Chapter Twelve
Beatrice was surprised to wake with Gavin still in the bed. The day prior must have taken a toll on him. She’d never considered how much work was upon his shoulders. Between visiting the surrounding lands, overseeing disputes and requests, then having to entertain late into the evening, he did more than most could accomplish daily.
When he stirred, she watched, mesmerized as his eyelids fluttered. Gavin’s lips curved when noting her regard. “You’re awake.” The comment was raspy with sleep. Then his brow furrowed. “Why hasn’t anyone woken me?” He looked to the door.
“Everyone is tired after a long day. The castle is quiet still.”
He pulled her against him. “We have to see about the departure of our guests. Some left early, I’m willing to bet. They have farms to tend to.”
Having a conversation with Gavin while remaining in bed was how she would love to start each day. Beatrice bit her lip. “I do believe some of the women are expecting tea with me. So I will be busy for a while today.”
With his fingertips, he tilted her chin up. “You are a wonderful wife to entertain the lot of them.” His mouth covered hers before she could reply. The longer his kiss lingered the harder it was to keep from pressing against him.
Moments later, unable to keep from it, Beatrice took Gavin by the hip and pulled him against her. She wanted nothing more at the moment than to join with him, not because she had to, but because she chose to.
Already aroused, his hard sex slid between her legs, the skin silky against her own. He thrust forward and moaned in her ear. The alluring gruff moans were almost her undoing.
Finally, he pulled her leg over his hip and guided himself into her. Both let out a loud sound of satisfaction when he plunged deep.
They made love in a lazy fashion, mouths tasting while their bodies rocked in and out until both lost control. Gavin grunted into her hair as he released into her already spent body.
“Milady, I look forward to your visits,” the healer woman said. So far, the townswomen had been friendly and quite lovely to Beatrice.
“I plan to do so regularly. My mother tutored me in healing and herbs. I would gladly help out when possible.”
As everyone left, a pretty but somber woman lingered behind. “I hear you and the Lord may not be compatible. That you argue constantly. Is it true, Milady?”
The question was not out of concern, but because the woman wanted fodder for gossip. Beatrice chuckled softly. “Don’t tell anyone.” She made a show out of glancing to the other women who walked ahead and then whispered. “Our heated disputes are kindling for a different type of exchange later...in private.” She waved her hand in the air. “Sometimes we get carried away and forget where we are when sparring.” A long sigh escaped at remembering their lovemaking just that morning.
The young woman’s eyes widened and then she nodded. “I am glad to hear it, Milady.” From the downturn of her lips, she was not.
Once the women left, Beatrice dawdled in the kitchen for a bit, but was sent out by Molly when she’d offered to help. In the great room, the maids and young lads cleaned up, the women moved about while chatting about the festivities. They stopped when Beatrice entered. “Is there something we can do for you, Milady?” one of the women called out to her.
“No, please continue.” She went to the stairs and climbed to her chamber to find Grisilda cleaning there. “Grisilda, I apologize for how I spoke to you last night.”
Her friend smiled and let out a breath. “Oh, thank goodness. I was scared you’d decided to change how we would regard each other from now on.”
Beatrice took Grisilda’s hands and led her to the chairs in front of the fireplace. “I feel lost in this new world. I don’t know what my place is. What my function is.”
“To oversee the household, of course. Go over meal plans with Molly, see about the gardens, lists for the market, visit the villagers, and see about your husband. There is so much to do, Beatrice.”
There was a lot to be done. But it seemed it was all accomplished without her help. “It took but a few moments to ensure all was well.”
Grisilda giggled. “You are not used to being in this elevated position. Perhaps you should ask His Grace to allow a visit to a neighboring Lord and meet with his wife.”
“No, I can’t. The only nearby Lord is Lord Roberts and they are not on good terms with us.” She pressed her lips together. “It is almost two days ride to visit De Wolfe and his wife.”
“Perhaps if you visit Lady Roberts and the wives get along, it would make for a better situation.”
Beatrice’s mouth fell open. “What a grand idea.” She hugged Grisilda. “Thank you. You will go with me, of course.”
The maid stood and went back to shaking out the bedding. “Of course.”
Torquil stood next to the sideboard holding a cup. Whether ale or tea, Gavin wasn’t sure. “My father sends his congratulations on your marriage.”
“So I take it you had a civil conversation?”
His friend pressed his lips together and frowned. “Civil with bitter undertones. However, he did promise to speak to his people about trespassing. Also, he wants to make amends by offering that if the farmer’s daughter will name the man who accosted her, he will agree to a marriage or recompense of their choice.”
“Interesting.” Gavin drank his tea. “Did he ask you to return?”
“He suggested it by implying I’d receive land.” This time Torquil gulped from the cup and grimaced. Whiskey.
Although the past tore the father and illegitimate son apart, Gavin never questioned Torquil’s fidelity to him. Whatever Torquil decided, the man would remain a close friend. He waited to see if Torquil would elaborate.
“I can’t return. Each time I go there I find my stomach churning.”
When Torquil was but ten and six, he’d been betrothed to a beautiful young girl named Ellen . Without reason, his father had the betrothal undone. Then months later, he married the girl himself. Now, years later, they remained married with sons and daughters. Although Ellen was quite sweet, she’d never given any indication of being heartbroken over Torquil.
His friend, however, never forgave his father. He’d been madly fascinated with Ellen and had proclaimed his love for her publicly. To have Ellen, as his father’s bride was not only humiliating for the younger Torquil, but also it had broken the young man’s heart.
“Do you still love her?” Gavin wasn’t sure why he asked. Finding he was currently losing his heart, fear of what would happen if Beatrice ever broke his own heart had begun to take hold.
“No. I don’t believe I ever did. Not really. Perhaps the young naïve me did, but no, not any longer. However, I cannot understand why my father would do this to his own son. Being bastard born, I never had aspiration to gain much. Ellen, however, was my one treasure.”
Understanding now, Gavin nodded. “I believe if the same happened to me, I would also leave my home.”
“There is another matter we must speak of...” they began to discuss duties, giving Gavin a reprieve from wondering about Beatrice and what she was doing at the moment.
“How far is it to the Roberts’ home?” Beatrice asked her husband later. “I wish to visit the Lady Roberts.”
“No.” In Gavin’s study, the word hung in the air between them. “It would be dangerous to send my wife to the Roberts’ territory. Our relationship is not strong as yet.”
“That is why I think it would be a good idea for his wife and me to get to know each other. Have you met her? We could invite them here.”
Her husband’s gaze met hers. He let out a sigh and looked to the doorway. “She’s lovely and seems a good person.” He stood and went to the door then returned and sat next to her. “I will tell you about her...”
Moments later, Beatrice frowned. “I see how her coming here would be discomfiting to Torquil. However, keeping our people safe is more important is it not?”
“I agree with your wife,” Torquil said as he entered the room. Beatrice wanted to kick herself for her inability to keep her voice down.
Although he stood proud, a warrior through and through, there was just a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Lady Beatrice. It is a good idea to build trust between the families. For many years, there has been strife and too many lives lost over unimportant things.”
Gavin’s lips curved, pride expanding his chest. “I made a good decision in choosing you for my partner. Not only a beauty, but intelligent as well.”
Soft warmth filled her and she smiled at the men in the room. Soon, she’d get to know Torquil better.
There was a quiet strength about the warrior that she liked. Perhaps, he’d be best married and settled. It would help Torquil to better deal with Ellen’s visits if he were settled. Beatrice decided to discuss the matter with Gavin later.
It was important that they build better relations with the Roberts.
“What are you thinking?” Torquil narrowed his eyes. “You look to me as if mentally measuring me for a tunic.”
Gavin’s eyebrows lifted. “Is something amiss, Beatrice?”
She ignored Gavin and looked up at Torquil. “Why aren’t you married and with young yet?”
It was comical to see the usually composed man’s mouth open and close. He blinked and then frowned. “I have not been inclined to.”
“Time passes quickly. How old are you? Five and thirty? Soon, you’ll be much too old to sire.”
“Beatrice,” Gavin said with a tinge of warning although his lips quivered in an attempt not to smile.
Torquil let out a breath. “Why would you have me married off? Afraid I’ll steal my father’s bride back? I have no intention of doing so.”
“No,” Beatrice said. “I don’t sense you do. However, I do think every man needs a wife to settle him.”
“You didn’t wish to marry,” Gavin, the annoying man, spouted. “Why do you champion marriage now?”
Beatrice looked to him from the side of her eyes. “It’s different for a woman. We don’t need settling.”
“Hmmm.” Thankfully, her husband didn’t elaborate on his thoughts. It would not do for him to point out she was quiet wild and unsettled even then.
Torquil lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “I do not wish to marry anytime soon, Lady Beatrice. I do, however, wish to discuss the guard’s duties with His Grace.”
“I will leave you to that then.” Beatrice stood and then leaned to press a kiss to Gavin’s lips. “Discuss inviting the Roberts,” she whispered, knowing Torquil could hear.
From the study, she made her way to the kitchens where she found Molly sitting down to a cup of tea. “Milady, I’ll fix you one.” She started to stand, but Beatrice pushed her shoulder to keep her in place.
“No, don’t. I’m not in the mood for tea at the moment.” She plopped down in a chair without care and Molly shook her head and smiled.
“I need to ask you about something.” Beatrice scanned the room to ensure it was empty. “It’s about bedsport.”
Molly chuckled. “Very well. What perplexes you?”
“How can a woman please a man with her mouth?”
Molly spit out her tea and coughed violently. Beatrice jumped up and banged her on the back. “Oh, that was not the question I expected,” Molly, sputtered between coughs and laughter. Tears ran down her face and she wiped them away with her apron. “Goodness, you surprised me.”
Moments later they sat at the table with a thick carrot between them. Molly kept watch while Beatrice practiced placing the thick end of the carrot into her mouth. Most of the time, they laughed too much to accomplish any kind of training.
“Oh, His Grace comes.” Molly yanked the carrot from Beatrice and took a healthy bite out of the tip.
Beatrice couldn’t help but burst out laughing just as Gavin stepped in. His eyes went from Molly, who tried to look serious as she stood with a carrot in her hand while chewing, to Beatrice, who fought valiantly to keep from giggling.
His eyes narrowed and scanned the room. “I came to ask if you’d like to walk about the garden.”
“That would be lovely.” Beatrice stood and a second carrot rolled onto the floor. She’d forgotten about the carrot they’d deemed too small compared to Gavin’s sex.
It rolled across the floor and Molly dissolved into fits of laughter, collapsing on the chair. “I...I...apologize...y-y-your Grace.”
The poor woman couldn’t stop, so Beatrice grabbed Gavin’s hand and pulled him to the door.
Once outside, she walked alongside him with a wide smile on her face.
“What were you two doing?” Gavin asked. “I feel as if I interrupted some sort of mischief.”
“Nothing like that. Molly was teaching me about gardening.”
“I see.”
They walked to the edge of the gardens where a solitary bench under a trellis burdened with ivy provided both privacy and shade. Beatrice looked behind them, noting the short wall and the building’s wall did make the spot perfect for a tryst.
“This seems a place a young man would bring a lass and steal a kiss.”
Gavin’s lips curved. “Aye. However, it also is the perfect place to have a conversation without fear of being overheard.”
So he planned to speak. Beatrice attempted without much success to draw her mind away from what she’d rather be doing.
“Beatrice. I appreciate your dedication to our people. It makes me happy to know you already care enough to work towards bringing better relations between the Roberts and us. Your idea, although it has merit, will have to wait. It is still too soon. I fear a disaster by bringing those who have killed our people into their midst. The Roberts, as well, will have similar situations, I’m sure. Just earlier this year, there were deaths on both sides.”
Beatrice nodded and led him to the bench where she lowered to sit while he stood. Her lips curved at finding herself at the perfect height, parallel to his midsection.
“As the years pass,” he continued, “once more time goes by, the freshness of anger and resentment will fade. Wounds will heal. Then we can consider... what are you doing?”
She pulled his tunic up and pulled his britches down to his hips. She peered between his legs. He was flaccid, but no matter. Molly said all she had to do was take it in hand.
“Beatrice?” Gavin stopped speaking when she gripped his staff and stroked it. He looked over his shoulder. “Here?”
“Be still,” she said concentrating on getting him hard so she could do as she’d practiced. “I want to show you something.”
“Ah...” Hardening followed his sharp intake of breath and several hitched breaths as she stroked him several more times.
With measure, she took his upper thigh and pulled him closer. Then just as she’d practiced, she licked the rim of his staff with her tongue flat. After a few times, she slowly pulled him into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat. She repeated the movement, mimicking lovemaking several times, then allowed him almost fully out of her mouth and suckled the tip.
She looked up to see him looking down with fascination, neck muscles taut, nostrils flared. Happiness surged that he enjoyed it.
Once again, she took him fully into her mouth, sucking while stroking him with her hand until he grabbed her head and began thrusting. Aroused, she fought to breathe, but she relaxed her throat enough to allow the fast penetrations.
“Ah!” Gavin pulled out and spilled onto the ground, his arms resting on the back of the bench keeping her trapped as his chest heaved.
Leaning forward, he kissed her, his mouth ravishing her lips as if a hungry man possessed. Beatrice fell backward onto the bench and he followed, covering her with his large bulk.
It would have been uncomfortable if not for the need to have him. When his hand found her core and he began stroking her, pushing a finger into her while the other slid between her sex, she became undone within moments.
Sometime later, they walked back to the front of the keep. Beatrice glanced at her husband. His lips curved with satisfaction at having brought her to culmination more than once. “I am not sure the walk in the garden should always end as today.” She mocked him. “What would people think?”
“They will think their Lord is a very lucky man, indeed.”
Beatrice laughed.
“Your Grace. A messenger has arrived.” A guard met them at the door. “From the Duke of Aldorf.”