Julie Garwood - Gentle Warrior

By the time the sun had reached its zenith, Elizabeth was hot, miserable, and exhausted. She closed her eyes for a moment's rest and almost fell out of her saddle, but Geoffrey was suddenly there, beside her, and caught her just in time. He lifted her and settled her against him without breaking his stallion's stride. Elizabeth sighed her acceptance and quickly went to sleep, her head nestled against her husband's chest and her arms wrapped around his waist.

With one arm, Geoffrey held his wife close to him, savoring the feel of her softness against him. She smelled of wildflowers, Geoffrey thought, rubbing his chin against the top of her head as he inhaled her sweet scent, and apples too, from the meager lunch they had shared. He heard his wife sigh in her sleep, and silently echoed the sound.

Elizabeth slept the afternoon away. Geoffrey finally called a halt to the fast pace an hour before sundown. Elizabeth 's legs would not support her when she finally touched the ground, and she found she had to hold on to Geoffrey's arm until the shaking subsided.

"You are ill?" Geoffrey made the question sound like an accusation, and Elizabeth straightened up at once.

"I am not!" she contradicted. "Just a little indisposed. It will pass."

She tried to look away, but Geoffrey placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her toward him. It was the first show of affection in such a long time that Elizabeth felt herself becoming shy.

"It is your time of the month?" he asked in a gentle whisper.

Shyness evaporated with his ultimate question. Elizabeth gasped and shook her head furiously. "We must not discuss such things," she said, blushing. "It is unseemly."

She tried to pull away but Geoffrey would not let go. "And if husband and wife do not discuss this… thing, then when am I to know when I cannot touch you?" he asked in a logical voice.

"Oh! I do not know," Elizabeth whispered her answer, looking down at the ground. A sudden thought turned her gaze back to her husband. "That is why you have not, that is the reason we have not…" she stammered, unable to put her thoughts into words. She waited with the hope that Geoffrey would finish her sentence but he remained silent and watchful. "That is the reason you have not touched me?" she finally asked.

Her voice was like the whisper of the wind, but Geoffrey heard. "Nay," he replied. His voice was gentle and most confusing to Elizabeth.

"Then you are still angry with me?" Elizabeth asked. "That is the reason." In her heart she prayed she was right, that it was Geoffrey's anger over her conduct that kept him from her bed. She didn't know how she would deal with any other reason. If he no longer found her desirable…

Geoffrey watched the play of emotions that swept across his wife's face, and longed to take her fully into his arms and kiss away all her doubts, her worries. He could barely conceal his hunger for her. His promise to wait until Elizabeth was settled into his home before telling her of his love, before showing her his love, now seemed highly unreasonable. And, Geoffrey reminded himself with a grin, he was always most reasonable, wasn't he?

Elizabeth witnessed the grin and became more confused. What was he thinking to bring such a smile? she wondered. Would she ever understand how Geoffrey's mind worked?

"Come, Elizabeth. We have camped near a clear stream. Refresh yourself while I see to my duties."

"I may have a bath?" Elizabeth asked, her voice eager. Her clothes felt hot and she knew she was covered with a layer of dust. She lifted the heavy hair from the back of her neck, letting the soft breeze cool her neck.

"After you have eaten," Geoffrey stated. "Then I will find a secluded place for you to bathe." The way his wife stood, holding her hair atop her head, caused her breasts to strain against the fabric of her gown, and Geoffrey found himself hard-pressed not to grab her.

"I will look forward to it," Elizabeth answered. She turned and walked toward the stream so that she would be out of the way of her husband's duties.

I also look forward to it, Geoffrey thought with growing anticipation. Tonight, my love, I will share my heart with you, tonight and forever.

"My lord?" Gerald's voice intruded on Geoffrey's thoughts and he turned with a grunt of displeasure to give his squire attention. "You wish your tent placed in the middle of the camp?" he inquired of the knight.

"Not tonight," Geoffrey answered. He glanced about and then motioned to an area among the trees. "With the trees to my back, away from the men," he decided. "And hurry with your task, Gerald. I would have dinner over and my bed made ready as soon as possible."

Gerald nodded his answer with his hand over his heart and quickly turned to see to his duty.

It seemed an eternity to Geoffrey before the dried meat, bread, and fruit were spread before him. He guided Elizabeth to the tent and saw her settled beside him and then all but force-fed her.

"You seem in such a hurry, my lord," Elizabeth stated. "Do you seek rest early this eve? I could have my bath another time if it is not convenient."

"No!" Geoffrey answered, his voice gruff. "Finish now and gather your cape and whatever else you will need. We must be done before the sun disappears."

Elizabeth hurried to find her soap and cape and then followed Geoffrey. He seemed irritated and impatient with her, but Elizabeth searched her mind and could find no cause for his behavior. She raced to keep up with Geoffrey but refused to question him on his hurry. If he wished her to know his thinking, then he would tell her. She had learned that much in their short marriage, she admitted. Her husband kept his own council and she would have to be patient until he was ready to tell her his thoughts.

Elizabeth and Geoffrey followed the bank of the stream a small distance, until it curved and deepened. The spot Geoffrey chose required ducking under several thick branches to reach the area, but the discomfort of the prickly thorns against Elizabeth's arms was forgotten when she straightened up and saw the beauty surrounding her. Giant trees, posted like sentries, circled the enclosure. Branches reached out, acting as a canopy that allowed only narrow streamers of sunlight to filter through. The red and gold tones of the fading sun cast an eerie, almost mystical spell upon the leaves and grass. "Geoffrey, it is beautiful here! It is magical," she whispered.

"Not magical, only private," Geoffrey corrected, smiling. "I followed the stream earlier, before dinner, with your dogs, and found this place."

Elizabeth nodded and sat down on the bank to take her shoes off. She finished the task and glanced up at Geoffrey. She stilled her action when she saw that he too was removing his boots. As she watched, Geoffrey continued to remove all of his garments.

She knew she blushed, and felt foolish for it. Yet she couldn't seem to take her eyes off her husband, mesmerized by the power and muscle he so casually displayed.

"The sun paints you as a god," she whispered. His skin was golden in the light, his raw beauty magnificent.

Geoffrey shook his head and his thick black hair fell against his forehead. "Your foolish talk will land you in purgatory," Geoffrey admonished.

"I did not mean it as blasphemy," Elizabeth stated.

Geoffrey smiled at Elizabeth. "Need I be your maid to see to your undress?" he questioned in a soft, husky voice. His words were meant to tease, but his look, so full of passion and hunger, erased the jest.

Elizabeth felt his warmth invade her. She could not return his smile but only stare at Geoffrey. Slowly she raised her hand, and Geoffrey took hold and pulled her to her feet. Without a word, he began to remove her clothes. First he released the leather belt surrounding her hips, and then lifted the bliaut over her head. Next he pulled the chainse from her and finally, the ivory-colored chemise. His hands were careful not to touch her breasts, though his fingers brushed the sides more than once.