Love Everlasting, page 9
The look in his eyes was so bleak that Julianna forgot her own fears and her defensive scheming long enough to embrace him and lay her cheek against his. She was aware that he had just offered a glimpse into his heart and, while she was horrified at what his work entailed, she was grateful that he’d confided in her. Never before in her life had she felt so close to anyone.
The feeling did not last. Royce let her hold him for only a short time before he set her aside and walked to his desk.
“Now then,” he said, sitting on the side of the desk, “before we return to the bedroom, tell me about Sir Kenric. What was the meaning of that display in the great hall this afternoon?”
“Kenric offered to conduct me to the high table and I refused him. When he insisted, Cadwallon intervened,” she said. She hesitated for a long moment before she gathered her courage and plunged into the too-familiar abyss of half-truth and deceit, setting her desperate plan into motion. As she had learned to do when lying to Deane, she looked directly at her husband while she spoke. “For years, Kenric has been collecting information for King Louis of France. I think you must already know as much.” She paused, hoping he’d agree that she was correct.
“Go on,” Royce said in a neutral tone that gave nothing away.
“Kenric is a master manipulator.” Again she stopped.
“And?” Royce prompted.
“He is attempting to play upon his relationship to my late husband. He calls me Aunt Julianna. You’ve heard him do it.”
This time when she paused Royce said nothing; he just regarded her with his eyebrows slightly raised and an expectant smile on his lips.
“Kenric came to your bedchamber this morning after you left,” she said.
“Did he?” Looking bored, Royce crossed his arms over his chest. “Why? What did he suppose he’d find there?”
“He came seeking my assistance,” Julianna said. “Kenric expects me to use my position as your wife to obtain information that may be useful to King Louis. Specifically, he wants to know what you have learned about a certain Lord Dunstan de Granville.”
“If I were Kenric, I’d try the same gambit,” Royce remarked, smiling slightly. When she stared at him in openmouthed astonishment, he asked, “Why should he assume you’d agree to his request?”
“It was more of a demand than a request.”
“Indeed? Perhaps you’d like to explain to me why Kenric feels free to make demands of my wife.”
“What you said before is true,” she cried. “You do think of your work as a game; you are playing it now, with me. You know perfectly well that for years, until the final days of his last illness, Lord Deane provided information to Kenric, which was to be passed on to the French. Now, Kenric insists that I must do the same. If I refuse, he will accuse me of being Deane’s accomplice. The accusation will reflect on your honor, since you have accepted me as your wife. I assume Kenric also imagines the charge will put an end to your usefulness as King Henry’s spymaster.”
“Fascinating,” Royce murmured, his gaze never leaving her face.
“This morning, I refused to help Kenric. That’s why I was deliberately rude to him in the great hall.”
“This morning you refused,” Royce said softly. “My lady, are you about to inform me that you’ve changed your mind, out of concern for my honor?”
“That is exactly what I want to tell Kenric,” she said.
“What?”
Royce came off the desk so fast that she had no time to avoid the iron grip he placed on her wrists. Nor could she escape the fierce glare in his grey-green eyes. There before her stood the lion she had imagined him to be after he’d first made love to her. But it hadn’t been love; it had been mere possession of a chattel, and this lion was extremely and perilously angry, ready to pounce on her and destroy her.
“We can use Kenric,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even, so he wouldn’t guess at the fear that threatened to consume her. “I’ve told you what he demanded of me. Now listen to my plan.”
“You grow more interesting by the moment,” Royce said. He released her wrists and stepped away, so he was no longer touching her.”What plan?”
“I’ll tell Kenric that I’ve reconsidered, that I’m worried about what you’ll do to me if he reveals all that he knows about Deane’s intelligence-gathering, and so I have decided to go along with his scheme.”
“You ought to be worried about what I’ll do,” Royce growled.
“It’s a remarkable opportunity for you, one that cannot occur very often,” she insisted. “I think we ought to take advantage of it. You may provide to me whatever false information you want carried to King Louis and I will pass the information on to Kenric. I may be able to learn a few tidbits from him, as well.”
“Tidbits?” Royce roared, his voice so loud that Julianna stumbled back a few steps. “Are you mad? Have you any idea what Kenric’s reaction will be if he learns you are lying to him?”
“I suppose he will kill me,” she said, thinking that so would Royce kill her, should he ever learn the full extent of her duplicity.
“You are proposing to become a double agent?” Royce asked, as if he couldn’t believe what she was saying.
“I seem to be in a perfect position to help you,” she said. She thought her plan was the only way in which she could ever make up for at least some of the damage that Deane and Kenric, together, had inflicted by their treachery - not to mention the damage that she had doubtless done by obeying Deane and passing on the information she had gathered for him.
As Julianna saw it, her scheme had several advantages. If Royce agreed to it, he could never speak openly to Kenric about what she was doing, because that would reveal his knowledge that his wife was acting as a double agent. Likewise, Kenric couldn’t reveal Julianna’s spying to Royce because, so long as she supplied information to him, he wouldn’t want her husband to learn what she was supposedly doing for him. Trapped as she was between the two men, Julianna dared to hope she’d find safety by arranging for the continuing silence of both.
“Why are you so eager to help me?” Royce’s gaze searched her face.
“It’s a matter of self-protection.” That was certainly true. “If I refuse to do what Kenric wants, he will declare publicly that I am a French agent. He’s assuming that, since you know of Deane’s involvement, you will believe the accusation against me. He will also play upon the fact that you don’t really know me.”
“Indeed. There is that little detail.” He regarded her coolly. “My lady, I have heard many wild and daring schemes proposed in the last few years. Your plan takes my breath away.”
“Does that mean you will consider it? I really think it’s the best way - perhaps the only way - to prevent Kenric from dishonoring you. And me.”
“I can think of two other ways to stop Kenric,” Royce said. “I could kill him. Or, I could have him imprisoned and hold him until he talks at length about his various spying activities.”
Julianna gasped. Heaven help her if Kenric talked. She could almost hear the swish of the headsman’s axe descending on her neck. She knew she had to think of a very good reason why Royce’s ideas would result in no benefit to him, or to King Henry. He was watching her as a cat watches a mouse it is tormenting. If only she dared turn away from him to break the steady contact of his gaze on hers. But her courage failed her. She stared back at him, hoping he wouldn’t see the terror that nauseated her.
“You don’t look pleased by my suggestion,” he said. “Yet, removal of Kenric, whether by the first means I mentioned, or by the second, will eliminate his threat to you. And, to my honor,” he added.
“Everyone at court knows that agents of King Louis operate here at your sufferance, and that your people routinely observe their activities,” Julianna said. “Wouldn’t killing or imprisoning Kenric roil the placid surface of what must be a very deep pool? With Kenric gone, wouldn’t you then have to contend with new agents who are unknown to you? I should think the end result of removing Kenric would be greater danger to King Henry - and to your agents,” she added, making ruthless use of her new knowledge that he anguished over every agent he sent into danger.
“How neatly you state the situation,” he murmured.
“Royce, I am serious. I admit, I’m afraid of the damage Kenric may do if we don’t act.” She couldn’t tell him how terrified she was of what Kenric would reveal if he were imprisoned and forced to talk. She’d be safer with Kenric dead, but she had just discovered that she didn’t have Royce’s fortitude. She was incapable of consigning anyone, even Kenric, to certain death. Perhaps, if she were required to do it for the safety of her king or the queen, she’d find the strength. But she couldn’t do it for her own personal benefit. “My lord, I really do believe that my suggestion is the best method for us to employ when dealing with Kenric.”
“Us?” He looked amused by the notion that she might have any influence over his final decision.
“We are caught together in Kenric’s schemes,” she said. “And together we must fight our way free of them.”
“Together,” he mused, regarding her with unfathomable eyes. Suddenly he smiled as if he had no serious concerns at all. “Very well, my lady, I will consider your plan. I will, in fact, sleep on it and give you my answer tomorrow. Come.” He held out his hand.
“Come where?” She was so startled by the change in him that she was unable to reorder her thoughts.
“To bed,” he said. “Where else at this late hour? We will sleep on your plan, together.”
She still hadn’t extended her hand to accept his, but her lapse made no difference. Royce scooped her up in his arms, shouldered aside the tapestry over the door, and carried her to his bed. He dropped her unceremoniously onto the mattress and fell on top of her. The jolt of landing dislodged her golden circlet. Royce tossed it aside, then tore off the gold mesh net so he could drag his fingers through the hair thus freed.
“My lord,” she begged, “if you will allow me a moment, I will remove - I’ll be happy to - oh, Royce!” This last exclamation was uttered as he thrust his hips against hers, letting her know without words just how eagerly he wanted her.
“That’s better.” His mumble issued from somewhere near the region of her left shoulder, where he was nibbling at her skin. “I much prefer ‘Royce’ to ‘my lord.’ You smell wonderful.”
“I do? Royce, please let me remove my gown. If you keep pushing it down over my shoulders that way, it will rip. What will Marie think when she finds it all torn and crumpled?”
“Do you imagine I care what Marie thinks?” He rose above her and set his hands at the neckline of the blue silk, catching her linen shift in the same firm grip. Then, very deliberately, he tore both dress and shift down the front until Julianna lay exposed from throat to knee.
While she gaped at him, bewildered by her eager, heated response to what he had just done, Royce pulled off his own clothes. It took him but a moment, though he was more careful with his tunic and hose than he’d been with her gown.
This time, she did not fear his size. Knowing that he’d take her with him to a realm of sensual delight that was still new to her, she accepted what he was about to do and accepted, too, the warmth building inside her. She rejoiced in that warmth, and stirred and stimulated it by touching Royce. Her fingertips skimmed over his broad chest, teasing the golden hair for a moment before she lifted her head and shoulders off the bed to rain kisses over his chest.
She loved the way he growled deep in his throat. This was the lion held in check, not quite purring yet, but making rumbling sounds to indicate his pleasure. His arms came around her, holding her close while he kissed her mouth with remarkable thoroughness, his tongue performing a magical dance with hers. She was breathless when their lips parted. Without warning, he rolled over, pulling her on top of him.
“Since you are so eager, my lady,” he whispered, “do with me what you will.”
“Do what?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”
“Ah, my sweet, almost-virgin wife.”
“I am not!” she snapped. The man was maddening, to torment her so in bed, though his teasing only increased her desire for him. “Whatever I was before, I am not a virgin after last night.”
“True enough,” he agreed with a mysterious smile. “And now, I intend to corrupt your innocence still further. Let me show you what to do. A good wife ought to learn how to please her husband.”
He guided her so slowly that she feared she’d lose her mind before the end, though she delighted in the kisses and the caresses he demanded, and in the way he encouraged her to touch him anywhere at all. In most places Royce’s body was hard as steel, though he showed her a few areas that were warm and soft as the finest Byzantine velvet. His appreciative murmurs banished the last of her doubts about touching a man so intimately. Or kissing. Or licking and sucking. With every caress she bestowed on him, the heat in her veins flared hotter.
Meanwhile, Royce’s hands were busy, too, teaching her to know her own body as well as his, showing her how to receive pleasure as well as give it, until she was writhing and twisting atop him.
“Royce, please! No more! I can’t bear it.”
Laughing softly, he caught her by the hips, lifting her and settling her down exactly where she needed to be. She knelt there for a moment, transfixed by intense pleasure and by astonishment that any man would allow a woman such freedom, that any man at all would lie there beneath a woman and smile at her while she moved on him.
She was still uncertain how to find her own way, so he helped her, combining skillful fingers with firm thrusting motions until she dissolved into rapture. Her eyes closed and her lips parted, but no sound issued forth. Consumed by ecstacy, she could not speak, though her body moved of its own accord in sweet spasms that continued on and on. Royce supported her until she began to return to her rightful senses. Then he held her hips again, keeping her firmly in place for a few more vigorous thrusts, and she felt his essence flooding into her.
She fell across his chest and he held her tenderly, smoothing back her hair, kissing her forehead. A long, languorous time passed before she braced her forearms on his chest and lifted her head to look at him.
“I didn’t know such a thing was possible,” she said.
“You will be surprised and, I trust, delighted to learn what else is possible when both parties are willing. And you, my dear lady, are most remarkably willing.”
“I prefer ‘Julianna’ to ‘my lady,’“ she murmured, echoing his earlier words. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed pleased her enormously. She sighed in contentment. “I never imagined a woman could find such pleasure in the marriage bed.”
“I hope you will continue to find it pleasurable.”
Her smiling gaze held his and she watched the lines at the corners of his eyes deepen, saw the sparkle of warmth and mischief in those grey-green depths. She wasn’t used to humor, in bed or anywhere else, so when Royce tweaked a lock of her hair and kissed the tip of her nose, then tickled her under the chin as if she were a cat, she didn’t know how to react.
She was absolutely dumbfounded when he wrapped his long legs around hers and twisted his lower body, rolling until she lay beneath him. She was completely imprisoned in golden-furred arms and legs, scratched slightly by the golden bristles on his chin when he nuzzled her neck. She felt embraced by a lion, muscular and warm, with breathtaking strength. At the moment, a relaxed and satisfied lion, who murmured softly as he fondled her breasts.
She had always imagined that only very young men were vigorous in their lovemaking. She had heard court ladies giggling about the prowess of the handsome squires who were their lovers, comparing them to the aged husbands with whom most of them were burdened. She’d heard occasional exasperated whispers about how often the younger men expected sexual favors from their mistresses. She had thought the ladies involved were disgusting, but in those days she had been trapped in a cold and loveless marriage. In those days, she had slept alone.
In Julianna’s mind, her marriage to Royce began on that second night with him. The wedding ceremonies had been formalities and their first night together had been a necessary legality. The second night was for pleasure, and for learning to know each other.
Royce was a remarkable teacher. She learned to please him, and herself. She learned to laugh when matters did not always progress as she expected. The difference in their ages mattered not at all to her. Royce knew how to tease and delight her, how to carry her to blissful heights and keep her there long after she ought to have perished from sheer joy. He encouraged her to experiment, to use him as her plaything when it pleased her - and always, always, to laugh.
When at last she drifted into sleep in his arms she knew she would learn still more from him the next time they came together, as he would learn from her. In this at least, they were equals, perfectly matched.
She could live happily with Royce, if only she were not a liar and a spy. If only he were not the enemy, a creature with sharp fangs and claws, a man who considered it his duty to watch the execution of a woman who had spied for King Louis....
With a cry she started upward, until Royce pulled her close again.
“Hush,” he whispered, stroking her shoulders. “Go back to sleep. It’s almost dawn and we sail for England on the noon tide.”
Chapter 7
Royce had neglected to tell Julianna in advance that they were not traveling with the king and queen. Not until morning did he reveal his plans.
“You may cross to England on one of the royal ships if you’d rather,” he said, stretching lazily beneath the quilts, “though I would like you to come with me aboard the Daisy. Cadwallon and Janet and their children are using the same ship. We are the advance group, assigned to reach Norwich before King Henry and Queen Adelicia arrive, and to make certain all is properly prepared for them.”
