Page 57 of Tamed for Her Pleasure

The doctor came with us, checking on me twice a day at the start.

It did not escape my notice that during the worst of it, and when I struggled to leave the bed, my woman was fertile. It drove me near insensible not being able to have her how I needed—how she needed, too.

The dizzying scent all up in my nose, the knowledge that she was ripe for breeding while I, her mate, was incapable of doing so, was the bitterest of blows.

The doctor, satisfied with my recovery, has returned to the city.

Time has healed me.

It has also allowed Penelope and I to know more about one another, and for me to see new wonders in this woman I have chosen as a life mate.

I fell in love with a wayward brat, but I fall deeper in love with a woman who has been so caring and attentive to me in my moment of vulnerability and who seems to have settled with ease into the role of lady of this house.

She’s always laughing about some nonsense or other and is never downtrodden by life or events. One might presume her life has been easy, but her challenges are merely different from the ones of ordinary people.

Her great-aunt disdained me at first. She’s a nosy old bat, but I can see a deep, loving friendship between her and Penelope. And she has filled the role missing in a mother and a grandmother who are both at the Goddess’s side.

We have a small garrison here. Dick, Wendle and Poach joined it: Poach, accompanied by his new wife, Evie, who has found a place for herself as a maid.

The three soldiers integrated well with the garrison men already here and brought their experience. We will, of course, travel often to the city given my mate is a princess and still has duties as such.

I pause to wipe the sweat from my brow and stand up and stretch, enjoying the slight ache in my muscles—enjoying a reason to be outside and doing something rather than sitting on my ass.

She is going to become fertile again soon. I can sense it.

Both her lustiness and the knowledge that I will be well enough to do something about it this time is front and center in my mind.

She wants my knot. I am yet to give it to her. But I am thinking that it will be soon.

Penelope

I have had a busy morning. Alfred left early, saying that he was going to chop some wood. I want to roll my eyes at my mate, who is both a knight and a lord, choosing to chop wood. Perhaps a younger version of me would. This version appreciates that it is who he is and that he enjoys these simple tasks, and, further, it endears him to everyone on the estate.

They whisper about him, saying he is different from other lords. He has a strange, gruff charm that everybody takes to. So, although many of the servants and workers here found his ways curious initially, they quickly came to accept him.

He has changed me, too; of that there is no doubt.

When I thought I might lose him, I understood how very much I loved him and how quickly that had come about. I understand that Alfred is special and that I am blessed that he picked me—forever grateful that he decided I was a brat who needed taming and set about doing exactly that.

“The bed is full to overflowing, my lady,” Evie says with an approving grin.

Wedded to Poach, she joined the household staff when her husband joined the estate garrison. She has a few different duties and is a sweet lass, always ready with a smile.

I plant my hands on my hips and admire the bed. While Alfred has been busy chopping wood, Wendle has been lugging an entire cartload of rustic bedding materials to our room.

All the old bedding has been removed. There is not a scrap of silk or flounce on the bed at all now.

“It looks properly barbarian,” Evie adds in a low whisper, as though the mere mention of it is scandalous. “Happen he will like it. Him being a barbarian and all.”

“Yes,” I agree. “I believe he will.”

Our sturdy four-poster bed is deeply covered in thick, luxurious furs, pelts, and rustic blankets sourced in secret from his former clan. His brother, now the king, was congenial to a trade. They took a dozen sacks of our best-quality milled wheat, hams, cheese, and no small amount of barreled beer.

I cannot wait for Alfred to discover what I have done, although I admit I am also a little nervous about it, too.

Maybe he likes the soft silks. I know he likes me in my gowns.

“So are you going to put the dress on, too, afore he comes back, my lady?”

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