Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,35

weddings have moments like this,” Adeliza said, a catch in her voice. “You must trust in God. Your husband is sober and that is a good thing.”

Matilda would rather he were dead drunk on the floor.

Her father arrived, his steps unsteady because, unlike his sonin-law, he had imbibed liberally. Geoffrey’s father swayed with him, and the bishop of Le Mans, all three cloaked in an air of well-fed and smug bonhomie. Geoffrey was manhandled to the bed by his cronies and bundled in beside Matilda. He pushed away the more inebriated of his knights with irritation. The guests gathered in a circle round the bed to watch the bishop bless the couple and wish them fruitfulness. Matilda thought of the moss sponge blocking the opening to her womb and felt triumph tinged with nausea. It was a sin, a terrible sin, but if it won her an annulment, it was a price worth paying.

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The blessing performed, the guests left the room, her father and Fulke of Anjou clasping shoulders and laughing like old friends. Adeliza went out with a parting glance of encouragement for Matilda, the smile still patched on to her face. Some of Geoffrey’s friends lingered, too drunk to be aware of etiquette.

Geoffrey left the bed, manhandled them out, and then slammed and bolted the door, ramming home the bar with force. He returned and stood at the foot of the bed and gazed at Matilda.

She took a swallow of wine and for the first time that day, studied him properly.

His hair fell over his brow in a red-gold tumble; a slender youth whose beard was little more than fluff, and whose smooth skin had yet to coarsen with stubble. Yet he had a shine about him and the looks of a fallen angel. A shiver ran through her. She wondered how much of his foolishness just now was bravado in the face of danger, and she did indeed have it within her to be as dangerous as a lioness stalking her prey.

His fine red brows drew together in a scowl. Squaring his shoulders, he came to her side of the bed. He took the cup from her and set it decisively to one side. Then he threw back the covers and pulled her to her feet. “Now,” he said, breathing swiftly, “let me see what I have given my oath for.” He had grown since their betrothal and was taller than her, and his grip was hard and confident. Through her revulsion, Matilda felt a frisson of desire. That he had taken the lead and pulled her out of the bed had surprised and unbalanced her; she had expected him to fumble when the moment came, and be gauche and indecisive. These were not the actions of a boy, but of a man accustomed to getting his own way.

Geoffrey unfastened the ties of her chemise and pulled the garment over her head. He looked her up and down with leisurely thoroughness before reaching out to fondle her breasts. Her nipples had stiffened in the cold and his hand was 88

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soft-skinned but firm with intent. “Your father wants a young stallion to prove his worth at stud,” he said huskily. “I thought you’d be a hag, but you’re not. It’s going to be a pleasure to do my duty.” His hand trailed down her body to her pubic hair. “I am adept at hunting through forests and finding hidden streams.” Matilda swallowed. She wanted to strike him aside, and at the same time she was aroused. Whatever he was or was not, this boy-husband of hers had a powerful physical charisma.

“I am going to get you with child. That’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s what you and your father need?” She gave him an icy stare. “Do what you must and let us be finished.”

He pushed her back against the wall and began kissing her, and she felt his hardness through the fine linen of his braies, and in that too he was most definitely a man. Plainly he was already experienced, because he was not awkward. She had thought to be able to disconnect from the event, but found herself responding and becoming involved, and while it was distasteful, there was pleasure too. She closed her eyes and made her mind a blank. She would think about it all later. His body was sinuous and smooth, but it was masculine too. The youth. The man. Desire