Rosehaven (Medieval Song 5)

He moved more deeply now, and she felt him touching her as only he could. She didn’t think again for some time. When at last she was breathing more easily, feeling the heat of him against the length of her, knowing that a woman couldn’t be happier or more content than she was at this moment, she said again, “What do you mean that your mother loves you? Naturally she loves you. You are her son. What do you know? What is this about Dame Agnes and Alice? What about laughter?”

“My mother told me you were always in your best humor when you were working in your herb garden. She said it was there that I had my best chance of having you decide to work your skills on me.”

She was frowning ferociously up at him. He leaned down and kissed her open mouth. “Do you not remember, Hastings? I came upon you twice in your garden. That first time you gave me a provocative look and talked me into taking you into the forest to punish you. The next day, I was no sooner a shadow on your mugwort than you were hurling yourself against me and begging me to take you back again.”

“Aye, I know all about that, but why do you bring it up and in such detail? You sound as if you know more than you should about the entire matter.”

“Ah, now I have your attention.” He gently came out of her and went down onto his back. He drew her against his side, but she reared up over him, staring down at him. “My mother told me what Dame Agnes and Alice had advised you to do. She was laughing when she said that you had wondered if this would always be their only advice. When I saw them, I agreed that it was the best advice they could ever serve you. They told me everything, Hastings.”

She closed her hands about his throat and tried to squeeze, but her hands just weren’t big enough. “I should be furious with all of you. I should yell and stamp and throw the laver at all of you.” Then she leaned down and kissed him, shrugging those lovely white shoulders of hers. She whispered against his mouth, “Alice said that men were simple. Dame Agnes said that the second time more skill was required but she believed I could do it. I too believed it was wonderful advice.”

He squeezed her against him. “All of us decided that it would calm your humors and make you realize that your husband wanted you more than he wanted Oxborough itself or a string of titles. Did I not prove myself to you those two afternoons in the forest, Hastings? I let you do just as you pleased to my man’s body. Did I not compliment you on your skill?”

“No, all you did was moan and groan and thrash about.” She fell silent. She was still furious at the women who had advised her with such seriousness. She had trusted them, yet they had discussed everything with him and Lady Moraine. “I cannot believe that they told you, that they asked you what you thought of their advice to me.”

“I made only one or two corrections in their advice.” He shrugged, knowing she wanted to hit him since she couldn’t manage to strangle him. “Do you want me to tell you exactly what they were?”

“I know what they were,” she said, and stroked her hand down his belly to find him. “Aye, I know exactly what they were.”

She moved against him and he smiled against her hair, then he groaned. He wanted to talk to her, not make love to her again. He sought to distract her and himself, particularly himself, since her hand was caressing him. “I can feel that small curve now. Thank you.”

There was a muffled mewling sound. Hastings released him. He sighed. They sat up and pulled up the covers. A ruffled Trist slipped from beneath a sheet and came up to Severin’s chest. They lay down, taking turns stroking his thick fur.

“You didn’t ask Trist to advise you, did you, Severin?”

“Trist always knows what I’m about.”

The marten mewled loudly and stretched himself out over the both of them.

“He has also disrupted our play.” Trist batted Severin’s chin with his paw.

“You are well, are you not, Hastings?” She felt his hand lightly rest on her belly.

“Aye, but I believe I will not fly off any more cliffs until after our babe is born. No, don’t stiffen up, it annoys Trist. It was a jest, Severin, just a jest. I am very well. You are not to worry. Now, should we move Trist and continue with our play?”

Severin’s hand was quiet on her belly. She heard his breathing even. Trist was stretched his full length atop both of them. “I have brought down the warrior, Trist. I have done to him what Belle does to the armorer. What do you say to that?”

Trist trilled a snore.

Epilogue

IT WAS THE NIGHT OF THE WINTER SOLSTICE, A FRIGID NIGHT with the wind howling off the sea, coming through the thick walls of the castle, making the tapestries billow and flap. Thick snow filled the courtyards.

Trist had been gone for two days.

Severin was frantic. He would not eat. He just sat in his chair and stared over Edgar the wolfhound’s head into the huge fire that burned in the middle of the great hall. Smoke billowed upward, turning the air blue.

“He is dead.”

“You do not know that.” But Hastings feared the worst as well. Everyone did. Her four sisters were clustered next to their mother, watching her sew, all of them quiet.

“I should never have let him leave me.”

“You had no choice. Trist does as he pleases.”

“He is just like you. I ordered you never to leave the great hall without my permission, yet you were feeding chickens the very next day.”

“I will not leave the great hall now. Trist will be all right, Severin. Have faith.” It sounded hollow, but she knew that Father Carreg had said it several times already to Severin, trying to comfort him.