Lady fit for a Lord Page 10

  She'd never thought of coming to a place so big, and so bustling with life.

  Although she'd come a long way towards accepting that she must be a lady the manor, and act accordingly, she had never quite allowed herself to consider what it meant.

  If she had, Juliana admitted to herself, she would have been terrified.

  Just as well she'd learned to be comfortable with this splendid husband of hers. Because as she walked next to him now, up the stairs and into a magnificent open hall, where servants waited in ranks to greet him, she drew all her strength and confidence from him.

  "Lady Juliana." A well-dressed man about Father's age came forward to greet her by name. "It is a great joy to welcome you here under such happy circumstances. I trust your family are well?"

  "My steward," Emmanuel murmured in Juliana's ear.

  She beamed then, delighted at once with a new-found friend. "Thank you. Yes, indeed they are." All at once the room seemed smaller, less imposing. She could feel at home here, given time.

  The steward bowed, and gestured towards a door at the far end of the hall. "This way, madam. We have everything ready for you."

  Juliana hesitated. Emmanuel gave her the faintest hint of a nudge, and led her through the hall and into a pleasant chamber. A cushioned seat by the window gave a view over the outbuildings and a distant cloud of forest beyond the fields outside the walls. On a low table placed nearby stood a bowl and pitcher, with a neatly folded towel and some brushes to one side.

  Of course. Juliana grimaced to think how stained she must be from the travel. She'd been too busy enjoying Emmanuel's company to think of that before.

  Emmanuel gently disengaged her arm from this, and shut the door to the hall. "It would be more proper for us to be attended," he said with a smile. "And if you wish, I'll call the servants. But if you'll permit?" He picked up a brush and began to carefully sweep down her dress.

  Juliana stood still and let him, smiling at little at being attended by a lord. Then he handed her the brush, and she went over his own attire, frowning over each small imperfection and finishing with a proprietarial nod.

  "Acceptable?" Emmanuel asked, his eyes alight with teasing.

  She paused for a moment to look at him, frankly as she had never dared before. Saw a tall man with the bearing of authority, a handsome face weathered by experience, dark hair shot through with silver, dark eyes brimming with affection for her.

  A husband any woman must be proud of. And he was hers.

  "Splendid," she said.

  He gathered her into his arms, kissed her brow and then her lips. The touch of his mouth tingled on hers. She drew him closer, hungry for the intimacy they had shared once and would share again - tonight, and on many nights to come.

  "Do you know," Emmanuel murmured, "that I am the luckiest man in the world? Other husbands may have said as much before, but none of them with such truth."

  Juliana laughed, she couldn't help herself. "And I am the luckiest wife."

  He held her at arm's length, studied her with open admiration. "And the most beautiful. Indisputably. Well, are you ready to head table in my hall?"

  Juliana took a deep breath, straightened her spine, summoned all of Mother's confidence. "I am."

  "Then, madam - " Emmanuel stood back, and offered her his arm, "allow me to escort you.

  ***

  It was easy, after all. She moved as in a dream, spoke with borrowed certainty, wished only for everything to go well. And it did.

  Now she was alone. Undressed, with her hair carefully combed and her entire body washed - because she had made good use of this strange unfamiliar solitude, she wanted to be clean and fresh when Emmanuel came to her - and chill with anticipation as she waited, naked under the sheet.

  She had attendants. Two ladies-in-waiting, the steward's wife and eldest daughter, both kind and courteous. She would be happy to keep them alongside her as friends in this new life. But she had sent them away, or rather asked them politely to leave, because she could not yet bear their intrusion on this most intimate of matters.

  In time, perhaps... She would get used to many new things, in time.

  But for now, she wanted only Emmanuel.

  The door swung open. He came into the room, brought a haze of wine and laughter with him. Shut the door on it, and left the two of them together in an odd muffled silence.

  Juliana swallowed. She felt unaccountably nervous, even though they had done this before.

  But in her home and with her family nearby, not in his and surrounded by his people. It made a difference. Never in her life had she felt quite so alone.

  Emmanuel paused for a moment, still by the door. Just stood there and looked at her, with such an expression of rapture that all Juliana's nervousness melted away.

  She held out a hand and beckoned him to her. He came towards her eagerly, boyish with excitement, and she laughed to see it. She pulled him down over her, sought his lips with hers, slid her hands over his body.

  Wanton. The word hung before her mind, chill and severe. Juliana hesitated.

  But she desired him. Fully and completely, with her body and mind and soul. That could not be wrong.

  They were married now, husband and wife. Before God, they belonged utterly to one another.

  "What's wrong?" Emmanuel raised his head to search her eyes. "If you are too tired - "

  Juliana wrapped her arms around him, and hugged him close. "Never. I want this. And I want it with you."

  He stared down at her like a man stunned. Then he bent his head to kiss her, and his lips and tongue found hers, and she lost all sense of decorum.

  "I love you," she whispered, her breath in his. And it was true, and it was glorious.

  For this, she would risk anything. Even life itself.

  Much later she cried out loud, borne on the crest of a wave of ecstasy. It did not occur to her to worry that anyone might hear.

  ***

  About the Author:

  Maria Ling lives on the edge of a moor in Yorkshire, England, surrounded by ruined abbeys and haunted caves. Visit her author page for for news about her work.

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  Also by this author:

  THE TOURNAMENT PRIZE

  MARIA LING

  She didn't know how she'd recognised him, whether from the proud tilt of the head or the ready tension of his bearing. But she held her breath as he paraded at a measured step down the length of the stand. His horse danced a little as he paused in front of her and dipped his lance. Caroline smiled and bowed acknowledgement, flushed with the warmth that thrilled down her body and rippled over her skin.

  Almost she thought she'd like a suitor, now.

  Not that she wished to marry. She couldn't bear to imagine the carnal meeting of the bedchamber. The moment she placed a real man within those bounds, the notion chilled her. She couldn't bring herself to believe there was any such thing as true desire, flesh to flesh and skin to skin.

  Mother said that with the right man, her body would know its own wishes and how to satisfy them. Which made Caroline more determined than ever to keep men away. Never to marry. Because she couldn't bear to imagine herself desiring a man, and showing it, and worse still, allowing him to... satisfy her.

  She fixed her attention fully on Alan, who had reached the far end of the lists and turned to face his opponent.

  Alan de la Falaise, the best young tourney knight in Flanders, has set his heart on marrying Caroline de Louvain - and he will not brook defeat. But Caroline prides herself on her firmness of mind, and she has sworn never to marry. Alan must summon all he knows of battlefield tactics to win the greatest prize of his career.

  Available now from your preferred ebook retailer.

  ***

  Also by this author:

  LADY SQUIRE

  MARIA LING

  "I wish I'd been born a boy," Merin said wistfully. "Father always wanted one. Then I'd have learned to ride and fight, just like you."

  Valent
in gave her an odd look. "We might have trained together. I would have liked that."

  "So would I." And it was truth. She'd have loved to work alongside him, share the daily adventures of ordinary life.

  "But," Valentin said hesitantly, "I'm glad you're a girl."

  They drifted to a halt in the shadow of Matilda's tent, while the bustle of the camp whirled around them. Merin looked up at him, tall and strong-shouldered, with an expression in his eyes that made her shiver.

  "I'm glad too," she said.

  He stood so close that it was easy to touch him, reach out and caress his arm. Just because she wanted to, with no thought beyond. But his eyes darkened with emotion, and he leaned forward, so near that a faint wisp of breath touched her face. Merin rose on tiptoe, rested her lips lightly against his, and they fitted so perfectly that she remained there, even as he slipped his arms around her body and held her to him.

  It wasn't the fervent passion she'd imagined, when she'd dreamed of love. But it sent a tingle clear through her body, a glitter of sensation that scurried along her nerves and buried itself in her palms and the soles of her feet.

  "Oh," Merin whispered, and held his shoulders as she settled back onto the ground.

  Merin may be a pretty girl, but she is determined that won't stop her becoming a knight and battling for honour in grand tournaments. But the life of a squire is harder than she anticipated. When she falls for handsome knight Valentin, she must prove to him - and to herself - that she is ready for the greatest combat of all: Love.

  Available now from your preferred ebook retailer.

  ***

  Also by this author:

  LADY KNIGHT

  MARIA LING

  Her smile faltered. She stared back at him with widening eyes, a deep mossy brown softer than he could ever have imagined. Her lips tempted him, too, slightly parted, he could bend his face to hers and -

  Christ and Holy Mother Mary. This wasn't on, he couldn't fall for her. Not a fellow knight, which she was - hard as he longed to regard her as a woman and a bedmate. They'd meet on the battlefield again, at the next tourney or the next, he couldn't...

  Maybe he could.

  After all, he'd seriously thought about seducing her.

  But not like this. It would have been a fun encounter, all pleasure and no commitment. And she'd have to be married, he'd sworn that to himself. But she wasn't, he'd swear to that now, there must have been some mention of the man before this moment. Even if he wasn't here -- which he would be, surely. What man of blood and flesh could stay away from her side?

  No, she was single, and glorious, and he desired her beyond anything he'd felt for a woman before. Which he couldn't show her, of course, she'd laugh at him or despise him or worse...

  Worse, she'd respond in the way his quick imagination promised that she would, all passion and lust and fierce enjoyment, and then...

  Guillaume swallowed what felt like a knuckle in his throat.

  Then he'd never let her go. Never relax his grip for an instant. Because if once he got close to her, so close as to make the two of them become one...

  "Take it outside." Roland, God and all the saints damn him straight to hell, chose that moment to butt in. "I like a good punch-up as much as anyone else, but some of us prefer to eat in peace."

  Tournament champion Guillaume has no mercy on rival knights - except for the one who is also the most ravishing woman he has ever beheld. But Matilda scorns chivalry, and aims to defeat him on the battlefield. Which means he must use other skills entirely, if he's to vanquish both her body and her heart.

  Available now from your preferred ebook retailer.

  ***