happened to his sister and try and retake his lands?

  * * *

  Aethel heard the lively music drifting up from the wedding celebration to the bedchamber where she kept watch on the handmaiden. She did not mind missing the gaiety. It was meager penance for her part in Morcar’s scheme and her failure to see that Serena had changed her mind and was truly resigned to marrying the Red Wolf. With a shudder, Aethel reflected on what might still happen to her if the Red Wolf were to learn of her perfidy.

  I pray, in time, all will be forgiven.

  A quiet knock drew Aethel’s eyes to the door, which opened to reveal the hulking form of Sir Alain.

  “If ye’re here to see Cassie, she’s sleeping.”

  “Nay, Aethel. I am here to see you.”

  The big, burly knight stepped into the room making the chamber seem smaller. “Me?”

  “Aye.” He reached back and closed the door, darting a glance at the sleeping handmaiden before he slowly walked toward Aethel. “When I heard that the guards had been given a potion, I immediately thought of you with your knowledge of herbs. It was you, was it not?”

  She rose from the bench. “I meant her no harm. I thought she wanted to leave.”

  “Does Lady Serena know of your involvement?”

  “Yea, she does,” Aethel said contritely. “I think she has forgiven me.”

  “All that to the good, it is time you had a husband to keep you from further mischief, Aethel.”

  She looked into his hazel eyes and decided with not even a kiss between them that she wanted him to be that husband. “Mayhap ye are right, sir knight.”

  “Aye, I am.” He closed the small distance between them, wrapped his powerful arms around her and, drawing her close, kissed her.

  She knew then she would never want another man.

  * * *

  Serena could not take her eyes off her husband. He had come to their wedding magnificently attired like the Norman lord he now was. He wore a tunic of the darkest blue over a cream undertunic and brown hosen crisscrossed by leather straps. On his feet were short leather boots. At his waist was a belt of silver to which was secured a scramaseax; the handle of the long knife was studded with silver. Around his neck was a wide necklace of gold and silver bejeweled with the same stones that decorated the sword he had given her. On his head was a black velvet cap that gave him a regal appearance with the chestnut waves of his hair curling at his nape. The warrior was cloaked and the earl revealed in all his splendor. Admittedly, he was a magnificent exemplar of a man.

  “My lord, you appear as one on his way to your king’s court,” said Serena, unable to resist a grin.

  Setting down his goblet of silver, he smiled. “And would you look forward to a visit to William’s court, wife?”

  Serena stared at their shared trencher. “Nay, I confess I would not.”

  “William may yet visit Talisand, Serena. You should be prepared. He will want to see his castle. And I’ve heard rumors of discontent in the north that may draw him to Northumbria before the year is out.”

  Serena had not forgotten what Morcar had told her about the anticipated gathering of the Northumbrians and their allies, but she said nothing, only worrying her lower lip between her teeth as she considered what might take place in that city. She preferred to think of Steinar safely in Scotland and her new husband safely at Talisand, not meeting on a battlefield. Yet she feared it might be inevitable.

  They finished the meal, and Renaud took her hand leading her from the dais to the area cleared for dancing. The tables had been pushed close to the walls allowing the couples to dance around the central hearth, which did not bear a fire this day. Instead, the wooden shutters were thrown open to allow the sunlight to fill the hall.

  The music of the harp, lyre, bone whistle and drum urged them to join the others. The steps involved much turning and gesturing as Renaud led her through the dances he knew. Sir Geoffroi and Eawyn joined them, as did the rest of the knights and many of the villagers. Soon every maiden was partnered with either a Norman or an Englishman. The hall was crowded with bodies moving in time to the music.

  Angus pulled Maggie into the twirling couples, causing Serena to smile.

  “You are pleased, my lady?” Renaud asked her.

  “Aye, my lord. It has been a long while since any at Talisand had cause to dance.”

  * * *

  Sunlight from the windows in the hall shimmered in Serena’s flaxen curls drawing Renaud’s gaze to her beautiful face and to the swells of her breasts rising above the neckline of the elegant gown, enticing him beyond measure. Content he had finally claimed his English bride, he wanted to be alone with her. To lay her down on their bed and make long, lingering love to her. Enough eating, dancing and celebration. He wanted his bride naked in his bed. And he wanted her now.

  As their heads passed close with the movement of the dance, he whispered in her ear, “When the music ends, my lady, we are away to our chamber.”

  Serena blushed as he’d expected she would. Still new to lovemaking, she had much to learn before she would be comfortable with all he wanted to share with her. But her passionate response to his forays the day before told him she would enjoy what was to come.

  The song ended and Renaud swept Serena into his arms and carried her from the hall with much cheering and ribald raillery shouted from his men.

  “My lord!” Serena gasped as they passed through the doorway leading from the hall to the manor. “Must you carry me like a sack of grain?”

  “Ah, Serena,” he replied kissing her on the forehead while striding through the entry, “it is but a small thing to hasten our departure. Besides, my men heartily approve, and your maidens are all bearing smiles. I like having you at my disposal.”

  Up the stairs he hurried with his bride in his arms. Kicking open the door to his bedchamber, he crossed the room and tossed her playfully upon the bed’s cover.

  “You have little idea what torture I experienced at being so close to you yet allowing propriety to have its sway. Now you are mine!”

  He closed the door and returned to her, unlacing her gown and sliding it from her.

  “I see you are in haste to dispense with my clothing, my lord. Would you like me to help divest you of yours?”

  “Saucy wench,” he said with a grin.

  Her arms were outstretched to him, but he was too anxious to wait. Setting aside his blade and belt, he pulled his tunic over his head. Kicking off his boots, he doffed his shirt, leaving him only in his braies and hosen.

  Casting her a smile, he fell upon her, raining kisses down her neck and over her face as her arms wound around him. He took her mouth in a gentle assault, his tongue reaching for hers. He pressed his hips to her belly and felt his passion rise. She wrapped one of her legs around his as she returned his kiss.

  Raising his head, he looked into her violet eyes, darkening with her pleasure. “You are not in a hurry, are you my love?”

  She blushed. “You have made me eager with your kisses.”

  “Not so eager as I.” And with that he made short work of their remaining clothes to leave them both naked.

  Her flesh was soft and warm and he wanted to sink his shaft deep within her. His gaze devoured her. She was so lovely, skin as luminous as cream, her rose tipped breasts rising and falling with her rapid breaths. He could wait no longer to sample them. Threading his fingers through hers and raising her hands above her head on the pillow, he pressed his shaft against the juncture of her thighs and she opened to him. Taking a nipple into his mouth to feast upon the hard crested peak, he pressed against her moving his hips in an action designed to drive her wild.

  “Oh, Renaud…”

  Quickly he let go of her hands and moved his mouth to her nether region where he lapped at her wetness with his tongue, feeling her shiver beneath his hands kneading her breasts.

  “So ready, so soon,” he said. He could not wait a minute longer to have his bride. Rising above her and
positioning his shaft at her entrance, he plunged deep.

  Serena inhaled and sighed out her breath.

  She was so tight, her muscles gripping his shaft with a vengeance; it took all his control not to spill his seed. But he had no intention of quickly concluding this lovemaking. Slowing his heart from its racing pace, he began to move while bending his head to kiss her deeply. She clung to him raising her hips to accept his thrusts.

  He raised his head to look at her face flushed with passion.

  “Your leisurely pace inflicts its own pleasant torture,” she spoke huskily.

  “’Twas my intent, my lovely Serena. I would extend this time beyond our enduring.” With his warrior’s control, Renaud took his time until she was near the peak only to back off ’til her passion subsided, and then to raise it again ’til she was moaning beneath him, tossing her head on the pillow.

  Soaked in the sweat of their lovemaking, he plunged deep, hard and fast, and together shouted their release.

  And this was just the beginning of a night Renaud knew he would never forget.

  Chapter 19

  Serena woke to see Renaud’s gray eyes staring at her as he leaned on one elbow, his expression serious.

  “What is it?” she asked, suddenly wide awake, for he seemed worried.

  “Are you, indeed, content to being the wife of a Norman?”

  It was too early in the morn for such conversation, but she could see he was determined to have an answer. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she said softly, “I made my vow to you before the people of Talisand. And we have joined our bodies as one. Surely you cannot doubt me now.” It was with eyes of love that she looked at his strong masculine face framed by his tousled chestnut hair. But looking back at her were eyes of disbelief. Hoping to persuade him, she said, “Though you were my enemy, Renaud, now you are my husband and my lover.”