The Velvet Promise (Montgomery/Taggert 2)

“You have come to mean a lot to me, John Bassett, and now I would have you be all.”

He touched the hood at her forehead, then pushed it away completely. “Come, then,” he smiled. “Let me see those fastenings.”

In spite of Helen’s brave words, she was afraid of John. She had grown to love him over the last few days, and she wanted to give him something. She had nothing except her body. She gave herself as a martyr. She knew men received great pleasure from the joining in bed, but for her it had only been a quick, rather messy affair. She had no idea it could be any different.

She was surprised when he took his time undressing her. She thought a man would have thrown her skirts over her face and been done with it. John seemed to enjoy touching her. His fingers along her ribs sent little shivers through her skin. He lifted her dress over her head, then her underdress. He stepped away from her and looked at her as she stood wearing only the thin cotton chemise and her hose. He smiled warmly at her as if her body pleased him. He put his hands on her waist, then lifted the chemise away. His hands were on her breasts instantly, and Helen gasped in pleasure at his touch. He brought his lips to hers. She kept her eyes open as She stared in wonder. His gentleness sent waves of delight through her body. Her breasts ached against the rough wool of his doublet. She closed her eyes and leaned against him, her arms tightening. Never had she experienced this feeling before.

John pulled away from her and began to remove his clothing. Helen’s heart was pounding. “Let me,” she heard herself say, then drew back at her own boldness. John smiled at her with just the expression she was feeling—rising passion.

She’d never undressed a man before, except to help a visitor who she was helping to bathe. John’s body was stout and muscular, and she touched his skin as each garment fell to the floor. Her breasts touched his arm, sending little sparks through her body.

When John was nude, he lifted Helen in his arms and carefully placed her in bed. She had a moment’s regret that now the pain would begin and the pleasure end. John lifted her foot and set it in his lap. As Helen watched breathlessly, he untied her garter and rolled the cotton stockings off, kissing her leg every inch of the way. By the time he reached her toes, Helen could no longer hold herself up. Her body was strangely weak, her heart was now hammering in her throat. She reached her arms out for him to come to her, but he would not.

He reached for her other leg. Helen knew she could bear no more. Her body was beginning to ache for him. John laughed throatily and pushed away her clutching hands. It was an eternity before he’d kissed the other stocking off.

Helen lay back against the pillows, weakly. John came to her, kissed her, and her hands buried themselves into his shoulders. He ran his hand firmly down her side and pulled away her underpants. She pressed against him, could feel that he was ready for her. But John was not through with his torture of her. His head bent to her breasts, his tongue and teeth making little nibbles on the hard pink crests. Helen moaned, her head moving from side to side on the pillow.

John slowly moved a leg on top of her, then his whole weight. How good he felt! He was so strong and heavy. When he entered her, she cried out. She felt that she may as well be a virgin for all the experience she’d had in pleasure. Her husband had used her body, but John made love to her.

Her passion was as fierce as John’s, and they came together in a fiery explosion. He pulled her close to him, his arm and one leg thrown across her as if he thought she’d try to escape. Helen burrowed herself even closer to him. If possible, she would have liked to s

lip inside his skin. Her body began to relax in the delicious pleasure of the aftermath of a night of love. She fell asleep with John’s soft breath in her ear and on her neck.

Judith sat at the high table between Walter and Arthur. She picked at her food, unable to choke down the poorly cooked meal. But had it been the best food, it would not have mattered. She wore a cream silk undertunic and over it a gown of royal blue velvet. The large, hanging sleeves of the gown were lined with blue satin which was embroidered with tiny gold half-moons. A gold filigree belt with a buckle set with a single large cabochon sapphire was about her waist.

Walter’s hands constantly touched her. They were on her wrists, her arm, her neck. He didn’t seem to realize they were in a public place. But Judith was very aware of the twenty-five knights who unabashedly stared at her. She could feel the speculation in their eyes. As she jabbed her fork into a piece of beef, she wished it were Walter’s heart. It was a difficult thing to swallow one’s pride.

“Judith,” Walter whispered hoarsely into her ear. “I could devour you.” He pressed his lips to her neck, and she could feel shudders of revulsion shaking her. “Why do we wait? Can’t you feel my love for you? Don’t you know of my desire for you?”

Judith kept herself stiff, refusing to allow herself to pull her body away. He nibbled at her neck, nuzzled her shoulder and she couldn’t show how she felt. “My lord,” she managed to say after several hard swallows, “don’t you remember your own words? You said we must wait.”

“I cannot,” he choked. “I cannot wait for you.”

“But you must!” Judith said with more anger than she had intended and jerked her hand from his violently. “Listen to me. What if I give in to my passions for you and go to your bed? Don’t you think a child would be made? What will the king say when we appear before him with my belly swollen? Do you think anyone would believe the child is not my husband’s? No annulment can be had if I carry his child. And you know a divorce must come from the pope. I have heard that one takes years.”

“Judith—” Walter began, then stopped. Her words made sense. They also appealed to his vanity. How well he remembered Robert Revedoune saying that he gave his daughter to the Montgomery men to get sons. He knew he—Walter—could give her sons! She was right. If they were to come together, they would create a son in the first mating. He took a deep drink of wine, his mind mixed with pride and frustration.

“When do we go to the king, my lord?” Judith asked bluntly. Perhaps she could arrange an escape on their journey.

They sat at the dinner table, but Walter paid little attention to his audience. Now Arthur spoke. “Are you anxious to declare your desire for an annulment to the king?”

She didn’t answer him.

“Come, my lady, we are your friends. You can speak freely. Is your passion for Lord Walter so deep that you cannot wait to declare it to the world?”

“I don’t like your tone,” Walter interjected. “She has nothing to prove. She is a guest, not a prisoner. She was not forced to come here.”

Arthur smiled, his eyes narrowed. “Yes, she came freely,” he said in a loud voice. Then, as he reached past Judith for a cut of meat, he lowered his voice. “But why did my lady come? I have yet to have an answer.”

The meal seemed horribly long to Judith and she couldn’t wait to leave. When Walter turned his back to her to speak to his steward, Judith seized the opportunity to get up from the table. She ran up the stairs, her heart pounding wildly. How much longer could she hold out against Walter Demari? Each minute his advances became more forward. She stopped running and leaned against the cold stone wall, trying to recover herself. Why did she always believe she could handle everything by herself?

“There you are!”

Judith looked up to see Arthur standing near her. They were alone in a deep recess of the thick walls.

“Are you looking for an escape route?” he smirked. “There is none. We are quite alone.” His strong arm reached out and encircled her waist, pulling her close to him. “Where is that ready tongue of yours? Are you going to try to talk me out of touching you?” His hand ran over her arm, caressing it. “You are lovely enough to cause a man to lose his mind. I almost understand Walter’s reluctance to bed you.” He looked back at her face. “I see no fear in those gold eyes, but I would like to see them blaze with the heat of passion. Do you think I could make them do so?”

His hard lips swooped down on hers, but Judith felt nothing. She remained rigid against him.