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Authors: Claudia Dain
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the flow of blood." Aye, he had bumped against God's provision for her and was bruised. A lovely thought. Now, if only he would break and set her free.
He looked hard at her and then smiled, pressing her to him even more. He was a hard man and hot. For all he complained of the cold, he was so very hot.
"Aye, you speak true. My will is thwarted." He looked at her and pressed a kiss to her brow and then he whispered, "I want you. I want you, Elsbeth. I want the dark and solemn beauty of you to break over me like the rising dawn after a night of storms and wild winds. I want the softness of your skin to be my only contact with the earth. I want your breath to feed me. I want—"
"Stop!" she said, burying her face against his neck, shutting out the sight of him, but not the scent and not the feel. He surrounded her.
She could easily learn to hate him.
"Aye, I will, but only because we are at the hall. Let us put a happier face on this for your father."
"Nay! Say naught to him."
He looked into her eyes and smiled slowly. "I will say nothing. Let him think what he will think. Our time and our tidings are our own. I will not betray."
He took the steps in stride, the weight of her seeming no more than a cloak he carried. The lights and noise of her father's holding came to her first and then the smells. The way to the upper chambers lay across the hall. They would need to cross all of it to reach the room that was hers. She did not know how she would manage a passage of such distance with her dignity intact. Perhaps there was no way.
The sounds of the hall quieted as they entered. And then there came the laughter.
"Did she faint again?" her father called out. "She is too much at her prayers, that one."
"Nay, she did not faint," Hugh said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, the good humor he projected to the very rafters. "I am a husband newly made; am I to be faulted if I want the feel of my wife in my arms? Is Elsbeth not to be praised for giving in to my whims so readily?"
And so it ended before it had even begun. Her father was silenced, her dignity no more than bruised, and they were across the hall and climbing the stairs to her chamber.
"Take note, Elsbeth," Hugh said as he climbed the dark and twining passage. "If you would still a tongue, speak long and speak well, stilling all opposition by your very breath."
"It takes a mighty breath to still my father," she said, looking over his shoulder and back down the stair as the noise of the hall resumed its normal sound.
"As you say," he said, laughing. "But I have breath enough, have no fear."
"Of that, I do have no fear," she said, looking at his profile.
How that he could keep such good cheer about him? She never knew a man to be so winsome for so little cause. She had no cause to complain, except that it did make him more difficult to resist. Temptation's package was ever sweet.
He elbowed past the heavy door and then set her down in her chamber. All was dark within; the fire had not been lit, nor the tapers. The wind was rising without, dark clouds of purple and ash gray rolling across a darkening sky. The westering sun was hidden behind heavy clouds and thrashing treetops, moving relentlessly away, leaving them all in growing darkness.
The blood ran in ever growing force down her leg.
"Go now," she said.
"Go? Now?" he said, looking at her like a newborn calf.
"Aye," she said, pushing him from the chamber with her hands on his massive chest. Did women not bleed in Jerusalem when their courses ran? "Now!"
He backed up at her words, letting her force him from the chamber. "I will go, but I will remain without. I will not leave."
"Aye, I am much comforted," she said, shaking her head at his declaration. He could go back to far Jerusalem for all she cared at that moment. In fact, she would prefer it.
When the door was secured against him, she knelt by her trunk and pulled out her binding cloth and pad of lamb's wool. Lifting her skirts, she secured
He looked hard at her and then smiled, pressing her to him even more. He was a hard man and hot. For all he complained of the cold, he was so very hot.
"Aye, you speak true. My will is thwarted." He looked at her and pressed a kiss to her brow and then he whispered, "I want you. I want you, Elsbeth. I want the dark and solemn beauty of you to break over me like the rising dawn after a night of storms and wild winds. I want the softness of your skin to be my only contact with the earth. I want your breath to feed me. I want—"
"Stop!" she said, burying her face against his neck, shutting out the sight of him, but not the scent and not the feel. He surrounded her.
She could easily learn to hate him.
"Aye, I will, but only because we are at the hall. Let us put a happier face on this for your father."
"Nay! Say naught to him."
He looked into her eyes and smiled slowly. "I will say nothing. Let him think what he will think. Our time and our tidings are our own. I will not betray."
He took the steps in stride, the weight of her seeming no more than a cloak he carried. The lights and noise of her father's holding came to her first and then the smells. The way to the upper chambers lay across the hall. They would need to cross all of it to reach the room that was hers. She did not know how she would manage a passage of such distance with her dignity intact. Perhaps there was no way.
The sounds of the hall quieted as they entered. And then there came the laughter.
"Did she faint again?" her father called out. "She is too much at her prayers, that one."
"Nay, she did not faint," Hugh said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, the good humor he projected to the very rafters. "I am a husband newly made; am I to be faulted if I want the feel of my wife in my arms? Is Elsbeth not to be praised for giving in to my whims so readily?"
And so it ended before it had even begun. Her father was silenced, her dignity no more than bruised, and they were across the hall and climbing the stairs to her chamber.
"Take note, Elsbeth," Hugh said as he climbed the dark and twining passage. "If you would still a tongue, speak long and speak well, stilling all opposition by your very breath."
"It takes a mighty breath to still my father," she said, looking over his shoulder and back down the stair as the noise of the hall resumed its normal sound.
"As you say," he said, laughing. "But I have breath enough, have no fear."
"Of that, I do have no fear," she said, looking at his profile.
How that he could keep such good cheer about him? She never knew a man to be so winsome for so little cause. She had no cause to complain, except that it did make him more difficult to resist. Temptation's package was ever sweet.
He elbowed past the heavy door and then set her down in her chamber. All was dark within; the fire had not been lit, nor the tapers. The wind was rising without, dark clouds of purple and ash gray rolling across a darkening sky. The westering sun was hidden behind heavy clouds and thrashing treetops, moving relentlessly away, leaving them all in growing darkness.
The blood ran in ever growing force down her leg.
"Go now," she said.
"Go? Now?" he said, looking at her like a newborn calf.
"Aye," she said, pushing him from the chamber with her hands on his massive chest. Did women not bleed in Jerusalem when their courses ran? "Now!"
He backed up at her words, letting her force him from the chamber. "I will go, but I will remain without. I will not leave."
"Aye, I am much comforted," she said, shaking her head at his declaration. He could go back to far Jerusalem for all she cared at that moment. In fact, she would prefer it.
When the door was secured against him, she knelt by her trunk and pulled out her binding cloth and pad of lamb's wool. Lifting her skirts, she secured
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