She felt his hand stroking down her back, stroking over her hips. She pressed herself closer against him.
“You are filled with my seed.”
There was such satisfaction in his voice that she bit him, then licked him. “Aye,” she said against his warm flesh, “and I brought you into me and held you deep and close and filled you with myself.”
He shuddered, then moaned. He said nothing more. She listened as his breathing slowed and evened into sleep. –
Thank God for Dame Agnes and Alice.
Trist stretched out on Severin’s chest, his paws over Hastings’s hand.
How would one possibly have the strength to do this five times in the space of one day?
Something was lightly scratching her stomach. It felt good. She sighed, stretched just a bit, then remembered the night before and opened her eyes.
She lifted the covers to see Trist curled next to her, his claws going up and down her belly. She petted him. “Where is your master?”
Trist opened his eyes, looked at her for a very long time, then stretched and slithered out from beneath the covers. He sniffed the air.
Hastings sniffed the air too.
The air smelled of them. Of sex. She had smelled that before, but she hadn’t known, hadn’t really thought about it. She’d been a dunce. She’d been a blockhead.
She pushed back the covers and rose. She was sticky. His seed, she thought, as she bathed herself in the pewter basin of cool water.
Why had he left her? Why had he not awakened her so she could see to his morning meal? Perhaps this was the way men were supposed to behave after being with their wives for the night.
She saw the blue tunic she had made for him, laid out neatly on the en” °f the bed. There was a huge rent beneath the right arm. She remernbered now that he’d ripped the tunic when he’d pulled it over his head
the previous evening. She didn’t mind at all that it was ripped. She believed she could add some more material to make it large enough for him Aye, she could do that.
She was humming when she came into the great hall a short time later There was Severin, seated between Gwent and Beamis, the two men lis! tening intently to what he was saying. It was still very early. She felt won-
derful.
She could not believe what had happened.
At that moment, Severin looked up and saw her. His face went very ‘ still. Then, slowly, he smiled. He raised his hand and called out, “Come
here, Hastings. This almond bun is difficult to eat. I wish you to feed it to me.”
She laughed and skipped toward him. She was rilled with energy, filled with a lightness she hadn’t felt in a very long time. She realized suddenly that she was happy.
He pulled her down onto his lap. “Now, this fool Gwent here has been instructing me on how to eat the bun but he does not do it well. My brain , is weak from all your demands last night. Feed me, Hastings.”
She pulled off part of the bun and eased it into his mouth. She was staring at his mouth as he chewed. She was staring at his throat as he swallowed.
“Wbw^ kiss me.”
“In front of Beamis and Gwent? In front of everyone? Everyone is watching us.”
“Aye, I know it. Kiss me.”
She did, a shy kiss, her lips closed, but he didn’t care. It was a symbol, nay, more than a symbol, it was a vow, a promise, and all saw it. She was now his wife. There would be no more strife. She had bent to him. He let her feed him the rest of the bun. Then he lifted her off his lap, saying as he did so, “If you remain there, I will have to send my hand up your leg and pleasure you and that would shock our people for they bej^ lieve you to be modest and bashful.” He patted her buttocks.
“Now, I understand from Gwent that Eloise has returned to
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