A WEDDING IN FRANCE
Leona returned to the convent after that. She couldn't quite believe that everything had changed so fast. She and Conn would be getting married as soon as he could stand. Then they would be going back home together.
She hugged herself, mute with happiness.
The next morning, she couldn't help it. She had to tell someone. She found Florentia in the anteroom where they sometimes did their sewing.
“Marjorie!” her friend said, looking up.
Leona had not told them her real name; and even had she done so she would not have wanted them to change it. Marjorie was her name here. “Sister Florentia! I have such exciting news...”
Leona sat down beside her on the bench and her story spilled out of her. She told her everything: how Conn loved her and she him, how he was healing, how he had promised to wed her when he was well.
This last statement was met with a small frown. “Marjorie, you do understand, don't you, that this might take weeks? His wounds are bad,” her friend asked carefully.
Leona swallowed hard. “I understand, Sister.”
Florentia nodded. “Well, if you can be that patient, then you're more patient than I am!”
Leona stared at her, surprised. “Florentia..?”
“Well, if it was me marrying, then I declare I would do it as soon as possible! What?” her friend asked, blushing red.
“Oh, Sister,” Leona said, and burst out laughing.
The two of them collapsed in happy giggles. “Oh, Marjorie! I am so happy for you,” she said when they had their breath back again. “This is a miracle, my dear friend. A miracle.”
Leona smiled. It certainly seemed that way.
Two days later, she was at breakfast in the refectory, just finishing her bread, when she heard a voice whisper behind her. “Marjorie?”
“Yes, Sister Allectia?” she asked.
“There's a man from our brother monastery. He came with a message for you.”
“Thank you. I'll come at once.”
Leona went to the door, where a young novice told her to go to the storehouse. There, she had a surprise.
Conn was standing opposite the doorway, holding onto the bed, still wincing a little for the wounds on his chest pulled as he tried to straighten up. However, he could stand. He gave her a pale, triumphant grin, brow slick with sweat.
“Conn!” Leona stared. The priest and Conn looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“I told him not to,” the priest said ruefully. “But he did insist on trying.”
Leona shook her head, smiling, tears dampening her cheeks at once. “Oh, Conn,” she said.
The priest smiled gently. “He's standing, my lady. So I believe I have an office to perform?”
Leona nodded, a lump in her throat, remembering their agreement. “Yes, Father.”
They were married in the chapel. Leona wore a long white gown from the convent, a bouquet of lavender and herbs in her hands, courtesy of her good friend. Father Toby and Sisters Marcia and Florentia were witnesses.
The priest smiled at them, face flushed, his ceremonies completed. “Well, my children, this is a happy event. Now, I think I shall retire to my rooms for contemplation.”
Leona and Conn beamed at him.
“Thank you,” Leona whispered.
“I owe you my life, Father,” Conn said sincerely.
“I did nothing, my son.”
“I, too, owe you much,” Leona said. “And you, Sister Florentia, and Father Toby, and Sister Marcia...oh!” She felt her face wet with tears and turned to Conn.
“Come, lass,” he said gently in their native language. “Let's go.”
They walked out of the chapel into the garden, where they were approached by Sister Florentia.
“I shouldn't tell you this, but Sister Marcia and I have a surprise for you...” she flushed, looking at Leona. Leona looked from the older nun to her friend, a questioning smile on her face.
“It's not here, child,” Marcia said gently. “Come, follow me...”
They led them around the side of the convent, where traders left their wares. The surprise was a cart.
When Leona and Conn frowned at them, bemused, they explained.
“We asked Bruno, the carter, if he'd help us out...” Sister Marcia began carefully.
“He said he'd take you to the village!” Sister Florentia exclaimed. Her mentor frowned at her exuberant outburst and they all laughed.
Leona stared from one to the other. She swallowed hard, her throat tight with feeling. “Thank you,” she murmured to Sister Marcia. “Oh, thank you.”
What they were giving to her was more than just a trip on a cart: it was the chance to celebrate the first night of their wedding away from church precincts. They would be man and wife in truth. It was the greatest gift they could have offered.
“I'll never forget you,” Leona whispered to them. Both women blinked back tears.
“Farewell,” Florentia said, sniffing.
Leona embraced her and she giggled, blinking back tears. Then Leona took her mentor's hands, kissing them. Wordlessly, she turned to Conn. “Should we go?”
“Yes, my lady.”
They smiled at each other and clambered into the cart. Then they were off, heading toward the village.
They were man and wife.
They arrived at the inn at midday. Conn stepped down, still wincing a little as his feet hit the cobbles. He handed Leona down and they stared at each other, smiling into each other’s eyes.
“Come on, lass,” Conn said gruffly.
Leona followed him inside. They had a fine meal together and ordered the best room the innkeeper offered. Then they went upstairs together.
“My wife,” Conn whispered, stroking Leona's soft strawberry locks.
“Conn,” Leona murmured, feeling a blush creep hotly up her throat. “It's mid-afternoon...we shouldn't...”
He smiled. “Why shouldn't we?”
“Conn!” Leona scolded. She felt her stomach tingle as he smiled at her, that naughty grin lifting the corners of his mouth.
“What?” he whispered, pressing himself against her so that he pinned her against the wall as he stroked her hair again, body hard against hers.
“Conn...” she tried to protest. He stopped her words with a kiss. His warm, firm tongue slid between her lips, silencing all further debate. Moreover, as her body caught fire under his kiss, Leona realized that she didn't really want to argue about it. She leaned against him, body tingling all over.
“Come, lass,” he growled into her hair. “Let's go in.”
Leona followed him inside. The curtains were drawn, the sunlight filtering through onto the bed. Leona pressed her body against his as they kissed again in the middle of the room.
“My Leona,” he breathed. “You are so beautiful...”
She felt her body melting under the words, under the warmth of his gaze. His hands reached behind her to undo the back of her dress.
She tensed, and then relaxed as he stroked the back of her neck, whispering sweet nonsense into her hair. She was surprised that she had no memories of violence or fear. Her only thoughts were for him as he kissed her, gently unbuttoning her gown until it fell to the floor.
He pushed her back onto the bed. He looked down at her, desire written all over his face. “You are so beautiful, my wife.”
When he came to sit down on the bed and bent to kiss her, she closed her eyes, letting her senses run wild. His fingertips stroked her throat, moving down to the bodice of the petticoat. He worked the strap down over her shoulder and bent to kiss her breast, sighing with wonder.
“Oh!”
Leona tensed and cried out in amazement. She had not expected that his lips clamped to her nipple would feel so impossibly wonderful. Warm, firm, and teasing, the touch of them lancing through her body and filling her belly with warmth.
He smiled up at her, and then bent to sample her again. She cried out as he took the one into his mouth, cupping the other breast with his hand. Leona closed her eyes, then opened them again as he moved back, whispering her name.
He looked up at her, his brown eyes dancing with mischief. Then he sat up, and, stripped the petticoat from her body, left her lying naked before him. Leona felt her pulse drumming as he kissed a line down her belly, ending at her waist. His lips made damp circles on her skin, the gentle tug of them on her flesh sweetly arousing.
When he reached the place her thighs met, kissing her there, she cried out in surprise and he looked up, a question in his eyes.
“Can I…?”
“Yes,” she whispered shyly. He nodded.
When he kissed her there again, tongue caressing her folds, Leona felt her whole body tense with amazement and she cried out hoarsely. It felt warm, gentle, and amazing. He licked her again, slowly, and then repeated it, faster, tongue moving in little laps. She thought she might die, a strange, almost painful pleasure building up inside her slowly. His tongue moved, making the feelings intensify. Building and building and...
“Oh!”
When she reached the height of pleasure, it was intense. It almost frightened her. She cried out in alarm, feeling like her whole body was melting, as if her physical being had dissolved in a bath of wonder. Then she relaxed, and simply sighed as the waves of pleasure pulsed through her body, leaving her almost asleep.
Conn stood and Leona heard the small sounds of his undressing. When she looked up again, eyes half-open with pleasure, he was wearing only his trews. His chest was still laced with cuts, some of them newly-healed, some still too deep. Her eyes caught the slice-wound in his forearm, and she winced, seeing it. He was so beautiful! As he bent to unfasten his belt, his muscles rippled in the firelight. He was lean and hard and she was sure she had never seen anything so beautiful.
He undressed completely and she stared at him. Strangely, though she had never seen a man without his clothes, she did not feel afraid. She trusted Conn. She knew that he would never hurt her. He was so beautiful. He was so gentle. She was not afraid.
Conn lay beside her. She moved closer to him, laying her head against his shoulder.
“Oh, Conn,” she whispered.
He stroked her hair and smiled at her, looking at her as if he had never seen anything so beautiful before.
* * *
Conn had imagined what it would be like and now he had done it: he had undressed Leona and kissed her everywhere. He looked at her where she lay beside him and felt an overwhelming wonder and desire. Her skin was pearl-pale, smooth as satin. The aureoles of her breasts were a soft pink, and the sweet rise of them, nipples stiff in the cool air, fired his body with longing.
He had been holding back, making sure she reached the heights of pleasure, wanting her to know that she did not have to fear him. Now, hearing her moan with pleasure beside him, he could hold back no longer.
He knelt up, looking down at her. Moved to kneel at the end of the bed.
Her eyes flew open as he pushed his knee gently between her legs, pressing her thighs apart. He looked into those sweet sapphire blue eyes and asked a question. “Yes?”
“Yes.” He felt his body catch fire as she smiled at him.
He slowly pushed himself inside her. Her warmth and firmness drew him in, and he gasped. He had never quite believed this would happen. Being inside her, looking down and seeing her face, smiling in pleasure, brow knotted in a little frown.
It, he had to admit, was wonderful. He pushed into her again, and then drew almost completely out, loving the sensation of entering her again and again and again. His wounds stretched and pulled a little as he moved, but he barely noticed. His whole body strained for climax, swamping all else, all other sensations disappearing below the wild fire of his need.
He altered the angle and pushed in more, going slowly at first and then faster and faster, feeling his own need rising and growing, building up with each thrust, and each groan into a wild, unrelenting current of need that was drawing him on and on and on...
“Oh! Oh! Oh....”
He moaned and felt his body pumping inside her as he collapsed onto her soft skin, waves of release making him cry out in amazement. He lay in place, the pleasure of it rippling through him.
At length, he rolled off her, moved to lie beside her. She nestled closer and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Lass,” he murmured. “My Leona. My love.”
Leona snuggled against him, that soft, satiny skin pressing close to him. “My Conn. I love you too.”
He lay with her in his arms, listening to the sound of her breathing and knew that he could never have imagined being so happy.