‘What are you doing?’
Juliana lifted her head to find Lothar staring at her with a bewildered expression from the doorway.
‘A tapestry.’ She didn’t know whether to feel amused or offended by his reaction. ‘I’ve never made one before. What do you think?’
He took a cautious step into her chamber, as if afraid that her behaviour was some kind of trick. ‘What is it?’
‘Just a border so far. You can say it’s a pretty pattern, if you like.’
‘It’s a pretty pattern.’ He looked relieved. ‘Wouldn’t you rather be outside with a sword?’
‘It’s actually not as dull as I expected. Maud’s helping me.’ She arched her eyebrows. ‘I thought you didn’t like me fighting anyway?’
‘As long as it’s not with me.’ He stretched out in the chair opposite. ‘Your father was right, a woman ought to be able to defend herself.’
‘I have you for that now, don’t I?’ She gave him a teasing look.
‘You do. For now.’
She turned her gaze quickly back to the tapestry. Until the spring, he meant, when he had to go back to the Empress. Which also meant soon. The thought caused a pang in her chest, but at least he wouldn’t be gone for ever. A lot of men spent their springs and summers away from their wives and families at court or on campaign, only returning home in the winter. Their marriage wouldn’t be so unusual in that regard.
‘I’m sure the Empress will be able to spare you from time to time.’
She peered sideways at him, though the mention of Matilda seemed to make his expression cloud even further. Was he pining for her? she wondered. He didn’t seem to be. As far as she knew, he hadn’t sent or received any messages since his return from Devizes. He’d actually been in a surprisingly good mood for the past two months. During the days he’d ridden, trained his men and helped out with any tasks that needed doing around the castle. She’d found him carrying barrels to the taproom, grooming horses in the stables, even shaping horseshoes in the smithy. As promised, he’d left the day-to-day running of the castle to her, only offering help or advice when she asked for it—something she found herself doing more and more. It was surprisingly pleasant to have someone to share her ideas with, so much so that the evenings had become her favourite part of the day. They spent that time together, playing chess or backgammon, or just talking, always together, though also always amidst other people in the hall. They were rarely alone together. He’d slept in her father’s old chamber ever since their wedding night and she was always the first to retire to bed. As much as he seemed to enjoy her company, he seemed equally determined never to escort her upstairs or share a room with her. On one occasion, she’d tried staying up late to see if she could make him go to bed first, but he’d stayed in his chair until she’d been unable to stifle her yawns any longer. Then she’d listened at her door when she’d finally gone back to her room, hearing his footsteps go past just a few minutes later.
That was the one awkward part of their truce. Obviously the marriage debt scared him even more than it had her, though in that case she wondered why he’d told her about her rights in the first place. She’d absolutely no intention of throwing herself at any man who didn’t want her, but his avoidance only added insult to injury, as if he found her so unattractive that he preferred to stay in a crowded hall rather than run any risk of it. Of course, he was sitting in her chamber now, she thought bitterly, though that was probably only because it was the middle of the afternoon. He probably thought he was safe.
‘There’s something I need to tell you.’ His voice sounded alarmingly serious all of a sudden. ‘About Matilda.’
She stabbed her needle into her finger with a jolt. She’d dreaded the thought of this conversation, had been afraid it was coming, though she’d hoped to avoid it. He was about to tell her that he was in love with Matilda. She stifled an exclamation. Wasn’t it bad enough that she knew it already? She didn’t want to suffer the indignity of hearing her husband say it out loud.
‘Can’t it wait?’ She sucked her finger to staunch the flow of blood. ‘Maud’s gone for some more thread, but she’ll be back any moment.’
‘No.’ He reached behind him, pushing the door shut with an ominous thud. ‘It’s important. I should have told you before, but... I thought perhaps the circumstances might change.’
Circumstances? Her stomach contracted. What did he mean by circumstances? If he’d thought their marriage might affect his feelings for Matilda, then clearly he was about to tell her otherwise...
‘What I’m about to tell you goes no further than this chamber.’
She held back a snort. Of course it wouldn’t go any further! Did he really think she’d want to trumpet the fact of her husband being in love with another woman?
‘Very well.’ She lifted her chin up stiffly. If she really couldn’t stop him, then she could at least listen with dignity.
‘Matilda’s going back to Normandy.’
‘What?’
‘You remember I told you about her hopes for a treaty?’ He leaned forward in his chair. ‘Well, she’s handing the fight over to her son. Henry FitzEmpress will take her place when she leaves.’
‘But... She’s leaving?’ She felt utterly astounded. That Matilda, the woman who’d dubbed herself Lady of the English, might abandon the country she’d fought over for so long was well-nigh unthinkable...
‘It won’t be easy for her.’ He seemed to be watching her intently.
‘No, I suppose not.’
‘For me either, but she needs me now more than ever. I don’t have a choice, Juliana.’
She frowned, trying to comprehend what he was telling her. She’d been too shocked by his first statement to pay much attention to the rest, but now he seemed to be trying to defend himself, to forestall some kind of argument.
‘What don’t you have a choice about?’
‘About going back to Normandy with her.’
‘Normandy?’ She was on her feet, her needle clattering to the floor, before she even knew she intended to stand up.
‘Yes.’ He stood up, too. ‘She wants me to go with her.’
‘Since when?’
A guilty expression crossed his face. ‘Since she told me in Devizes.’
‘That was two months ago!’
‘As I said, I thought the circumstances might change. I didn’t know if she’d go through with it.’
‘And now you are?’
‘If she’d changed her mind, I would have received word by now.’
She gripped the back of her chair, feeling as if the room were spinning suddenly. ‘So when are you leaving?’
‘She told me to return to Devizes when the weather started to clear. It’s clearing now. I ought to leave in the morning.’
‘Tomorrow morning? And you’re only telling me now?’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘Of course! I don’t know why I expected any different. She’s your Empress, I’m just your wife. I hope the two of you will be very happy together!’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ He looked shocked.
‘What do you think it means?’
‘Juliana, I’m only following orders.’
‘Then who am I to stand in the way?’ She started forward angrily, suddenly desperate to get away from him. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than talk about your Empress.’
‘Wait.’ He took a step to one side, blocking the way so that she almost walked into him. ‘There’s something else.’
She stopped a hair’s breadth from his chest. She wanted to pound on it with her fists. What else could there be? She felt enough of a fool already. If she didn’t get out of there soon then she’d either throw something at him or start crying and she wasn’t sure which was worse. How could he do this—abandon her just when she was starting to get used to him? She hadn’t wanted a husband, but he’d made her get used to him! More than that, she’d enjoyed spending time with him. Their evenings together had meant something to her. Hadn’t they meant anything to him?
‘What?’ She met his gaze furiously, determined not to show any of the pain she was feeling.
‘The Empress wants to see you, too, before she leaves.’
‘Why?’
He paused briefly. ‘She wants to know if you can be trusted after what happened with your father.’
‘I thought you said she understood about that?’
‘She did, but she still wants to know she’s leaving Haword in the hands of someone she can trust.’
‘She isn’t!’ Anger flared again. How dare he! Now of all times, how dare he demand her allegiance to the woman he was running away with? ‘I told you I gave Stephen my oath.’
‘That was before we were married.’
‘So naturally you expect me to abandon my loyalties for yours? Why should I be loyal to her?’
‘Because I vouched for you!’
She stiffened in shock. ‘Why?’
‘Because I know how much Haword means to you. I didn’t, don’t, want you to lose your home.’
She swallowed, trying to make sense of a confusing tumult of emotions. Gratitude, resentment, jealousy... She didn’t understand any of it. Why had he taken such a risk? If he’d vouched for her, then he was responsible for her actions, even in Normandy. It bound them even closer together—just when he leaving!
‘Why did you do that? You knew I gave my oath to Stephen.’
A shadow fell over his face. ‘Would you really surrender Haword to him if he came back?’
‘Yes, if you’re not here.’
‘Even after I vouched for you?’
‘You shouldn’t have! You had no right to say anything on my behalf.’
‘I’m your husband.’
‘My husband who’s leaving!’
He ran a hand over his face. ‘You know it doesn’t work that way, Juliana. You can use my name to hold the castle. You don’t have to break your oath.’
‘Then you’re just like every other man, after all! You think I should just hide behind you as if I don’t have a mind of my own.’ She shoved both of her hands hard against his chest. ‘Well, maybe I want to support Stephen. Maybe I like Stephen!’
He caught her wrists as she raised them again. ‘Meaning what?’
‘He was very courteous to me. More than some people I could mention.’
‘He’s a traitor who stole the crown! Or do you value courtesy more than loyalty?’
‘Hypocrite!’ She wrenched her wrists away. ‘How can you talk about loyalty? You’ve been in love with another woman since we met!’
‘What?’
‘With Matilda.’ She jutted her chin out, not caring how jealous she sounded now. Since they were being honest with each other, she might as well be completely honest. ‘Or are you going to deny that you’re in love with her?’
‘Yes!’ He staggered backwards, looking thunderstruck. ‘Of course I’m not in love with her. What on earth made you think such a thing?’
‘Because you said she was beautiful and that she saved you, and that you’d give your life to save her if necessary. Why else would you say all those things?’
‘Because she’s my Empress! Not because I love her.’
‘But...’ The look of genuine bewilderment on his face made her conviction waver, replaced by a flicker of hope. ‘You mean you’re not in love with her?’
‘I don’t love!’
They stared at each other in silence for a long moment before he swore softly. ‘Hell’s teeth. I don’t love anyone, Juliana. I don’t love, I don’t care and I don’t feel. I can’t. It’s not who I am.’
She sucked in a breath. ‘Not at all?’
‘No.’ His voice sounded convincing enough. ‘I told you, I protect people. That’s what I do.’
She felt her brief sense of elation drain away. So he wasn’t in love with Matilda. That fact should have made her happy, but his explanation only made her feel worse. She still came second, even to a woman he wasn’t in love with, and now it seemed that there was no hope of him ever caring for her either—just when she’d realised with terrible, acute certainty that she wanted him to. Because she cared for him.
‘You promised my father you’d protect me.’ She tried to keep her expression calm. ‘Or don’t I matter next to Matilda?’
‘Of course you do. I’ll always come if you summon me.’
‘From Normandy?’
‘Yes. I’m leaving my men here to protect you, too.’
‘So you’re abandoning all of us?’
His expression looked pained. ‘I’m leaving you in command of Haword. Isn’t that what you always wanted, your command, your castle, without a husband to interfere?’
She whirled away from him at the words, storming towards the far corner of the room. If she couldn’t get to the door, then she could at least put as much distance between them as possible!
That was what she’d always wanted, but he’d no right to use her own words against her.
‘Isn’t that what you always wanted, Juliana?’ His footsteps pursued her.
‘Yes!’ She spun round as he grabbed her arm. ‘But that doesn’t mean I still do!’
His jaw tightened. ‘Juliana, you’ve been trying to get rid of me ever since I arrived.’
‘That’s not true!’ She tried to pull her arm away, but he held tight this time. ‘I only wanted to get rid of you at first. These past few weeks...’ She bit her lip.
‘What?’ He tugged her against him when she didn’t answer. ‘These past few weeks what?’
‘I don’t know! They’ve just been different!’
His chest heaved as if he were trying to control some emotion. ‘I know, but I have to do my duty. I have to go with the Empress. She needs me.’
She inhaled sharply, his close proximity making her breath come in short bursts. ‘What about your duty to me? What about the marriage debt? How do you intend to fulfil that part of your promise from Normandy?’
‘You said you didn’t want me to.’
‘It’s not about what I want!’ She tossed her head, feeling as if she’d just argued herself into a corner. Was that what she wanted? Even if it was, she didn’t want him to think that she did. ‘It’s the principle. How am I supposed to have an heir? How do I have a child with a man in a different country? Who will inherit Haword?’
‘You want me to get you with child?’ The pupils of his eyes widened suddenly.
‘I...’ That wasn’t what she’d meant, not exactly, but the deep rumble of his voice was sending a potent thrill racing all through her body from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes and she didn’t know what to say. What she’d meant was that she wanted him to kiss her once more before he left, to hold her, to remind her of how it felt to be touched, the way he’d touched her the first day they’d met. What she’d meant was that it wasn’t fair, that nothing, in the whole tangled mess of their separate allegiances, was fair. Their marriage might have been an arrangement to protect her, something they’d both agreed to for the sake of her father, but she didn’t want it to be just that any more. She wanted something else, something more...something that he’d said was impossible.
‘Juliana.’ He let go of her arm, trailing his fingers up her back and around her shoulder-blades. ‘Is that what you want?’
Instinctively, she tipped her head back, letting his lips find her throat whilst her hands drifted up to his chest. She felt a soft tug, followed by a slackening sensation, as if he were pulling on something, though it took her a moment to realise it was the laces of her gown.
‘Juliana?’ He repeated her name in a hoarse whisper, his lips skimming the hollow space above her collarbone. ‘Is it? You need to tell me.’
‘Yes.’ She breathed the word, answering a different question to the one that he’d asked her. The last thing she wanted was to be left carrying the child of a man who was about to leave her, but she could let him believe that, couldn’t she? Better for him to think it was all she wanted. It wasn’t as if the reason really mattered. He was her husband and he wasn’t in love with another woman. No one else would get hurt and if he wasn’t capable of feeling then he wouldn’t care either way. She was allowed to ask him to pay the marriage debt. There was nothing wrong in it...even if, somehow, it didn’t feel quite right either.
‘No.’ She pushed her hands against his chest abruptly.
‘What is it?’ He lifted his head at once.
‘Not like this, it’s wrong.’
‘Does it feel wrong?’ His eyes were smoky with what looked like, what surely had to be, desire.
She shook her head. ‘We still can’t. Not because of a debt.’
‘Forget the debt, Juliana.’
He growled the words as his lips found hers again, his tongue plundering her mouth with a hunger that made her feel dizzy. This kiss was different to the others, fierce and demanding, as if he were trying to stifle any protest. She felt a giddy rush of elation, though whether from the feeling of his lips or the sensation of breathlessness she hardly knew. This definitely didn’t feel like the calling in of a debt. It felt like something far more powerful, as if he wanted her as much as she wanted him. More even, judging by the way he was scarcely letting her up for air.
She gasped as the fabric of her gown fell over her shoulders and pooled loosely around her waist. His hands pushed it down and she found herself wriggling to help him, writhing her hips until it slid the rest of the way to the floor. Then he reached down, so swiftly that she barely had time to wonder what he was doing, tearing her stockings away before seizing the hem of her under-shift and pulling it over her head.
She held her breath as cold air met her skin. She was standing completely naked in front of a man who was looking at her in a way she’d never imagined possible, one that made her feel exposed and strangely powerful at the same time. There was no condemnation or criticism in his eyes, only desire. For her. All her embarrassment evaporated under the heat of his gaze, replaced by her own sense of need. Tentatively, she reached out and unbuckled his belt, letting it fall to the floor before grasping the ends of his tunic, mimicking his earlier actions as she tugged the fabric over his head. Then they both moved together at the same time, hands meeting skin as he dipped down and lifted her up into his arms.
‘Wrap your legs around me.’
She did as he said, twining her legs around his waist as he pulled his head back to look at her.
‘Are you certain about this?’
She nodded, meeting his gaze with a look of utter certainty. His eyes were smouldering more fiercely than she’d ever seen them, yet there was tenderness there, too. If she wanted, she could still put a stop to this, but she didn’t want to. She knew that with every part of her being. Even if it were just going to be this once, she wanted this, whatever this was, to happen.
He carried her across the room, lips seeking hers again as he lowered her gently down on to the bed, then pulled back as if he intended to move to one side. She didn’t let him, tightening her legs around his waist to draw him down on top of her instead. He resisted for a moment, before his eyes seemed to spark suddenly, and then she lost all power of description. She was only aware of the weight of his body on hers and the intoxicating feel of his mouth on her skin, trailing a pattern over her throat and breasts, causing a hunger that seemed to eclipse every other thought or sensation.
‘You’re beautiful, Juliana.’
She heard the words through a haze, intent upon running her hands over the strong muscles of his back. His hands were busy exploring her, too, tracing the curve of her waist and hips as if he were trying to memorise every inch of her body. Was he? The thought made her go cold for a moment, reminding her that he was leaving.
‘Juliana?’ He lifted his head, as if sensing the change, and she forced a smile.
‘Show me what to do,’ she stretched up to whisper in his ear and felt a shudder run through his body.
‘It might hurt at first.’ He grasped one of her hands and pressed his lips against her fingertips.
‘I know. Alys and Maud told me.’
He shifted backwards and she sat up, thinking she must have said the wrong thing.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To remove my hose.’ He looked faintly amused. ‘Didn’t they tell you I needed to remove them?’
‘Oh... Yes.’
She lay down again and rolled on to her side, trying to hide her confusion. Alys and Maud’s description hadn’t exactly made matters clear, but she didn’t want him to guess just how little she knew. Then the bed dipped again and she felt a warm hand on her ankle, trailing its way slowly up her leg, past her knee, over her hip and the curve of her bottom, and she felt her fears start to dissipate.
‘Tell me if I hurt you.’ His voice sounded strained. ‘I’ll stop.’
She nodded and then his hands were back around her waist, rolling her over as he stretched his body on top of hers. She twisted her arms around his neck, pulling his face downwards, kissing him with all the hunger she knew she had only one day to satiate as he nudged her legs gently apart. This was it, the thing that Alys and Maud had told her about, and yet it didn’t feel painful. It felt...
She cried out as he pushed deep inside her, every muscle in her body clenching at once. A mistake. This had definitely been a mistake! She wanted to tell him so, but his lips were still moving gently, his body hovering motionless above hers in a way that was less painful already. She let out a breath of relief. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all. The tightness actually seemed to be easing, so much that she even wanted to move herself. She tried it and felt a rush of pleasure spread out from between her legs to her stomach, like the tremulous, fluttering sensation she’d felt before, only stronger. Curious, she tested it again and the feeling intensified.
‘Juliana.’ Lothar’s voice sounded hoarse.
‘Am I doing it wrong?’ She froze instantly.
‘No. Just tell me when.’
‘When what?’
‘When I can move.’
She hesitated. Would that hurt? She tried moving her own body again, rolling her hips in a slow circling motion, and this time he groaned aloud.
‘You can move.’
She said the words tentatively—was utterly unprepared for his reaction. He pushed so deeply into her that she cried out again, though this time the feeling was less pain than pleasure. When he moved back and pushed again, she felt as though she were in the grip of some fever, as if all the blood in her body had rushed to her stomach in a searing hot torrent. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. New, surprising and so unimaginably intense that she didn’t want any of it to stop. Instinctively, she followed his rhythm, advancing and retreating beneath him until he gripped her arms suddenly, pushing them both down into the mattress.
‘Wait.’
His voice was a growl, but she didn’t heed him. The feeling in her stomach was building to something, she could sense it. If she stopped now, then it would go away and she didn’t want it to. She wanted to feel it, whatever it was, right now. If he were leaving, then this might be the only chance she ever had to find out.
‘Juliana!’
The way he cried her name pushed her over the brink. She heard herself cry out, too, feeling as though she’d left the bed somehow, as if she were being tossed and turned in the river beneath her window. Her whole body was trembling, convulsing with some primal reaction that made her mind feel numb. She was vaguely aware of his body shaking, too, though he pulled away from her first, leaving her with a strangely empty feeling as he rolled on to his back. She hadn’t wanted him to go, but perhaps that was how it worked.
Then she forgot everything else, surrendering herself to the vibrating sensations still rippling through her body. Perhaps she’d ask him about that later, about why he’d moved away... It was the last thing she thought before she fell asleep.
* * *
Lothar stared at the wooden rafters above his head. The sky outside the window was darkening fast and the candle beside the bed was burning so low that if he didn’t get up and replace it soon, it would go out. He still didn’t move. He couldn’t. His wife was sleeping peacefully against his shoulder and he didn’t want to disturb her—wanted to savour the feeling of her in his arms for a while longer.
He shouldn’t have slept with her. No matter how much he’d wanted to, he should never have given in to the temptation. He was leaving. He’d spent the last two months reminding himself of that fact over and over again, warning himself to keep away from her, not that he’d been able to. Instead, he’d convinced himself that he was strong enough to resist, even though every evening they’d spent together had felt like a slow torture, as if he were taunting himself with what he could never have. It hadn’t helped that she’d seemed to grow more and more desirable each day, her skin taking on a healthy glow as her eyes gradually lost their dark shadows. Even the curves of her body had started to fill out again—he’d spent enough time looking to notice—so that he’d had to use all the self-control he possessed to stay in his chair in the hall every night, allowing her enough time to reach her chamber before going to his own room upstairs. If he could he would have slept in the hall, but he hadn’t wanted to start any rumours.
Now it seemed he’d succeeded in restoring her health, but failed in his other, more important resolve. On the very last day, he’d failed, unable to resist when she’d mentioned the marriage debt. Then he’d been unable to fight his desire any longer, telling himself it was something he had no choice over, though deep down he knew he’d taken her because he’d wanted to, because he wanted her more than any woman he’d ever met. She’d said she wanted a child, but he’d failed her even in that, pulling away at the last moment. The thought of leaving her had been bad enough, but the idea of leaving her with a child while he left for another country had been more than he could bear.
He tightened his arm around her instinctively, burying his face in the deep red mass of her hair. It still smelt of honeysuckle. There was a thin sheen of sweat on her skin and he had to wrestle the urge to stroke it away. If only... He tensed, gripped with an emotion he hadn’t felt for as long as he could remember, so powerful and all-engulfing that he felt as if his chest were being squeezed in a vice.
No!
He leapt out of the bed, flinging her away so forcefully that she woke up at once. It couldn’t be that. He wasn’t capable of that. He had to get out of there.
‘Lothar?’ She sounded alarmed. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing,’ he answered gruffly, pulling his clothes on without turning around. ‘I have things to prepare. So do you.’ He risked a quick look over his shoulder and then wished he hadn’t. Confusion and hurt were writ plain on her face. ‘We’ll be leaving early.’
She didn’t say anything, but he could feel her eyes on his back, watching as he raced for the door. He had to get out. The room seemed to be closing in around him and he needed some air—air and space to clear his head and breathe, to let his heartbeat return to something resembling a normal pace.
If only...
He flung the door shut behind him and rested his head against the wood. There was no if only... He wasn’t capable of if only. For a terrifying moment, it had felt as though he might be, as if what he’d thought was a stone in his chest was actually just a hard shell cracking open, splintering apart to reveal a real beating heart underneath. But that couldn’t be true. It wasn’t possible—and if it was then he didn’t want to know what was inside.