Anne Herries - Medieval Brides

He cleared his throat. ‘I was, but when we stumbled across Lufu I was obsessed by one thought—to get to you before Judhael treated you in the same way. I had no idea what I might do when I reached his camp. I just rushed in like a madman.’ He shook his head in self-deprecation. ‘Some strategist, huh?’ Her head shifted, and when she kissed his chest he nuzzled the top of her head.

‘I’m glad you did rush in,’ she said. ‘It brought home to Emma and Edmund that Judhael was turning into something…monstrous.’

Gently, he raised her chin. ‘Am I monstrous in your eyes?’

‘You know you are not. I…I have grown very fond of you.’

Fond? Disappointment engulfed him, but he strove to hide it. Would he always be the invader here? Would the true identity of her brother stand between them for ever? ‘That remark deserves a kiss,’ he said lightly. ‘I hope you like kissing ugly Bretons with black eyes.’

Her lips curved. ‘I do if they go by the name of Adam Wymark.’

‘That’s lucky,’ he said, smiling as their lips met.

It was a long kiss. Adam intended to keep it gentle, but her lips softened and parted, and her tongue met his almost eagerly, it seemed, and her body was warm against him, and her hands had somehow slipped under the waist of his braies and down over his buttocks, holding him to her while she pressed herself against him. A groan escaped him. She had no idea…When she moved like that he wanted to feel her breasts move against his bare flesh. He wanted…

Breathless, he drew back and looked at the bed.

She flushed and gave a shaky laugh. ‘Yes, it is late, isn’t it…?’

Smiling, he manoeuvred her towards the bed, and began pulling out the pins that kept her veil in place. So far there had been no mention of the snuffing out of candles, which was promising. ‘It is late indeed. It is time for you to show me how fond you are.’

She drew back, not meeting his eyes. ‘Adam, there is one thing…’

‘Mmm?’

‘A-about Philip.’

Casting aside her veil, he froze. Yes! Tell me—tell me now.

‘He…he…’ Distancing herself from him, she wrung her hands. ‘Adam, you say I am important to you—’ her voice cracked ‘—but I have something to say to you that will truly anger you.’

‘I doubt that.’

She twisted her head back and forth. ‘No, it will. You see, I have lied to you about Philip…’

‘I know.’

‘He…he’s my brother…’

‘I know.’

‘Not Gudrun’s son, but my brother—Wh…what did you say?’

Adam captured her hands, brought them to his lips. ‘I know. I know it all. I guessed it some while ago.’ Her eyes were wide and dark, her expression puzzled.

‘And you’re not angry? You’re not planning to send him away or…?’

‘Kill him?’ Adam’s lips twisted. ‘I hope you’d know I’d not harm a baby.’

Her fingers clung to his. ‘I do know that—yes, I do. You are a good man—how else could I love you? It…it’s just that—’

His heart pounded and he gripped her by the shoulders. ‘Say that again.’

She blinked. ‘What?’

‘The part about you loving me.’

Shyly, her eyes met his. ‘I do love you. But I have already told you—’

‘You said fond.’ Throat dry, he swallowed, stumbling over the words. ‘Fondness is not love.’

‘I…I know. I…I thought you would prefer to hear that. I realise I can never replace your Gwenn, but—’

Heart swelling, Adam leaned his forehead against hers and gave a shaky laugh. ‘Oh, dear girl, of course you can’t replace Gwenn. No, don’t pull away—listen. Gwenn was Gwenn, and you are you. But don’t think I don’t love you. I do.’ Aware his fingers were boring into her shoulders, he slackened his grip and took a deep breath. ‘I love you, Cecily. I will never stop loving Gwenn. She was part of me, but she is in the past. You are my present. You are my future. You have become the wife of my heart. When you are not with me I ache to see you. When you are with me I long…’ He grinned. ‘You know what I long to do.’

Her blue eyes were fixed on him, soft and warm and loving. ‘Truly? It is not just carnal love?’

‘Truly. I love you.’ The look in her eyes made his bones melt. Cecily, his princess—his. Only now was he beginning to believe it.

‘Your brother will live here,’ he said, while he could still think. ‘And when he is older, if he wishes, I will sponsor him to become a squire. After that…’He shrugged. ‘The rest is up to him. His life will be his to make of what he wills.’

‘Oh, Adam.’ She offered him her lips. ‘Kiss me.’

Drawing her to him, he took the taste of her deep into his mouth, savoured it, wondered how he had ever lived without it.

‘Butterflies again,’ she murmured, her tone edged with wonder.

‘Butterflies?’

Shifting slightly, she pressed his hand to her belly. ‘Here. When you kiss me, butterflies start to dance here—countless butterflies, more than the stars.’

‘And that is a good thing?’

Gentle fingertips caressed his cheek, outlined his mouth, left fire in their wake. ‘Yes, indeed. And sometimes when you touch me…the merest hint of a touch…’ She sighed. ‘It is most strange.’

He reached for her girdle, smiled as simultaneously she reached for the tie at his waist. ‘It is the same for me.’

‘Really? We must be very odd. Adam…?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Tell me you love me one more time…’

‘Cecily, I love you. You are the sun and the moon to me. You are my soul…Will that do?’

Smiling, she fell back onto the bed. A small hand reached up to draw him close. ‘It will…for the time being…’

Shivering with delight as her hands ran up and down his back, he gestured at the bedside candle. ‘Do you want this out?’

‘No, my love. From tonight there will be no more dark secrets.’

Smiling, he caught her to him and brought his lips urgently to hers.

He put his hand out on the wall to steady himself.

She had cuckolded him. She had given herself to another man and now bore proof of her sin. Humiliation and dishonor would once more be his and his family’s to bear because of her. Everything within him screamed for vengeance.

Unanswered questions burned through his mind. Then the plan behind this struck him. Queen Eleanor had definitely plotted this. Her words on their wedding night came back to him. There will be no repudiation of this marriage by either of you.

But Emalie. What had been her part in this? Who had she lain with? Whose baby did she carry now?

He almost laughed at the irony. He had sold his soul to regain his honor and now stood to lose it anyway, once the truth was known….

“A lavish historical romance in the grand tradition from a wonderful talent.”

—New York Times bestselling author Bertrice Small on Once Forbidden

“A welcome new voice in romance…you won’t want to miss.”

—USA TODAY bestselling author Susan Wiggs

“Terri Brisbin writes with her own unique, sweet, lyrical style.”

—Romantic Times

“…lush narrative, crisp dialogue and powerful descriptions. Medieval Scotland comes to life under the skillful storytelling of Terri Brisbin.”

—Rendezvous on A Love through Time

This book is for Walt and Rose—the real Sir Walter and Lady Rosalie—for the years of friendship and support and more things forgotten than I can remember now! Hey, it’s almost like a ride….