Page 45 of Suddenly a Bride
When he finally sat back heavily on the bench, Gwyneth stood above him, resting her hands on his shoulders. He stilled when she began gently rubbing the muscles in his neck.
“You are very stiff and tense,” she said, wearing a delicate frown of concentration.
She didn’t know how stiff. Edmund couldn’t stop staring at her lovely face and then lower to a bodice that was more revealing than the one she’d worn on their rent-collecting journey. It gaped away from her breasts until only their peaks escaped his gaze. He stood there stupidly staring down her gown, wishing he could touch, wishing even more that he could taste.
Suddenly she leaned toward him, and he was too stunned to avoid the kiss she pressed to his cheek.
With a waft of subtle perfume, she left him, walking back toward the table of food, her hips swaying in an ancient, alluring rhythm. She looked over her shoulder, saw that he was still watching, laughed, and gave a little wave.
He knew he should go back to work immediately, should pretend that he wasn’t hungry—anything to escape this assault on his senses and on his resolve.
But Gwyneth was too quick for him. She came back with a full plate, like a courtier bearing gifts to her king.
“You’ll need to spread your knees,” she said softly.
With his mind no longer functioning properly, he could think of no reason not to do as she wished. To his amazement, she perched on his left knee and handed him the plate. From a pouch at her waist, she removed a spoon, an eating knife, and a napkin.
When she went to spread the napkin over his lap, he said hoarsely, “I can manage that.”
She smiled up into his face. “Of course you can. Forgive me.”
Knowing he had to stop looking at her and start eating, he turned to his right and began to put food into his mouth. He wasn’t sure about what he was eating. It all tasted rather bland and identical, since his senses were consumed by the feel of Gwyneth’s backside pressed into his thigh. Her gaze was a caress that left scorching heat in its wake. He might have finally melted under her innocent seduction if he hadn’t caught sight of Geoff turning a corner of the castle and coming to a halt. His friend seemed confused at first until he looked at Edmund and Gwyneth. Then his smile turned into a broad grin, as if Edmund had openly confessed that he trusted in her innocence and was now going to follow her to bed.
“Gwyneth, stand up,” Edmund said in a low voice, as Geoff began to walk toward them.
“But why? Surely Geoffrey understands that we’re married.”
Edmund shifted his knee as if he was going to spill her into the dirt. She rose hastily and gave him a searching glance.
“What a cozy display,” Geoff said, giving a dramatic court bow to Gwyneth, one leg bent, the other straight. “Is there plenty for another hungry mouth?”
Without thinking, Edmund curtly said, “Plenty of what?”
Geoff only laughed and regarded him a little too intently.
Gwyneth smiled. “If you see nothing to your liking at the table, Geoffrey, just tell me, and I’ll search out more in the kitchen.”
“I’ll be content with whatever morsels are here, my lady. Perhaps you could point out a good selection.”
When she glanced uncertainly at Edmund, he found himself suddenly reluctant to let her go. How ridiculous.
“I’m going back to work,” he said, handing his plate to Gwyneth, who took it with perhaps a touch of disappointment showing in her eyes. “See to Geoff.”
For the next hour Edmund caught glimpses of Gwyneth walking among his workers. They smiled when she left them with a few simple words of kindness, and seemed to work even harder. More and more this castle seemed like a home, and it was all because of her. It made him feel wary, as though he should be looking over his shoulder.
~oOo~
That night, as Gwyneth walked down the corridor toward her bedchamber, Lucy opened her own door just as she passed. The draft almost blew out Gwyneth’s candle, and she shielded it as she smiled at her friend.
“Milady, I’m so sorry I startled ye.”
“Think nothing of it, Lucy. Could you not sleep?”
The girl shook her head, then motioned her to enter. By the light of the fire and the few scattered candles, Gwyneth could see that the room was much cozier than it had been the last time she was there. The rushes on the floor had been changed, and the bed was hung with curtains. An old chair and small table were positioned near the hearth. Lucy guided her to the chair, and Gwyneth took a seat as Lucy pulled up a stool.
“Milady, I have a question for ye, and I hope ye don’t think me forward.”
“Go ahead, Lucy, and please, can’t you go back to calling me Gwyneth?”
