Wolf Bride (4 page)

His kiss was bold and darkly possessive. Lord Wolf was sure of her acquiescence, she realised with a shock. Nor was he wrong. Eloise found her lips parting beneath his, her tiny gasp an opportunity for his tongue to slip inside.

Seeming to sense her surrender, he lifted her slightly, pressing her against the cold stone wall, just as Simon had done, and lowered his head again to claim her lips.

He tasted of heat and long summer nights, his scent as well as his hands enticing her closer, reminding her of spice and oranges. She had meant to resist, but it was impossible. His tongue traced slowly along her lower lip, then dipped back inside, stroking and flickering, promising the kind of sensual pleasures she had only dreamt of before in the privacy of her bed.

In a few ecstatic seconds, she had forgotten Simon’s boyish, enthusiastic kisses. This was beyond mere physical desire. His body weighted strongly against hers, he no longer needed to hold her still. His mouth teased and played her, one hand cupping her face, the other stroking her long hair.

Eloise moaned under his kiss, her eyes closing with pleasure. She felt new worlds opening up as he touched her, parts of herself suddenly springing to life under his hands. Her breasts tingled in a way she barely recognised, her nipples taut, pushing against the neckline of her gown. Between her thighs a strangely sweet ache had begun to throb, her flesh there slick with unaccustomed longing.

‘Yes,’ he muttered, as though she had spoken, and kissed all the way down her neck to her breasts, following the line his riding crop had taken.

Her skin felt scorched by his mouth, a new desire flaming inside her, stronger than any passion she had hitherto experienced. She was shocked but excited, recognising that impulse for what it was: a desire to lie with this man in complete abandon, to be possessed by him, and to let him see her own needs, naked and urgent.

He raised his head and kissed her mouth again. This time they clung together with equal passion, her hands gripping at his broad shoulders, her tongue sliding against his, instinctively bold, inviting an even deeper intimacy.

He laughed huskily, drawing back a little. ‘I thought so,’ he murmured.

She could not quite believe that she had been kissing him back, her lips tingling and swollen. Was that what he meant? That he had guessed at her passionate nature beforehand, perhaps when watching her with Simon?

Eloise drew back, turning her head away so he could not kiss her again. ‘Please,’ she whispered.

His gaze followed her, heavy-lidded with desire. ‘Please yes, or please no?’

‘I am not ready to . . .’

‘You think I mean to take you here, in this garden, where any man may stumble across us?’ He laughed, but did not release her. ‘I’m not your young suitor, who would have pinned you against this wall and taken you like a serving maid in the buttery. Where is the pleasure in such a rushed coupling?’

Lord Wolf kissed her again, but more gently this time, slipping his tongue into her mouth, seducing her with the hard warmth of his body.

‘No,’ he murmured against her mouth, ‘when I make love to you for the first time, Eloise, it will be in a comfortable bed where I can look upon you naked and enjoy your body for as long as I please.’

She was still hazily trying to shake off that sensual image of married delight when there was a sound of brisk footsteps in the cloister behind them.

‘Ah, there you are, my lord!’ With a shock, Eloise recognised her father’s voice and dragged herself free from Lord Wolf’s arms. ‘And my daughter . . . But I see you two are getting on well.’

She curtseyed to her father, her cheeks deeply flushed. ‘Father, I beg your forgiveness, but I must attend the queen before she misses me.’

‘Of course,’ her father said, his tone almost jovial, and kissed her on the forehead.

She examined him worriedly, for her younger sister Susannah had written that winter to say their father was unwell. But he seemed to have recovered. Once a man of imposing stature, her father was now stooped, his hair greying, his face lined. Nonetheless Sir John was still an active man, enjoying a ride or hunt most days, and seemed to have taken no harm from the lengthy and arduous journey south from their estate above York. No doubt he was delighted to find them together, she thought. With the wealthy Baron Wolf as a son-in-law, he would soon be able to rebuild much of their tumbledown estate.

‘It is most seemly that your duty to the queen should come first,’ her father continued, smiling. ‘Besides, there will be plenty of time for us to talk on the journey back to Yorkshire. Do not stare, my dear. You had best start packing your things and bidding your friends farewell, for we shall depart as soon as the queen gives permission for you to be released from her service. I shall send word ahead of our plans, and hope to see you both married in early spring.’

‘So soon?’

Lord Wolf looked across at her sharply, his brows arching at her exclamation. ‘The sooner the better,’ her prospective bridegroom remarked, already cool and controlled again, all traces of passion gone. ‘The court is a dangerous place for an unmarried woman. You will be much safer at your father’s house while we await the reading of the banns.’

‘Dangerous?’ her father queried, looking from one to the other in surprise.

‘Forgive me, father, my lord,’ Eloise repeated, curtseying with her head bowed. ‘The queen is most strict and I do not wish to be late.’

Turning before either of them could stop her, Eloise slipped away through the cloisters and hurried back to the queen’s apartments.

The love she had long felt for Simon had been revealed to her today as false, a shadow of love that had not survived the dawning of Lord Wolf’s appearance. How could she have believed Simon would be true to her? What a fool she had been. No wonder his lordship had laughed at her for encouraging such a youth in his attentions.

Yet she was not easy in her mind about this arranged marriage either. There seemed no way out that would not lead to disgrace and punishment. Yet if she could find an escape, she would take it. For although married life with Lord Wolf would never be dull, he was too experienced a lover to have felt the same way Eloise had done when he was kissing her, her blood on fire for him, her lips suddenly tingling with passion.

His desire would soon fade once they were married. Lust was a thing of the moment, easily forgotten by a man.

Then she would be left in the cold, abandoned while he moved onto a new woman – just as the king seemed likely to do if Queen Anne could not bear him a son.

The presence chamber was crowded, a chill February sunshine falling through high windows to warm the vast room. Standing in groups in doorways, or leaning wearily against the tapestried walls, gentlemen waited to present their petitions to the king. Courtiers and ladies of the court paraded themselves in brilliant silks and velvets like birds of paradise. The restless hum of conversation in the privy chamber rose and fell as each petition was presented, some pleas more interesting or contentious than others.

At last the name ‘Sir John Tyrell!’ was called out by the chamberlain, who struck his staff of office with a dull thud thrice on the floor.

Head held high, Eloise followed her father through the massed courtiers towards the high dais. There, above them, King Henry and Queen Anne sat enthroned, side by side, a lavish cloth of gold draped behind their heads.

This audience with the king had been delayed by several weeks, a period of waiting which had severely tested her nerves. Yet it could not be helped. Soon after her father’s arrival at court, King Henry had been thrown from his horse in a jousting accident and knocked senseless. He had swiftly recovered, thank the Lord, but it was whispered that his leg had been crushed and he might never dance again.

Outwardly, the king seemed his usual ebullient self. Those who attended him in his privy chambers, however, told of sudden, restless bouts of violence and temper such as they had never seen before. Though that was small wonder.

For Queen Anne, no doubt terrified that His Majesty might die, had miscarried her unborn child mere hours after his accident. Now the queen sat beside her husband like a wax effigy, white-faced and still, the king’s physicians having only recently pronounced Anne fit to leave her bed.

It was said the child miscarried had been a boy: the male heir to the throne so longed-for by the king.

Eloise knelt behind her father on the cold stone flags. That morning she had dressed demurely in a plain gown, covering her hair with a simple hood. She hoped that by appearing unattractive to Lord Wolf, he might choose some other girl to marry. But she suspected he would see straight through that strategy.

The other maids of honour giggled, winking at her. Lady Margaret hushed them with a frown, one eye on her grieving mistress.

A quick movement caught her attention, and Eloise glanced sideways through the crowd. It was Simon, splendid in pale yellow velvet, pushing through the other courtiers to stand against the wall near the dais. She had to bite her lip, looking hurriedly away before her colour rose.

So even Simon had come to watch her humiliation. How had she been so deceived in him?

Eloise had watched such marriage negotiations many times as one of the queen’s maids of honour, standing behind the dais or seated at the queen’s feet. Now it was her turn to be brought forward and her prospects discussed, a mere chattel in the hands of her father. Being in the queen’s service, it was up to the king and queen to decide her fate.

‘Lord Wolf!’ the chamberlain announced, bowing.

She did not look up, but heard footsteps on the stone floor and felt his gaze on her face.

Wolf paused beside her. ‘Eloise,’ he said quietly.

It would cause unwelcome comment if she did not respond. Proudly, she lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet his gaze. ‘Lord Wolf.’

Lord Wolf took her hand and raised Eloise to her feet. ‘I do not like to see my future wife kneeling like a servant.’

She was surprised by this gesture, then caught a warning glitter in his eyes as he glanced past her at Simon, still leaning against the wall tapestry.

Wolf was not concerned for her welfare, she realised with a flicker of anger. He was telling every man there that she was his possession.

The king had watched this exchange with interest, an avid look on his face.

‘I trust you slept well, Wolf? Though as I recall, you’re a man who can sleep anywhere, even among the dead on a battlefield. Look at this brave fellow, Anne. A better swordsman would be hard to find in all of England.’ King Henry held out his hand, and Wolf knelt dutifully to kiss it. ‘So you’ve finally chosen a bride to warm your bed. Well, it’s about time you secured your line, and she’s pleasurable enough to look on. You have my blessing on the match, as I told you yesterday. But did you have to find her among Anne’s own maids? The queen does not wish to part with her, for she needs all her ladies about her at this time.’

‘Forgive me, sire. I am most loath to distress Her Majesty with my request, but it is a good match and I should be less of a man if I did not pursue it whole-heartedly.’ Lord Wolf stood back from the dais, bowing to the queen. ‘My eye first fell on the lady when she was a girl. Now the wars are over and Eloise is grown to womanhood, I crave Your Majesty’s permission to claim her.’

Queen Anne studied Eloise in silence, then turned her gaze to Lord Wolf. ‘I have no desire for Eloise to leave my service,’ she declared, unsmiling. ‘The king has spoken to me on your behalf, and, believe me, I do understand the pressing nature of your claim. But you must look elsewhere for a bride. If I allowed my maids of honour to leave court and be wed whenever they wished, my lord, I would have no women left to attend me.’

Her father fell on his knees before the queen, his head bowed in deference. ‘Forgive my impertinence in taking away one of your ladies, Your Majesty. But as Lord Wolf has said, my eldest daughter is over-ripe for marriage. Indeed, if she waits much longer, she may never be wed at all. I would be very glad to see her wed to Lord Wolf, if Your Majesty could graciously consent to release Eloise from service. For once she is wed, I can find a suitable bridegroom for my youngest daughter Susannah, who is now of age and much admired amongst the landowners in the north.’

Queen Anne drew breath as though to deny him, but the king laid his jewelled hand heavily over hers.

‘Come, my love,’ King Henry told her, his voice unmistakably cold.‘Lord Wolf has fought stoutly for England and our throne. I have rewarded him for his service with land and goods. You can readily spare him one of your maids of honour for a wife.’

The court held its breath, waiting for the queen’s response to this veiled reprimand.

Queen Anne looked at her husband a long moment, and a flush crept into her cheeks. Stiffly, she turned her head towards Lord Wolf.

‘Take her then, my lord, and I wish you joy of her.’ Her voice was almost shrill. ‘But I trust Eloise will be speedily returned to me whenever I send for her in the future. Indeed, if she is not with child by the summer, she may take her place here at court amongst my married ladies-in-waiting.’

Lord Wolf bowed courteously. ‘You have my humble thanks, Your Majesty, and my promise as a soldier on that.’

It was over. The next petition was already being announced by the chamberlain. Eloise felt a despairing rage within her as her father was dismissed. She wanted to cry out to the king and queen, ‘What about me? Are my feelings not to be consulted? I do not even wish to be married to this man!’