The Marriage Prize (43 page)

Rosamond shook her head, not feeling beautiful. "I am no

longer slim."

"Nay, your soft curves make you extremely desirable. Your

body is so lush, it arouses me to madness. Let me show you!"

He scooped her up and carried her before the polished mirror.

Then he let her body slide down his until her feet touched the

carpet and she stood in front of him facing the mirror.

Rosamond watched, breathless, as his powerful hand slipped

around her and cupped her bare breast, the cal oused pad of

his thumb toying with her sensitive nipple. She drew in a swift

breath as a thread of fire ran from the tip of her breast, down

through her softly curved bel y, then burned its way to her

woman's core. Rod gently pul ed her back against him so that

she could feel the hard length of his arousal against her soft

bottom. She watched, mesmerized, as his fingers slowly

traced the curves of her body with reverence. She moaned

softly as he parted her legs and touched her most sensitive

place with his fingertips.

Slowly she became aware of how erotic it made her feel to

watch him in the mirror as he pleasured her. She arched back

against his hard body, relishing the tantalizing rhythm of his

fingers. Deliberately she brushed the soft curve of her bottom

across the sensitive head of his shaft and saw him shudder

with desire. She suddenly realized that in Rod's eyes she was

beautiful, and it changed al of her perceptions. The reflection

of their naked bodies, his so dark and powerful, hers so fair

250

and fecund, revealed a sensual, primal beauty she had not

recognized before.

He palmed her lush breast, stroking and caressing the silken

globe until she shivered uncontrol ably with the fierce need he

aroused in her. When his hot and hungry gaze met hers in the

mirror, she felt the tremors begin inside her and she thrust

herself against his burning fingers.

"You are beautiful in your passion," he whispered against her ear.

"You make me feel beautiful."

He picked her up and carried her back to the bed. Then he

laid her down and spread her hair about her so that she lay in

golden splendor. Rodger worshipped her with his eyes while

he quickly disrobed, then, unable to keep from touching her,

tasting her any longer, his hands and his lips caressed al her

body's silken pleasure points where his gaze had lingered.

Suddenly, Rosamond felt ravenous for him. Hungrily she lifted

her mouth for his ravishing and pul ed him down to her. She

opened her thighs, then wrapped her legs around him, sliding

them high about his back. She was in a fever of need as she

molded her body to his and cried out her pleasure as she felt

him bury himself hard in the scalding heat of her sheath.

As he unleashed the fierce desire that had been riding him for

hours, she cried out, "Rod ... Rod ..." Hearing his name on her lips inflamed him as nothing else could, making him groan

with a hunger of his own. He whispered love words, hot

passionate words that made Rosamond respond wildly. Her

senses reeled with the male scent of him, her blood pulsed,

and her body throbbed at the feel of every deep thrust.

Rodger felt exultant. He had vowed to make her crave him,

ache for him, and he had succeeded beyond his wildest

dreams. This was the way he'd always wanted her, moaning

and frenzied beneath him, as he brought her to her final

rapture. They spent together, clinging to each other in a hot,

shuddering release, then his arms tightened possessively,

holding her against his heart.

Rosamond sighed with pleasure as she lay against him, her

bodyrelaxing after the loving. "Rod, I wish I could believe you

were not plotting......I wish I could trust you."

His arms tightened protectively. "You can believe this: If you

give

251

me your trust, I wil never betray it." He stroked her silken hair possessively. "You know how I cherish precious things ... you

are precious to me, and this child is the greatest treasure you

could ever give me. I kiss your heart, Rosamond."

In the morning when Rodger left, Rosamond watched him from

her chamber window. He mounted his black stal ion, then

paused and looked up at the high tower. He touched two

fingers to his lips, then pressed them against his heart, before

he gal oped out along Kenil-worth's causeway.

******************

Mont-fort at the head of a huge armed force. Rodger drew rein

and Earl Simon did the same. The two men stil respected

each other despite the political choices they had made, and

Rod felt it was necessary to offer Simon an explanation for his

presence at Kenilworth. "My lord earl, I brought Rosamond to

visit with Lady Eleanor. My wife is carrying our child and

craves your wife's advice and reassurance."

The stern expression on de Montfort's face softened

somewhat. "Congratulations, Sir Rodger. Rosamond has

been like a daughter to us. She has always held a special

place in my heart. Be sure you take good care of her."

Rodger nodded solemnly as he gazed into the warlord's dark

eyes. "Rosamond is a prize beyond compare. I pledge to you

that I wil guard her with my life."

Griffin and Nan had already arrived at Tewkesbury Castle by

the time Rodger de Leyburn rode in. He had sworn them to

secrecy because he did not want Rosamond to have

knowledge of his plans while she was at Kenilworth. He

intended to use both Tewkesbury and Deerhurst, which were

only two miles apart, as gathering places for forces loyal to

Edward Plantagenet.

During the next fortnight, the Marcher lords, Mortimer, Hay,

Clifford, and Montgomery met with Rodger de Leyburn,

pledging their men-at-arms, Welsh archers, and cavalry

mounted on surefooted ponies. They were joined by the

western barons, Bohun and Bassing-bourne, and final y by

Lincoln de Warenne, whose brother, the Earl of

252

Surrey, was busy recruiting men in France. Foremost in their

minds was a plan to free Prince Edward.

"It is virtual y impossible to storm Kenilworth Castle and effect a rescue," Sir Rodger informed them. "Simon de Montfort is

presently in residence because he has invited Llewelyn of

Wales. Kenilworth not only bristles with men-at-arms, the only

entrance is over its narrow causeway."

"If we cannot rescue him, then Lord Edward must escape,"

swarthy Lord Mortimer declared. "We wil be ready with

horses, and I offer my castle of Wigmore as a refuge for him."

Rodger nodded his thanks. "Escape from Kenilworth would

be more than difficult. It would be far better if Edward were

moved to a less formidable fortress." He flashed his dark grin.

"I wil see if I can precipitate his removal from Kenilworth."

Twenty-three

At the end of June, Rodger returned to Kenilworth, and came

face-to-face with Simon de Montfort, who was entertaining

Llewelyn of Wales. "My lord earl, thank you for al owing me to

visit Rosamond. I promised I would return in time for her mare

to foal."

"Since it is ful moon, I accept your explanation, even though

my instincts tel me I should keep you and Lord Edward apart."

Rodger al owed a look of relief to transform his face. "He is

stil here then?"

"Stil here?" Simon said sharply.

"You have no plans to move him from Kenilworth?" Rod asked

anxiously.

Simon de Montfort was immediately suspicious that a plot

was afoot to rescue the heir to the throne. "Why are you

anxious that Edward remain at Kenilworth?" he demanded

bluntly.

Rod tried to recover what he had said. "I ... I only think that

Edward would be happier here with Harry and his uncle

Richard for company."

It was such a lame explanation that Simon de Montfort's

suspicion immediately doubled. "Llewelyn of Wales is here to

sign a treaty. Diplomacy works if given a chance; both

countries wil prosper from peace."

"If you trust the Black Wolf of Snowdon," Rodger said

smoothly.

"I trust no one," Simon said pointedly.

When Rodger took his horse into Kenilworth's stables to rub

him down, he found Rosamond in Nimbus's stal . She had

placed a blanket in the straw and, from the look of things,

planned to sleep in the stables.

"Oh, Rodger, thank you for returning today.... I thought you had

254

forgotten about Nimbus." Her face shone with relief and trust

in his ability.

"O ye of little faith," he teased. He was not surprised that she had made plans to face the mare's foaling alone, for

Rosamond always found the courage to do what she thought

was her duty. "I would much rather you left Nimbus to me,

sweetheart."

"Oh, Rod, I cannot! It is not that I don't trust you, I do. But I must be here to soothe her. I have attended many births and given

the women bayberry to ease the pain of long, hard labor."

"Rosamond, a mare foaling is different from a woman giving

birth to a child. A foal is encased in a sack of fluid when it is

born; the mare cannot have a long labor or the foal would die.

It usual y comes quickly, once a mare's labor starts."

"Real y?" Some of her worry melted away, but not al . "Please let me stay with you?"

Rodger cursed silently. He knew Nimbus was carrying twins,

and almost always the second foal was born dead. He could

not bring himself to tel her. "When it starts, you must stand

back and promise not to interfere."

Rosamond nodded her understanding and stroked Nimbus's

soft muzzle as she murmured endearments to her. After a

while, she sat down on the blanket next to Rodger and waited

patiently. At dusk the mare started to get resdess, and Rodger

knew that as the moon climbed the sky, Nimbus would foal.

Suddenly the animal was taken with a great shudder, and she

began to whinny. Rodger was on his feet instantly, his powerful

hand stroking down the mare's bel y. "Stand back,

Rosamond."

In fascinated horror, she watched her beloved palfrey go down

to her knees, then get back up again, heaving and

shuddering. Al of a sudden there was a great swooshing

sound, and an enormous quivering sack was deposited into

the straw. She watched Rodger fal to his knees and tear open

the thick membrane. Al at once the air was fil ed with a sweet

scent she had never smel ed before. Then Rod was helping a

cream-colored foal from the sack and pushing it toward its

mother.

"Oooh, it's so very beautiful!" Rosamond exclaimed with joy, laughing nervously as it wobbled on its spindly legs. "Oh no!

There's

255

another one?" she cried, al the joy leaving her voice as she

saw the smal , limp foal in Rodger's hands.

Rodger knew the smal er twin colt was dead as he tried in

vain to revive it. He made sure its mouth and nostrils were

clear, then tried to revive it by pressing on its fragile rib cage

in hopes it would take in air, but it was hopeless.

Tears of grief streamed down Rosamond's ashen face as she

mourned the dead baby horse. Rod cleansed his hands with

straw and took her in his arms. "Rosamond, can you not

rejoice for the foal that thrives?"

She stared up at him through her tears, and the wisdom of his

words slowly dawned on her. "Yes," she whispered, "I can ... I must." She went to Nimbus and stroked her muzzle. "Good

girl, sweet girl." She watched Rod rub straw over the foal,

though in truth there was no blood as in a human birth. She

smiled at him. "What is it, a male or a female?"

He smiled back. "It's a colt, a male, and he's hungry."

As they stood back watching Nimbus suckle her colt,

Rodger's arm slipped about her and pul ed her close to his

side. "Thank heaven you were here," Rosamond said. "I would have been lost without you." He felt his own child move in her

bel y and offered up a silent prayer.

******************

Edward. "Escape is not possible from Kenilworth."

"If it were possible, I wouldn't stil be here. Is my wife stil safe in sanctuary, Rodger?"

"Yes, and she is head over heels in love with you, my lord."

"And I with her. She is different from al other women."

"Therein lies the attraction, I believe—you find her different."

Rodger lowered his voice, even though they appeared to be

alone. "Mortimer offers his castle of Wigmore on the Welsh

border for your safe haven. If and when you are moved, we wil

arrange to have fresh horses awaiting your escape. As a

precaution, al the loyal forces we have gathered have been

moved to Ludlow Casde, about seven miles north of

Wigmore."

256

Edward nodded his understanding, then he cursed. "Llewelyn

is being treated like the Prince of Wales he thinks himself."

"Simon de Montfort knows he cannot fight us and Wales at the

same time, so he is kissing Llewelyn's arse."

"It makes me want to spew! The old lion, King Henry, my