Lady Trent (32 page)

“Have you ever ridden?” Jacob asked her.

“Ridden?” She raised a brow. “You mean…?

He nodded.

She laughed. “Surely you know it was
forbidden. Even amongst common folk and heathen, women do not
ride.”

“Well, then, you shall learn to do so
today.”

The maiden handed her the clothing, which she
unfolded and held out to view with much uncertainty: a pair of
breeches and a shirt, suitable for a man. Had a woman ever worn
such garments?

“I had them made especially for you while you
were away at Orland. The seamstresses are well acquainted with your
measurements.”

“Surely you do not approve of this. And even
so…who else would?”

“It will be well,” he told her. “There are
places I have meant to take you, only we must ride to get there.
You could very well ride with me, but I think it would be more
enjoyable if you had a horse of your own, which I am confident you
would learn to handle with ease.”

So he left her alone to get dressed, and she
could not help but smile and giggle at the image in the mirror, and
to admit that this new look was something she wanted him to
see.

So she presented herself, noting the approval
in his eyes as very many curves were revealed that had before been
hidden. He quickly swept her away, and proved himself correct. He
taught her to ride that day, and took her to those places he’d
wanted her to see, specifically one. A place of sentiment which she
assumed had come to his remembrance following Marcus’s
announcement…during the time he lay sick in his bed.

It was a graveyard. Not one where his fathers
had been put to rest, for he made it known that those who became
lord of the Great City were buried alongside the emperors in the
Northern Isles. These were those who had no such privilege. His
mother. His mother’s father and mother and theirs, his father’s
mother and her’s. His two wives. And his son.

There he knelt down, touching a hand to the
grave. She watched from a distance, not really knowing what to do.
She only knew to keep silent. For however long it took for him to
speak again, which seemed a very long time as he simply stared upon
the grave of his one and only child. He did not cry, no not a
single tear so far as she could see. She only noted a barely
visible grin upon his lips, and decided in her heart that he was
thinking upon the pleasant moments he’d shared with his child. The
good memories.

He eventually stood. “Forgive me, I have lost
track of time.”

No need to apologize. I would stay here so
long as you wish.”

They remounted their horses and departed the
scene, eventually entering into a field, which he proposed to use
as a space for her to perfect her riding skills.

“One never knows,” he began, riding along
beside her, so close he was able to reach out and take her hand.
“There may be a time when you must swiftly go from one place to the
next.” His face became serious, but only for a moment. He released
her hand, and insisted they speed their horses. She went along with
him, and just as he’d supposed, she handled the steed with ease, as
if she had ridden all her life.

They eventually returned to the palace, and
laughed as they rode by the many, many onlookers who gaped upon the
sight with total confusion. All they could do was laugh about
this.

At this point they were both very hungry, so
he made orders for dinner to be served earlier than usual, and sat
in his private drawing room while the cooks busied themselves with
the sudden demand.

“I suppose I should change,” she
suggested.

He stood. “If it is at all well with you, I
prefer you stay as you are.” He came close and suddenly took her
into his arms, holding her. “Even if I may not have you,” he said
close to her ear, “it does me good to see you as you are…the nature
of your frame, which I find quite appealing. This gives my
imagination further room to contemplate what is mine to begin with;
although I may not be at liberty to examine…my imagination could
use this new vision of you to keep me at ease a little while
longer.”

His words were very enticing to her. She felt
an urge to tell him to take her to his chambers then at that time
and to make love to her, but she did not. For she kept recalling
his illness, his death which they all awaited, and the ever
after…her future. Just what would life be with him gone from it?
Never the same, she imagined. Not the same at all.

Camille came to mind, and she now understood
completely what she meant. A strong woman, she was, to have held on
to her calling despite having known love for a man, lust for a man,
having not succumbed to it, but to her calling only. Rachel
wondered if she could be so strong.

They were summoned to the dinette, seated and
served. Shortly after, Percival entered the room with a message,
stating, “It is from Sir Marcus.”

Marcus, having also been refused during
Jacob’s illness, had simply rode away and nobody heard from him,
not until this—a message stating he was on his way to the Great
City, and that he planned to stay a while during the construction
of his home.

Jacob was pleased with this, which pleased
Rachel as well…for her husband’s sake, of course. He laughed quite
pleasantly upon reading the message.

In days to come Jacob ventured out very
little…as if to completely and purposely forsake particular
endeavors. He left the collection of rents in charge of one Sir
Miles, and the disputes between the common folk in charge of one
Sir Gareth. And other matters into the hands of Sir Edward and
guards of his choice. Matters of the court were held off. Prisoners
that were taken in…well, their cases were not heard so swiftly as
once before.

He did, however, begin to dedicate a great
deal of time to studying his maps, which he gave no particular
excuse for. Rachel occasionally studied with him. She was
intrigued, for his maps were continually updated, and revealed so
much more of New Ebony than she’d ever been aware of. Westerly’s
maps were not so updated, no, not near as accurate as these. Quite
the contrary.

During the evening, he made orders to invite
guests so that they could eat, drink and be entertained in the
Great Hall. This became a regular routine. Also, they took time out
to stroll about the gardens and along the shore of the ocean which
she’d come to love more than anything else.

“I hope you have not tired of me,” he said
one evening while escorting her to her private quarters.

“Not at all,” she said with a genuine smile,
holding to the crook of his arm as they made their way up the hall,
closer to her chamber. “I will likely be disappointed after this
has passed and you decide to rededicate yourself to the activities
you have placed into the hands of others, which I suppose to be a
temporary arrangement.”

They stopped before the door of her chambers.
Caleb, who stood guard there, stared straight ahead as if to not
acknowledge them at all. Such was the manner of any man in place of
guarding doors and entrances.

Jacob bent and planted a very gentle,
feathery kiss upon her cheek. Her eyes closed while it lasted, and
then opened again as he began drawing away. He gave the hand he’d
held to a light squeeze before releasing it altogether.

“Have a pleasant night,” he told her. “Sleep
well.”

And he was gone.

******

She later stood out on the balcony, her gown
blowing with the gentle evening breeze, and her robe which she’d
left undone in the front flapping with the shifting of the wind. A
fist pressed against her chin, she stared up at the bright moon, so
many pleasant memories passing through her mind, this time slowly
so as she had a chance to take hold of any single one and dwell on
it a little longer than the others. She smiled at some of them, and
then frowned as she considered her desire to be with Jacob, to
create a memory she had only imagined, constructing images of her
own as to what it would be like to have him make love to her. At
times she burned for him to do so, and even trembled at his
slightest touch. She was amazed at the power she had over the
demand of her body, for despite the aches and terrible desires, she
resisted…as did he, for he had not once tried to verbally persuade
her to go against what they had agreed upon to begin with.

She visualized him as she knew him to be, as
she’d witnessed him to be, and smiled. As usual, the face in the
moon smiled back down at her. She stared beyond at the city, lit up
beautifully, making it all the more intriguing. The Great City was
certainly worthy of its name.

Her gaze lowered from the lights and the
structures to the gardens below. Was it midnight already? She
wondered, and did not bother to move while a damsel and her lover
gave place to their desires. She simply watched, paying attention
to every move of the hand, to every reaction, every kiss, and every
gentle push after he’d lifted her skirts, unsnapped his breeches,
and took her thrust after thrust after thrust. She noticed every
pleasurable expression, and heard the sounds of their lovemaking,
carried up with the breeze and into her ears.

Very calmly she turned around, and with slow
steps made her way from her room, her chamber, down the hall. She
came upon the entrance to Jacob’s private quarters. The guards did
not move, not even their heads, only their eyes as they glanced at
her thru the corners of them. She stepped past them, pushing opened
the doors, and entered Jacob’s private quarters. Slowly, she closed
the doors behind herself, and took soft, graceful steps toward the
adjoining chamber—Jacob’s bedchamber.

At the doors she did not hesitate, but pushed
them opened and went inside. Step after step brought her closer to
his bed. She raised slow hands, using them to slide her robe down
her shoulder, from her body and to the floor. And with another slow
hand, she reached for the silky strings below her neck, pulling the
end of one so that it unloosed the bow it’d been tied into. She
stopped at the edge of the bed, staring down upon Jacob’s sleeping
face, his still, relaxed form beneath the sheets of his bed. She
took hold of her gown from the hips, easing it upward, and then
raised her arms, bringing the garment with them, pulling it up and
over her head, and dropping it onto the floor.

Her naked body slightly quivered, not as she
was cold. No she was just the opposite. She burned from the inside
out so that even her skin was very warm. But she quivered as she
contemplated the distance between herself and her husband, and how
very close she was to consummating their marriage. It was
impossible now to resist doing so. Yes, she would this night give
up her virtue. She would this night for a certainty become Rachel
Trent, Lady Trent…Jacob’s wife, completely.

She stared down upon him. She did love him.
She loved him dearly, and the idea of doing this was not regretted
in the slightest. She wanted to be made love to by this man. Just
like the damsel in the garden. She wanted to give herself to him.
He could take this ache from her. Do away with it once and for all.
Do away with the turmoil of wavering between emotions and
affections. She would let him.

She lifted a knee, raising herself onto the
bed. With a slow hand, she took hold of the edge of the sheet,
pulling it just so far as to slip beneath it. She slid herself onto
the bed, under the sheet, and against the warmth of his body. She
snuggled and then melted against him, almost as if to become one
with him. This felt right to her. This felt pleasurable in itself,
to feel the touch of his bare skin against her bare skin. It was
almost as if they belonged this way.

She closed her eyes, resting her cheek
against his strong chest. Jacob moved, awakening by the feel of her
body against his. He lifted a hand and then lowered it to caress
her cheek, her hair…as if to be sure it was her.

She rose up upon one arm to look down at him
so that he could see with his eyes…yes, it was her. Yes, she had
joined him in his bed…naked, as was he. His tired but uncertain and
confused eyes searched her face, and then her breasts, bare before
him. Pleasure and desire and lust flamed in his eyes. She saw so
from the moonlight cascading over them where they lied.

His brows came together while a hand came up
to caress her shoulder. “Rachel,” he whispered, and she noted the
sudden rise and fall of his chest. He ran the tips of his fingers
from her ear, along her jaw to her chin, and down her neck. “What
are you doing?”

“Visiting,” she quietly said.

“Visiting,” he repeated, obviously
confounded.

“I am sorry that I awakened you,” she said,
although she really didn’t mean it.

Again he asked, “What are you doing?” To this
she raised her free hand, touching a palm to his temple, running it
down to his cheek, and she lowered her face to drop a kiss upon his
lips. She rose up again, not so very far. “I want to stay this
night with you,” she told him, running her fingertips down his neck
and shoulders. Again she lowered her lips to kiss him. He almost
responded to this. She lifted her face only inches from his, adding
to what she’d said before, “As your wife.”

“Rachel,” he whispered, “What has brought
this about?”

“Desire that I’ve grown tired of fighting.
Jacob, I do not care to think about the future and what will become
of me. I wish to consummate our marriage…tonight.”

He took her face between his hands, caressing
her cheeks with his thumbs. He kissed her gently on the lips and
pulling away asked, “Are you sure of it?”

She moved closer, closing her eyes, and
closed her lips over his, and then again as he returned the kiss.
She pulled away, his face now a blurry image before her.

“I love you truly, Jacob, and I have these
desires inside of me that I can no longer overcome.”