When she found her release, she called out his name in a breathless whisper. Unable to contain himself any longer, he found his own and rode the wave of pleasure with her.
For the longest while, he lay there, his forehead pressed gently against hers, as he fought to catch his breath; enjoying that intimate moment for a little longer than perhaps was necessary. He simply didn’t want it to end.
Once he heard her breathing return to normal, he rolled over onto his back, his arms at his sides, staring at the ceiling. What he would not give to just lie here until dawn, with Aeschene wrapped in his arms.
When that thought entered his mind, he dismissed it at once. It was far too dangerous, for more reasons that one.
“May I rest my head upon yer shoulder?” Aeschene asked.
Spent, exhausted, and far too content, he knew that should he accept her request, he’d be asleep in a matter of moments. God only knew what kind of damage he might do to her if he stayed. Instead, he rolled to his side and pulled her in, his arms wrapped around her waist.
“Did I do well?” she asked sleepily.
He wanted to chuckle, but dare not, lest he hurt her tender feelings. “Aye.” He didn’t have much energy left to say anything else. Had she done any better, he might have died from a heart seizure.
The fire crackled softly as a strong breeze billowed against the furs. Thunder rolled in the far distance, nothing more than a low, soft rumble. After a few long moments, Aeschene relaxed, her breaths deep and steady.
She was fast asleep.
There was something peaceful about this moment, with the fire, the breeze, the thunder, and his wife sleeping contentedly next to him.
And it scared the bloody hell out of him.
Quietly, he slipped from the bed, dressed in the dark, and left the room.
Chapter Eleven
The following morning, Aeschene awoke to the sound of soft crackling embers in the hearth. With a smile, she stretched and yawned, feeling for all the world a completely different person. For the first time in a very long while, she felt happy.
Last night had been a most amazing experience. Gone now, was her innocence and ignorance, at least as it pertained to the act of joining. For the first time in a good long while, she did not feel inadequate or less.
With a certainty, she knew last night was just a taste of what could be. A glimpse of what she could have with her husband. Thinking back to all the things they’d done the night before left her feeling rather mischievous. Richard had insisted on her complete honesty when it came to their loving. Hoping his demand for honesty would also include telling him she wanted to join with him again, she rolled over.
But his side of the bed was empty. Her hand was met with cold sheets. “Richard?” she said as she sat up to look about the room. Instinct and silence told her she was alone.
’Twas a rather unnerving sensation.
Marisse had been her constant companion and friend for the past two years. Even when Aeschene woke before her, there was something comforting in knowing she was not completely alone. If she tripped or stumbled, at least she could wake Marisse and ask for her help.
But no one was there.
Taking in a deep breath, she spoke to the empty void and shadows. “He has left ye to sleep, which was quite kind of him.” Still, it stung slightly that she did not get to wake up in his arms. Mayhap, just mayhap he had kissed her before leaving.
“Och! Ye have probably slept half the day away, ye lay about,” she whispered.
At some point in the day, she would have Marisse help her to memorize the layout of Richard’s chamber. “Nay,” she said. “This be yer room, his and yers, now.” The thought made her smile.
Our chamber, she mused.
A week ago, if anyone would have told her she would be married, she would have laughed herself silly. But here she was, married to a great clan chief who also happened to be a most kind and generous lover. A sense of glee bubbled up from her stomach, escaping in the form of a giggle.
Deciding she had laid abed long enough, she tossed away the fur and carefully slid from the bed. She felt a warm blush come to her face when the cool air hit her naked skin. “Me night dress,” she murmured. Richard had tossed it to the floor the night before.
Keeping one hand on the bed, she felt around the floor for the missing garment. But ’twas nowhere to be found. So on her hands and knees, she searched for it, or her robe, she didn’t care at this point. Her knees scraped along the cold, wood floor as she swiped her hands back and forth across it. Soon, her bladder began to complain.
Her search was fruitless. The only things she found was dust and one lonely woolen. Bringing it close to her eyes, she could see ’twas her husband’s.
Wiping the dust from her hands, she pushed herself to her feet. Aye, she was going to have to have a long talk with her husband about tossing her garments hither and yon.
Going back to the bed, she retrieved the fur and wrapped herself in it. She would simply have to make her way across the hall and wake Marisse.
Walking cautiously, sliding her feet slowly so as not to bump into anything she couldn’t see, she felt for the door. ’Twas then she caught a blurry glimpse of clothing hanging on a peg. Keeping a tight hold on the fur, she poked one hand out to feel the fabric. If anything, she thought to use one of Richard’s tunics just long enough to get to Marisse’s room. She let out a sigh of relief when she realized ’twas her robe she was feeling. Under it, her night dress. Apparently, her husband had hung them up for her before he left. While ’twas a kind gesture, they would still need to discuss the matter of leaving her alone.
As quickly as she could, she pulled on her night dress and shoved her hands into her robe. Retuning the fur to the bed, she giggled at her own folly. “you may be a woman now,” she said. “But ye are still as blind as always.”
The short trek across the semi-dark hall and to Marisse’s chamber was met with no difficulties. The room was much brighter than the one she’d just left, but far colder. The fire in the hearth had to have burned hours ago. “Marisse,” she called out as she made her way to the bed.
The chamber was just as empty as the bed.
“Good lord!” she exclaimed. “How long did I sleep?”
Knowing her friend as she did, it had to be close to the noonin’ hour, for Marisse was not keen about early mornings.
“Bloody hell!” she whispered. “I have missed my meeting with Hattie!”
As quickly as she was able, she tended to her morning ablutions, washed her hands, face, and teeth, and dressed. She chose her simple green wool, pulled on warm woolens and her boots.
She’d never been good at braiding or styling her own hair. Even when she had possessed the gift of perfect vision. Leaving it down, she combed the tangles and knots until she felt it was as smooth and presentable as she could manage.
Now she was faced with the most difficult part; getting below stairs without breaking her own neck.
Black Richard had slept on a pallet in his private study. He woke, with a crick in his neck and his sword arm tingling from sleeping on it. The room, cold and damp, was a stark contrast to the warm bed and inviting woman he’d left the night before.
He had waited until she had fallen asleep before slipping away. There were only two reasons why he had stolen away like a thief in the predawn morn; his nightmares and the ease in which he found joining with her.