Confessions

Chapter 11



The New Year celebrations at Nottingham Castle were a good excuse for a little levity. I was gradually recovering my health, and my husband had stopped drinking so much and was returning to his duties. Even Guy chanced the odd visit to my chamber to see me, when he was sure de Rainault was otherwise engaged, although the fragile state of my physical health at the beginning of December meant that these visits were strictly conversational. Even though he was still thin, he seemed to draw strength from the fact that I was getting better, and we began to try to look to the future.



We often spoke of running away, of leaving the castle and settling far away from here, but I think even then we both knew it would have been impossible. I was legally bound to de Rainault, and the only escape from this bond was death, his or mine. Much as I tried, I could not wish for my husband’s death; I did not hate him. I didn’t like him a great deal, but that didn’t mean I wished him dead. Guy himself was dependent on the Sheriff for his income, and a disgraced knight would find little employment elsewhere. For the moment, we resigned ourselves to secrecy.



The winter was a harsh one, and I was glad that I was regaining my strength enough to face it. For Nottingham Castle, the New Year period was one long round of banquets and parties, and I found that I was enjoying the season, although I did plead tiredness to my husband on a few occasions over the festive season. Most of the time, this tiredness was genuine, but I wanted the first man to touch me after my recovery to be Guy, and so I perhaps, for my sins, used the excuse rather too regularly. De Rainault didn’t seem to mind too much-he was not a man who naturally understood the complexities of women, and the fact that he didn’t have to copulate and then converse with me afterwards came, I suspect, as somewhat of a relief.



It was during the quieter moments of one of the banquets that I decided the time had come for Guy and I to become reacquainted with one another, and it needed to happen soon. I missed him terribly, even though I saw him every day. My husband was preoccupied with one of the local gentry, and I watched with some amusement his rather over solicitous attentions to the Baron’s wife, before I made my excuses and left the table. My husband waved me away unconcernedly, and I wandered up the stairs to my chambers. It was past midnight anyway, and I knew that de Rainault would not disturb me tonight. He’d had far too much wine to even consider it.



I undressed and slipped into my white cotton nightgown. Then, I unbraided my hair and removed what was left of my jewellery. It had been a long night. Looking at myself in the mirror, eight weeks on from the fall, I now bore very little physical evidence of the trauma I’d been through, and the bruises had nearly all faded. The emotional scars still ran deep, and more vividly, but they too were beginning, slowly, to heal.



Some little time later, I heard a gentle knock at my chamber door. Assuming it was my maid, I called for her to come in. As the door opened, I saw the slightly amused face of my lover, unruly hair and all, and I had to stifle a giggle.



“What happened to Margaret?” I asked him, as, looking quickly behind him to ensure he wasn’t being observed, he closed the door.



“I sent her away for the night,” Guy replied. “Damned woman wouldn’t leave at once though-she’s far too concerned that you might still be unwell.” He grimaced. “I had to virtually carry her away from here.”



I laughed. “Well, she’s nothing if not motherly.”



A shadow of sadness fell across Guy’s face and I realised I’d said the wrong thing. Quickly, I reached for my hairbrush and handed it to him. “If Margaret’s been dismissed for the night, you might as well make yourself useful,” I teased, lightening the mood once more. “One hundred strokes each side should do it.”



“As if I don’t spend enough time grooming Fury,” Guy grumbled. “Now I have to brush you too?” He walked around behind me and gathered my long dark hair up with one hand. I felt his warm fingers caressing the back of my neck as he brushed through my hair. The gesture was incredibly sensual, and I leaned into his caress. Dropping the brush on the floor, sensing that passion was stirring within me, Guy leaned over and kissed me. His mouth tasted sweet from the wine he had been drinking, and I began to ache for him in a way that I hadn’t felt for months. Deepening the kiss, he gathered me up in his arms and took me to the bed.



“I’ve missed you,” I murmured between kisses. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve missed you.”



“And I you,” he replied. “It’s been so long.” He broke the kiss to unbuckle his sword belt. “Are you sure it’s safe?”



“My husband’s perfectly preoccupied with the bosom of the Baron’s wife!” I giggled again. “We don’t need to worry about him for a while.”



From that moment on it was pure ecstasy. This was not the abandoned lovemaking of our past; we had both been through too much hurt over the past few months for that, but it was a tender expression of everything we had come to mean to each other. We were both stronger, and yet more vulnerable, because of the experiences of the autumn.



Guy slipped my nightgown over my head and hesitated for a moment. There was still a little bruising from the accident around my waist and on my thighs but it would not affect my pleasure.



“It’s alright, Guy,” I said softly. “I promise I won’t break.” I sat up in bed a little and made to lift his tunic over his head. He wriggled out of it, and I noticed with relief that he’d regained a little weight. He was still thin, but he no longer looked like a ghost. For a long moment we just gazed at each other’s bodies, relishing what we had been denied for so long. I gently ran my hand over his chest, tracing the fine line of blonde hair that ran downwards across his stomach and further. I was flattered to see him respond most intimately to this gentle caress and my hand lingered for a moment on his growing manhood.



The gentle, teasing motion was enough for Guy to take control. With a moan, he pulled me towards him and rolled over onto his back, so that I was on top of him. I was glad he did this, as I was still slightly tender and I didn’t know if I could take his weight if he chose to have me beneath him.



I was more than ready for him, and if I had the briefest doubt that I wasn’t, it vanished the moment he moved inside me. I looked down at his face and I relished the fact that his eyes were closed in pure enjoyment of the sensation of our bodies’ union. His large, long fingered hands gently held my hips and rocked me back and forth until I felt my own pleasure build and burst over me from the pit of my stomach. Sensing this release, Guy moved with me and I rode his movements until his own climax broke. He moaned a little too loudly and I placed a hand over his mouth by way of warning. He kissed my palm and I saw his eyes crinkle at the edges in a mischievous smile.



Slowly, regretting the fact that I had to move, I rolled away from him and we lay beside one another, still basking in our closeness.



“It’s been too long,” I murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from Guy’s eyes. “Let it not be so long next time.”



Guy took my hand again and kissed my fingers. It was a rare, tender gesture and I appreciated it. “It won’t be.” His eyes were two pools of deepest blue, and at that moment I felt truly safe.



The safety was fleeting. There was a knock at the door of my chamber.



“Yes?” I called out, turning panicky eyes on Guy, who looked equally frantic. Quickly, he scrambled out of the bed and crawled beneath it.



“It’s Robert.” The voice was quiet; humble even, much unlike his usual strident bark.



I paused, kicked Guy’s tunic under the bed and readjusted the sheets to cover myself a little more decently. There was no time to put my nightgown on.



“Come in,” I called, hoping my voice didn’t tremble.



The door opened and Robert walked into my chamber. He sat down on the edge of my bed and, to my surprise, he looked vaguely nervous.



“I was just about to go to sleep,” I said. I pointed to my nightgown, and, feeling rather guilty for slighting my maid, I said. “Margaret didn’t bring me fresh linen before she left.” I hoped this would prove an adequate excuse for my nakedness under the sheets.



“I won’t keep you,” Robert replied. He cleared his throat nervously. “Mildred, when you came here, I knew that you could never love me. I never expected you to.” He shifted around to face me on the bed. I said nothing, sensing that he wanted to continue.



“But I want you to know that since you’ve been here at Nottingham, you have brought more joy to my life than I ever could have hoped for.” His eyes searched my face, looking for some sense of what I was thinking. “When you lost our child, I wished there was something I could do, but I knew that there was not. I am not a loving man, Mildred, you know that as well as anyone, but I wanted you to know that you do mean something to me. You are not just an inconvenience.” As if he knew he’d said too much, he looked away, embarrassed.



“Thank you, Robert,” I said softly. “That means a great deal to me.” I accepted a kiss on the forehead from him as he stood.



Turning slightly, before he got to the door of my chamber, he looked back at me. “Goodnight, wife,” he said.



“Goodnight…Robert.” I replied. I couldn’t bring myself to call him husband, and it wasn’t just the fact that Guy was hiding under the bed. Robert was sincere, I knew, and I couldn’t meet his honesty with lies.



As he left, Guy scrambled out from under the bed. I giggled, as much to release the tension as at the sight of him, as his hair was covered in cobwebs.



“How dare he refer to you as wife?” He growled, shaking his head. “And to our child? The man’s in a dream world!” He sat down heavily on the bed and shrugged on his tunic.



“Hush Guy,” I said. “He’s been grieving too.” I put out a hand and touched Guy’s face. “Try to keep calm. Remember, we can only be together if he doesn’t know.”



“I know,” Guy still looked mildly petulant. “I just wish that I had had the means, a year ago, to take you as my wife and not have had to share you with him.”



“I would have hated you for it,” I replied. “A year ago all you were to me was the arrogant lackey of a hateful man. If you had made me your wife then, I would have taken my own life.” My honesty was brutal, but I squeezed his hand to soften the blow, as Guy looked momentarily angry.



“It’s only now, over time, that I realise how much you mean to me. But no matter how much that is, we must keep our secret for now. For both of our sakes.” I moved my hand to his cheek, and raised his eyes to look at me. Looking back at me were the eyes of a vulnerable man, a look I didn’t see very often.



Guy nodded. “I know. It’s getting harder and harder to keep this secret, especially when he touches you, but it must be kept. For now.” He kissed me gently, reverently, on the lips and held me close for a moment. Then, with an air of sadness that he had to leave, he stood and walked to the door.



“Goodnight…love,” he said, a trace of irony in his voice.



“Goodnight…love,” I repeated back to him. And I meant it. He was my love, for always. It didn’t matter what the church or the state said; our hearts knew it to be true.