Read Online Betrayal (Book 2: Time Enough to Love) by Jenna Jaxon - Free Book Online
Authors: Jenna Jaxon
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need to claim her or else suffer ridicule at the hands of the courtiers. Why had he not told her the truth?
She looked up to find him engaged in some rude jest with his friends, likely at her expense. One more grievance to lay against him. Trying to ignore them, she willed herself to control her anger. Then a small movement drew her attention to Lady Carlyle, standing almost beside Thomas. Her eyes, riveted to him, revealed a hunger as deep as his had been moments before when he beheld Alyse. She remembered Thomas paying court to Lady Carlyle in the joust procession and at the banquet. Were there other, more intimate times as well? The woman’s actions toward Alyse tonight suddenly made perfect sense. Simple jealousy had been behind her disrespect.
Astonishment at the one revelation gave way to another: her pulse pounded with the selfsame jealousy. A possessiveness she had not expected reared its head and seized her.
He was her husband now. Hers alone.
With a brief glare at the woman she now deemed her adversary, Alyse turned her gaze to her bridegroom and steeled herself. Time to bed the bride.
* * * *
“We certainly see you stand ready for this joust, Lord Braeton.” Sir Robert Spencer laughed and nudged Patrick Sullivan.
“Wield your weapon well, Thomas!” Roger Delaney shouted from the corner, where he had withdrawn with Lady Catherine.
Thomas broadened his grin to a leer.
Give them a show so they will believe what they will not see .
“Doubt it not, gentles. My bride will feel its sting ere long. I know this business well, as many have reason to know.”
A small gasp, and from the corner of his eye he saw Lady Carlyle step back and turn away.
Beg pardon, Ysabel .
Their dalliance had lasted longer than expected, though the passion had burned bright throughout. Even so, they were done. She had to find another lover or return to her husband. If he chose to stray now, he would be more discreet about it, for Alyse’s sake.
Alyse. She most likely cursed him for a liar. He could calm her fears when they were abed, but for now he had to play his part eagerly. Thank God the sight of her in that wisp of a garment had inflamed him mightily. Most of these people would believe he would be inside her the moment the curtains were drawn. So much the better. No doubt Alyse thought the same.
Thomas glanced at his wife, expecting a glaze of terror—and instead looked into eyes filled with a ferocity he had never beheld there before. They shifted back and forth from him to the retreating figure of Lady Carlyle. So the seeds of jealousy had taken root. A new development. Mayhap this night would end in true marriage rather than counterfeit.
“Are you prepared, wife?” He ran his hot gaze over the proud form before him.
“I am, my lord.” Her calm voice held only a touch of nervousness. She had recovered well from the sight of his nudity. Given the circumstances, a truly remarkable woman.
“Then let us proceed.”
The male courtiers surged forward, grabbed him, and tossed him onto the petal-strewn sheets. The women also seized Alyse and pushed her toward the far side of the bed. They lifted her onto the mattress, pressed her back against the array of pillows, and carefully arranged her hair to drape around her breasts. At long last, they drew the sheet up over the couple.
When they had finished, Thomas had to bite back a laugh. His shaft had tented the sheet, and judging by Alyse’s wide, staring eyes, and a subtle movement toward the edge of the mattress, the sight thoroughly appalled her.
Father Andrew, one of the chapel priests, stepped forward, swinging a censer, and intoned, “Lord, bless this bed that the union of this man and this woman may be fruitful under Your blessed sight. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, Amen .”
As the priest stepped back, Lady Maurya and Lady Anne came forward to pull the curtains around the bed. The heavy material cocooned them in darkness with the heavy smell
She looked up to find him engaged in some rude jest with his friends, likely at her expense. One more grievance to lay against him. Trying to ignore them, she willed herself to control her anger. Then a small movement drew her attention to Lady Carlyle, standing almost beside Thomas. Her eyes, riveted to him, revealed a hunger as deep as his had been moments before when he beheld Alyse. She remembered Thomas paying court to Lady Carlyle in the joust procession and at the banquet. Were there other, more intimate times as well? The woman’s actions toward Alyse tonight suddenly made perfect sense. Simple jealousy had been behind her disrespect.
Astonishment at the one revelation gave way to another: her pulse pounded with the selfsame jealousy. A possessiveness she had not expected reared its head and seized her.
He was her husband now. Hers alone.
With a brief glare at the woman she now deemed her adversary, Alyse turned her gaze to her bridegroom and steeled herself. Time to bed the bride.
* * * *
“We certainly see you stand ready for this joust, Lord Braeton.” Sir Robert Spencer laughed and nudged Patrick Sullivan.
“Wield your weapon well, Thomas!” Roger Delaney shouted from the corner, where he had withdrawn with Lady Catherine.
Thomas broadened his grin to a leer.
Give them a show so they will believe what they will not see .
“Doubt it not, gentles. My bride will feel its sting ere long. I know this business well, as many have reason to know.”
A small gasp, and from the corner of his eye he saw Lady Carlyle step back and turn away.
Beg pardon, Ysabel .
Their dalliance had lasted longer than expected, though the passion had burned bright throughout. Even so, they were done. She had to find another lover or return to her husband. If he chose to stray now, he would be more discreet about it, for Alyse’s sake.
Alyse. She most likely cursed him for a liar. He could calm her fears when they were abed, but for now he had to play his part eagerly. Thank God the sight of her in that wisp of a garment had inflamed him mightily. Most of these people would believe he would be inside her the moment the curtains were drawn. So much the better. No doubt Alyse thought the same.
Thomas glanced at his wife, expecting a glaze of terror—and instead looked into eyes filled with a ferocity he had never beheld there before. They shifted back and forth from him to the retreating figure of Lady Carlyle. So the seeds of jealousy had taken root. A new development. Mayhap this night would end in true marriage rather than counterfeit.
“Are you prepared, wife?” He ran his hot gaze over the proud form before him.
“I am, my lord.” Her calm voice held only a touch of nervousness. She had recovered well from the sight of his nudity. Given the circumstances, a truly remarkable woman.
“Then let us proceed.”
The male courtiers surged forward, grabbed him, and tossed him onto the petal-strewn sheets. The women also seized Alyse and pushed her toward the far side of the bed. They lifted her onto the mattress, pressed her back against the array of pillows, and carefully arranged her hair to drape around her breasts. At long last, they drew the sheet up over the couple.
When they had finished, Thomas had to bite back a laugh. His shaft had tented the sheet, and judging by Alyse’s wide, staring eyes, and a subtle movement toward the edge of the mattress, the sight thoroughly appalled her.
Father Andrew, one of the chapel priests, stepped forward, swinging a censer, and intoned, “Lord, bless this bed that the union of this man and this woman may be fruitful under Your blessed sight. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, Amen .”
As the priest stepped back, Lady Maurya and Lady Anne came forward to pull the curtains around the bed. The heavy material cocooned them in darkness with the heavy smell
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