Mary Gillgannon (19 page)

“That was close,” he muttered. “Too close.”

His face softened and he reached out and pulled her to him, burying his hands in her hair as he kissed her. It was a desperate kiss, so full of hunger and longing it brought tears to Astra’s eyes.

Richard leaned away, his hands still caressing her neck. His gaze locked with hers. Slowly, his fingers trailed down her body. They lingered over her breasts and belly, then reached her hips and fumbled with the folds of her skirt. As Richard’s hand pressed against the heated, aching flesh between her legs, he brought his mouth close to her ear.

“You are mine, Astra,” he whispered. “I claim you now and forever. I will not wed you until I can provide for you, but never doubt that you belong to me, and me alone.”

B
y the time they reached the manor, the eastern sky glowed with the pale colors of dawn. Astra held the torn piece of her shift around her face and kept her head bowed while Richard exchanged a few words with the man at the gate. The sleepy-eyed guard let them pass without even glancing at Astra.

They moved unnoticed through the courtyard and found the kitchen entrance. To Astra’s surprise, Richard followed her in.

“You must not come with me,” she whispered. “What if you are seen?”

“Damn the risk. I want to see you safely to bed.”

Astra shook her head, but allowed him to follow her stealthily through the hall. At the corridor leading to the wing where the women slept, she paused and again motioned for him to leave her. Reluctantly, Richard nodded. He gave her a tender kiss and his dark eyes swept over her with an intensity that made Astra tremble. Fearing he would pull her into his arms again, she turned and ran.

* * *

Richard stretched out stiffly on his bedroll. The damp morning air, the night spent rolling around on the grass, the ache of unrequited lust—they all contributed to the discomfort of his body. But his heart—ah, that was another matter. He felt absurdly, deliriously happy. Astra loved him!

The thought made him smile and then laugh out loud. He grinned into darkness. He had not known until this night how much he loved Astra, how intensely he needed her. The feel of her body in his arms filled him with strength and joy. With Astra beside him, it seemed possible he could do anything.

A sense of awe filled him as he recalled Astra’s hips and thighs trembling as he pleasured her. Never had he known such delight in satisfying a woman. What would it be like when their bodies were joined, and he awakened the rest of Astra’s virginal passions? He closed his eyes and contemplated consummating their love. Surely the ground would shudder and the stars whirl madly in the heavens in the exquisite moment when he entered her.

But when would that be? He had used his success in Wales to convince the King to let him return to London. But once there, he would have little opportunity to be alone with Astra. She deserved to experience lovemaking in a place of beauty and comfort. How was he to arrange that? He was used to satisfying himself with women who did not care where he took them, or how. Astra was different. For Astra, he wanted a well-lit room where he could savor every inch of her spectacular beauty, a clean, sweet-scented bed with, aye, a silk coverlet. He wanted her to remember the magic of their first time forever. She would never forget him, her wild and passionate Black Leopard.

A twinge of conscience stabbed him. Once bedded, Astra would expect him to wed her. He was not yet ready for that. He feared marrying a poor woman, feared what the consequences would be if something happened to him before he had a chance to assure his fortune. Astra would be left alone. Widowed, without a rich dowry, she might not find a wealthy husband so easy to attract. If there were children, it would be worse. No, he could not marry her yet. He would not wed Astra until he could properly care for her.

* * *

“Astra! I’ve missed you dreadfully!”

Astra gave a cry of delight and joined her friend in an exuberant embrace.

“It has been so long,
ma petite
,” Marguerite exclaimed. “Let me look at you! Oh, you are more beautiful than ever.”

“It has not been so long. We were gone less than a month.”

“It seemed like an eternity,
ma belle
. You’ve no idea how dull London is without you.”

“I cannot imagine that. It seems London is always exciting.”

“There were entertainments.” Marguerite smiled enigmatically. “Without that nasty Isabel around to gossip about me, I managed to have a few adventures.”

“I don’t want to know,” Astra demurred, rolling her eyes. “I’m relieved at least that the Tower of London still stands.”

“What of you, Astra. Did you see Richard?”

“I... I did.” Despite her intention to appear confident, Astra’s words came out in a nervous, uncertain voice.

Marguerite’s face brightened. “What did he say?”

“I don’t want to speak of it here.” Astra looked around the crowded courtyard. Everything was chaos as the royal household and their baggage arrived at the palace. Squires and servants raced everywhere, carrying trunks, boxes, even the King and Queen’s personal furniture.

“We must find a private place,” Marguerite said. “I’m simply dying to know what transpired between the two of you.”

Astra allowed Marguerite to lead her through the bustling courtyard. She hesitated when her friend attempted to guide her into the Queen’s chapel. “Not here!” she protested. “We can’t talk in a holy place!”

“Why ever not? It is the perfect location for a private rendezvous. Hardly anyone ever comes here.”

“But it is sacred!” Astra could hardly imagine confiding what had happened with Richard
here
.

“Bother and nonsense! It’s merely quiet and private.” Marguerite grabbed Astra and pulled her into the chapel, leading her into a corner. “I’m not budging until you tell me about Richard.”

“Sweet Jesu, Marguerite. I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course you can. You merely open your mouth and say it.”

“But it is... so... embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing? How delightful!”

“Oh, Marguerite, if you knew what he did to me...”

Her friend gave her a worried look. “Dear Astra. I hope you didn’t heed my earlier advice. I’m not sure it would be wise to let Richard get you with child. If he refused to claim the babe, it could get most unpleasant.”

Astra shook her head impatiently. “I did not let him... that is... I’m sure there is no way I can be with child.”

Marguerite nodded, “You are a maiden still. That is a relief. But what did happen?”

Astra smoothed her traveling gown, trying to settle her nerves. “It did not go well in some ways. We had no chance to talk of marriage or our future. But he was very passionate, very possessive. He... he told me he loved me.”

“Did you meet him alone?”

“Aye, I did. I slipped out of the manor one night and went to his tent.”

“Holy Mother—you didn’t!”

Astra nodded. “I had help. Lady Alyce went with me. She convinced a guard to help us find Richard’s tent.”

“Lady Alyce? Oh, I know about her. She’s a slut.”

“Nevertheless, she helped me and told no one afterwards. I was very fortunate. It could have been disastrous when the King’s guards found us in the wood—”

“The King’s guard?” Marguerite interrupted, her eyes wide. “They saw you?”

Astra nodded. “It would have been terrible if they had recognized me, but Richard covered my face and then he pretended to...” She broke off, blushing furiously. She could not forget what it had felt like to have Richard’s hot groin rubbing against her own.

“He pretended to... Oh, my,” Marguerite giggled. “Sir Richard is rising in my estimation by leaps and bounds. He protected your honor with a most ingenious ruse... and of course it was at great sacrifice to himself.”

Astra tried not to smile. Looking back on it, the situation had been rather comical. “His subterfuge appeared to work. Even when rumors began to circulate about the knight and the half-naked woman found in the woods by the King’s personal guard, no one suspected me.”

“Half-naked! Sweet Jesu, Astra, what were you and Richard doing?”

Astra’s face flamed. She hadn’t intended to say so much. “Richard had to pull up my skirts to make it look convincing.”

“Of course, he had to,” Marguerite answered, nearly choking on her mirth. “He likely had to pull down his hose and stick it in, too. Otherwise, they might have thought he was just pretending.”

“Jesu, Marguerite! I told you we did not do
that
!”

“So you did. But you forget I am much more experienced than you, and I know there is a great deal you can do with a man without him actually sowing his seed.”

“I’m still a maiden, Marguerite! I didn’t even see him naked!”

 Not unless you counted what she had seen of him in his tent, Astra thought guiltily. And then there was the fact that even if she hadn’t seen his private parts, she had touched them through his hose.

Marguerite was silent, regarding her intently. “I know you well, Astra. Richard must have done something to you. When I look at you, I no longer see a shy, innocent maid. Whether or not he has accomplished it in fact, somehow he has made you into a woman.”

“Is it so obvious then?” Astra asked anxiously. “No one else has noticed, not even the Queen.”

Marguerite smiled. “It is a subtle thing. There is a glow about you, a lovely color in your cheeks. It is most becoming.”

Astra let out a sigh of relief. “I have been so worried. I was afraid Alyce would say something. Or the Queen would become suspicious. But no one said anything, and Richard and the other soldiers left for the Marches the next day.”

“But nothing is settled between you?”

Astra shook her head. “Richard was very ardent and possessive, but we never discussed the future. I’ve been thinking ever since, Marguerite, and I’ve finally decided on a plan to convince him to wed me.”

Her friend smiled. “Now you’re beginning to plot and scheme like me!”

“I feel sure Richard would marry me if he were more confident of his future,” Astra continued, ignoring Marguerite’s remark. “He wants to be rich, to have his own demesne and castle. I intend to go to the Queen and ask her if she will help him achieve his ambitions.”

“The Queen?”

Astra nodded. “Everyone says she is fond of me, and they also say she is the power behind Henry’s throne. If she cannot convince the King to reward Richard for his loyalty, no one can.”

Marguerite gave a most unladylike whistle. “It is brilliant, Astra. The Queen does dote on you, and she exerts a powerful influence on Henry’s decisions. If Richard were confident of his future, he would not hesitate to marry you. Will has already told me as much.”

Astra nodded, smiling radiantly. The thought of marrying her beloved Richard filled her with exquisite happiness. She could hardly wait to put her plan into action.

“Have you told Richard?”

“I have not spoken with him since that night in the forest.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t tell him. Perhaps you should speak to the Queen first and then, if she agrees, break the news to Richard later.”

Astra frowned. For all Richard’s ardent words and passionate lovemaking, he hadn’t actually proposed to her.

“I cannot go to the Queen until I am confident of Richard’s intentions,” she pointed out. “I will not presume...”

“That is nonsense, Astra. Richard has obviously taken liberties with you. He must wed you.”

“But he can be very stubborn. Richard would not like it if he felt I was making this decision for him.”

“Really, Astra,” Marguerite admonished. “Sometimes a woman must take these matters into her own hands. If you want Richard, you should be willing to do whatever is necessary to convince him to marry you. Unless, of course, you’d rather forget him and find a more compliant suitor.”

“Forget him?” Astra shook her head vehemently. “It is too late for that. For better or worse, my destiny is with Richard.”

“Well. Whatever he did to you in that darkened wood, it must have been extraordinary. I have never seen you like this, so determined and sure of yourself. The nuns of Stafford would never recognize the timid little novice they raised.”

Astra smiled uncertainly. If Marguerite only knew.

* * *

“Everything is ready?”

The dark, beetle-browed man named Repke nodded. “Just as you asked for, sire. The room is prepared—fresh rushes on the floor, a clean soft bed, the best Gascony wine, real wax candles, even a silk coverlet.” He regarded Richard with a twitching smile. “This one must really be something, to put the Leopard to such trouble. Usually you have no quarrel with tuppin’ ’em on a dirty straw mattress.”

“Aye, she is special,” Richard answered absently. “Nothing is too good for my lady.”

“A lady?” Repke’s beady eyes glittered, and he moistened his lips greedily, all but salivating over this juicy bit of information.

Richard gave him a threatening look. “Aye, she is a lady. She deserves privacy and discretion. I expect you to keep your knowledge of this liaison to yourself. If you don’t...”

He had no need to finish, for the man’s lascivious look rapidly turned to fear. “Certainly, Sir Richard. I am always discreet.” He touched his lips. “Sealed they are. They’d have to kill me to make me talk.”

Richard gave the man a cold look of disbelief, then handed him a bag of coins.

Repke walked away. Richard stared after him. This business was costing him a fortune. He’d had no idea a clean room and a few luxuries were so hard to come by in Southwark.

He looked around the filthy street. On the corner, two bawds in gold wigs and scarlet dresses flaunted their bare breasts to passers-by, while a wizened little man wheeled by a stinking cart full of dung. Southwark was a cesspool, as depraved as the cities Sodom and Gomorrah. Here a man could buy anything he wanted—sex in all its perversions, virgins and young boys, poison, a knife in the throat of an enemy. It was a pesthole, a nightmare of poverty, disease, violence and despair. It was no place for a sweet innocent like Astra.

He sighed, feeling torn. It did not seem right to bring his gentle angel here, and yet, it was the only way they could be safely alone. In Southwark a man could discreetly indulge his vices and everyone would look the other way. It was their only chance to experience the night of rapture he had planned since Woodstock.

And then what? Richard frowned. He was no closer to being able to marry Astra than he’d been before. The King was well pleased with the daring ambush they’d managed in Wales, but there was still no mention of a reward. Without a grant from the King, he could not hope to make Astra his wife. She deserved to be rich, to always dress like a fine lady, to have servants wait on her. He would not wed her until he could give her that.

He started to walk down the narrow street, so deep in thought he almost stepped into the foul, overflowing gutter that ran down the center. He swore and jumped to the side, glancing back uneasily. It was not like him to be so muddle-headed. That was one deleterious effect Astra had on him. The mere thought of her made him turn into an addle-pated idiot. He couldn’t afford to lose his edge. He needed to keep his wits about him at all times. That bastard Faucomberg might well be planning more trouble, and he must be ready for it.