She watched him as he began to kiss her fingertips. "I was afraid that if you bled to death, it would cause more harm to my family. I cared nothing for you."
He looked back at her with hot eyes. "Perhaps I can change that. Perhaps I can make you care." He put her small hand on his side and then moved toward her. Zared lay back on the pillows. "I do not believe that you can. No Howard could make a Peregrine squeal in delight."
He stopped kissing her ankle and looked up at her. "What do you know of squeals of delight?"
"I have heard many of them from my brothers' women, and you cannot wring such cries from me." There was challenge and daring in her eyes and a bit of a smile about her lips.
"Oh?" he said, accepting the challenge. "Let us see about that."
He began to kiss her then, and since he was not burdened by having to talk he could give himself over to his lust for her body. He kissed her and fondled her until he thought he might go mad. When he entered her he expected her to cry out in pain, but she did not.
"I liked that," she said later as Tearle was dozing in her arms. "Shall we do it again? Can it last longer this time?"
Tearle lifted one eyebrow and looked at her. "Perhaps. In a moment."
"Ah," Zared said. "I understand."
Had another woman said such a thing Tearle would have thought she did understand, but given Zared's experience in life, he doubted if she understood anything. "What do you understand?"
"That you are a weak and puny Howard, while I have the blood of falcons running through my veins. Do you think our children will be weak like you?"
At that he caught her and pulled her down beside him. "I will see who will cry 'enough' before this night is through."
Chapter Thirteen
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Zared sat down gingerly on the chair that was pulled up. to the table. Her husband looked at her smugly and with such a superior look that she grimaced. But she was happy, very, very happy.
Tearle smiled at her. "What say you we do today?"
"Teach me to read," she said before she thought, and he smiled more broadly.
What followed for Zared were two weeks of heaven on earth. She seemed to crave affection. It seemed that she wanted to make up for all the years she had been forced to act and look like a boy, and all she wanted to do were the most feminine things. Tearle, so unlike the men she had known all her life, was glad to show her all the most feminine arts.
He helped her choose gowns that he thought would look good on her. Each night he brushed her hair, both of them hoping that the brushing would make it grow faster.
They played games with each other and with the other people of his household. They rode and hunted and sometimes did nothing. He started teaching her to read, and he showed her some of the notes on a lute. Together they wrote a few poems, and Tearle told her she had a talent for poetry.
And through all of it they made love. Everything seemed to have some sexual connotation to them. The sight of a baby made them think of creating their own. Music made them retire to their chamber. Reading was lusty to them, especially since some of the poems that Zared created were quite bawdy.
Zared showed Tearle how to use a knife, and her demonstration nearly drove Tearle wild with desire. It wasn't that she was teaching him anything that he didn't know, but that she wore no clothes while demonstrating.
They played hide and seek for one whole day when it rained, and whoever found the other made love to the other on the spot, wherever they were.
Tearle, who had in the past made love to women mostly in secret, was fascinated with the freedom he had. He could have his wife any time he wanted her.
He was also fascinated by Zared. She had not been told what "ladies" should and should not do, so she was willing to try anything. Also, she was so athletic that sometimes she made him feel old and decrepit. She scampered up trees with the agility of a lizard. He followed her and then made love to her on a forked tree branch.
She had none of the fears that he had always assumed ladies were born with. She was not afraid of high places or of weapons or of charging boars or of his men.
One night as they lay together, sweaty and satiated, he asked her about her exuberance.
"Do you not see that I am free?" she said. "I have never been free before. You have had a life of such ease that you cannot understand what being a prisoner is like. You are so soft."
"Perhaps I am now, but I am not always soft," he said, some hurt in his voice.
"No, you goose, I do not mean that. I mean that you are soft inside. You are gentle and kind, and you are not driven by hatred."