Candle in the Window (15 page)

He swept his eyes across her tiny, elegant figure
and whistled with amazement at her own warped imagery. “Your
lumps are…well arranged.”

She ignored him. “Tall people have a presence
short people don’t have. You know that. You get respect for
having a greater length between your toes and your nose. ’Tis
easier to reach upper shelves, ’tis easier for small children
to find you in a crowd.” She laughed. “What do you want
to change about yourself?”

“It has been changed.”

“What?” she asked, puzzled for a
moment. “Oh, you mean
your sight. Happy
is the man who’s totally pleased with himself.”

“Isn’t
that
something you’d like to change about yourself?”

Saura thought about it. “Nay,” she
drawled. “Nay, I don’t think about it. My lack of sight
is simply a part of myself. I’ve never seen the world, and I
don’t miss it.”

“I had seen the world, and I hungered to see
it again,” he murmured.

“Aye, I can understand that. You
couldn’t function as a knight, do your duty, unless you had
your sight. I do almost everything a woman of my status is required
to do: order the meals, care for my serfs, direct the sewing.
I’ve cared for my younger brothers, raised them to manhood
until they were ready to be fostered in another knight’s
household.”

“You just deal with your handicap without
thought, neither seeking pity nor expecting it.”

“Pity makes me want to spit,” she
retorted fiercely. “And there are blessings to being
blind.”

William started, for that was his exact thought of
the previous morning. “What blessings?”

“I don’t have to feed my eyes on
ugliness, and I’m not easily fooled by what people say. I
believe people have a great capacity to lie with their faces and
hands, but not with their voices. When my mother wanted to know
another’s thoughts, she’d have me listen to them. I
could always gauge their sincerity.”

“A useful skill.”

“Aye.” Sniffing, she rolled her head
back and forth and she said, “Mint! Can you smell it?”
Eagerly she lifted the blanket, and pawed the grass bent with her
hand. “Here!”

Breaking the sprigs, she carried them to his face,
and he caught her wrist. Bringing her hand closer to his nose, he
breathed the zesty aroma. He looked at the dark green leaves
clasped in her delicate fingers, at her short nails
with the gloss of shell. He looked beyond that, at her face lit by
dappled sunlight and by simple pleasure, and a tenderness welled up
in him that quelled his pity. Whatever Saura deserved, it
wasn’t pity. He transferred her hand to his mouth and
carefully bit one of the leaves. As he chewed, the minty flavor
refreshed his mouth, and he led her hand back to her own mouth,
urging her to sample the herb. The dainty snap of her white teeth,
her smile as she chewed and the tang of spring developed on her
tongue; they all enchanted him.

Propped on her elbow, her black hair tangled and
the cotte slipping off her shoulder, she was an unconscious
seductress. What could he do? What he had avoided the night before
became, in the light and the fresh air of outdoors, a
necessity.

He kissed her fingers, one by one; he kissed the
palm of her hand. Placing her hand on his shoulder, he leaned into
her, moving with the slow precision of a gem cutter. Slanting his
mouth across hers, he lined up their lips, avoided their noses, and
pressed with light repetition until his respiration became
hers.

The wind dallied with the tendrils of her hair, and
could he do less?

He tugged her braid over her shoulder and untied
the bit of ribbon that held it.

“My hair’s a constant tangle with you
around.” She chuckled, a little catch in her laugh.

“’Tis beautiful.” He carried a
handful to his face and rubbed it across his skin. He wanted to
take his time, take her in this natural setting, and so he cupped
her face and absorbed her expression of slightly amazed desire.

His hesitation earned him a surprise. Her hand on
his shoulder pushed and he tumbled, off balance, onto his back.
“What…?” he sputtered, but
she leaned over him and held his face. She found his mouth with an
unalterable instinct and his breath caught on an inhale.

She had, he realized, no idea of a woman’s
proper place. What he had put down as a natural curiosity the night
before was, perhaps, more aptly described as feminine
aggression.

He didn’t know how to deal with it.
He’d heard of women who commanded the loving, but he’d
dismissed it as the result of inadequate virility on behalf of the
man. Without conceit, he respected his own masculinity, and he
thought she should, too. He needed to teach her about submission,
about how a man appreciates a woman who lies and waits for
attention, who’s properly grateful.

As her lips caressed his in the exact imitation of
his earlier attentions, and mint flavored their kiss, he decided he
could teach Saura her proper place later. Later, when she was done
teaching him with her eager hands and her subtle mouth.

“Are you comfortable?” She raised her
head to ask, and without pausing for an answer, she tucked the
blanket tighter. “Let me make you comfortable.”

Dragging at his shirt, she raised it to let the sun
shine on him. With her nimble fingers, she patted just the tips of
the blonde hair on his chest. The contrast between the warmth of
the sun and the chill caused by her titillation brought his hips up
against hers.

Leg draped over him, stomach to stomach, she
slithered down his body.

His hands sprang out to catch her before he
thought, but she pushed them away. “Let me serve you.
You’re my master. Let me make you comfortable.” The
words were humble, her tone was not.

Untying his hose, she tugged them down. “I
never did explore your legs,” she laughed throatily.
“So many muscles!
I can feel each
one.” She traced the length of one muscle and then massaged
it with a firm touch. “You’re so tense.”

He grunted, knowing his tension would dissipate
under one of her treatments.

She untied the rope at his waist and urged his hips
up so she could lower his drawers. The morning glittered like a new
coin; embarrassment struck him.

Exposed in the outdoors?

Never. William was reaching for his drawers to pull
them up when her hand brushed across him. Creeping up the sensitive
skin of his inner leg, she caressed his hips, found the evidence of
his arousal.

Light, gentle touches raised his fever and
destroyed his perplexity.

Exposed in the outdoors?

God’s teeth, he’d assist Saura in every
way possible. He flipped his shoes off to expedite her operations
and marveled at his own fond illusion of control.

The midnight of her hair caught in the golden curls
at his groin, and he admired the erotic effect with pained
suspense. How much longer could he hold out, he wondered. How much
more of this torture could he withstand? He grasped her under her
arms and pulled her up to his face. “Undress,” he
ordered. “Quickly.”

She stood up, her hands reaching for her ties, and
as he watched her body emerged from the cotte, gleaming like sweet
cream. “Quickly,” he urged again.
“Quickly.”

Still she stood above him, her brow wrinkled in
solemn consideration. Then she put one foot over him and stood
straddling him. Her face tilted to the sun; her chin jutted out,
casting shadows on her chest. Her breasts sat high, casting shadows
down her flat stomach. Her long legs glowed in the light.

He braced himself for her descent, prepared to roll
onto her, but she surprised him again. Why, he didn’t know.
Saura of Roget had done nothing that didn’t surprise him, but
this assumption of hers that she could sit on top of him. Surely
she didn’t expect to….

She did.

“How did you learn so much?” he
asked.

It took her a moment to comprehend the question.
“About what?”

“About pleasuring a man.” His finger
snuck out and tickled her, and she held herself rigid until he
paused. “Tell me, Saura,” he coaxed.

“What? Oh, do I give you pleasure?” Her
teeth gleamed in a brief smile that faded when he touched her
again. “I just think what would give me pleasure, and I do it
to you.”

He returned to his slow glide, back and forth in
hedonistic reciprocity.

Tossing her head, she murmured, “Nay.
William, nay.” Her lids drooped, veiling those violet eyes
and lending her an expression of sensuous enjoyment. Her lips
opened and glints of her teeth enticed him, enhanced by the tip of
her tongue held firmly at the side in intense concentration. Her
nipples puckered as a sudden shiver raced from the heart of her
gratification up her spine, and those eyes jolted open. In all
seriousness now, she said, “Nay!” and stopped him with
her hand on his, pushing away his fingers and guiding his
erection.

Slowly imprisoned by her body, he stared,
fascinated, as her savor of the moment gave way to a new urgency.
Her first upward surge caught him by surprise, and unschooled as
she was, she almost rose too far. He caught her hips and held her
as she readjusted. Then he helped her set a leisurely rhythm, in
tune with the morning peace.

He watched the clouds float overhead, looking so
close they could catch in the trees and yet so far up they piled in
towers above. Spring-green leaves swayed in the light breeze, and
one robin hopped from branch to branch, seeking just the right
twig. Saura’s face, set against that blue sky, was the
loveliest thing he’d ever seen: delicate and arousing,
sensitive and carnal. Beneath his hands, her thigh muscles bunched
and relaxed, riding passion from its careful beginning to the
ending of his choice.

Lifting his fingers to her breasts, he brushed the
tips with exquisite intent and was rewarded by a sudden agitation
inside her body. He smiled, prepared to provide for her
satisfaction, when she leaned over him, searching with her mouth.
Her teeth bit his nipples gently; she suckled with greedy
pleasure.

Shock, like a frenzied aphrodisiac, scrambled his
brain. He bucked beneath her, startling her with his new
insistence, and she responded with a sharp bounce. Suddenly, what
was a leisurely pleasure transformed itself into a race for
completion. They grappled for dominance; they struggled for
fulfillment, twisting and moving in a primeval beat.

Fighting as one, they strained in agonizing
pleasure and she reached her peak first. Her exulting scream rent
the air, startling the robin above them. In a flutter of feathers,
it sprang into the clouds, and William felt his body go with it.
Everything he was, he put into Saura, entrusting her with his seed
and receiving her euphoria in return.

Then she collapsed on his chest, moaning, “No
more,” but still shuddering when he curled into her.

He didn’t think he could move, but when she
quivered in the aftershocks, he found the strength to pet her head,
to rub her back, to press up against her pelvis and agitate her
once more. When he could find his voice, he murmured,
“Women are marvelous creatures. What I can do
once, they can do many times. Of course,” he laughed close to
her ear, “I can crawl away afterwards.”

“Base, proud tottyhead,” she said in a
voice tinted with scorn and laden with exhaustion.

“Has no one ever told you what a glorious
woman you are?”

“Nay.”

“Of course not. No man has discovered it, nor
will he. You’re mine.”

A pause. “Aye.”

Picking his words with care, he said,
“I’ve been lonely, looking for a woman with whom I
share common interests. I’m not a stupid boy, seeing only the
outer shell. I want to laugh, eat, sleep, talk with my woman. I
want a woman I like.” The lax body draped on his stiffened as
he spoke, and he wondered. “I like you. I like to laugh, eat,
sleep and talk with you. Your beauty and grace add decoration to
our meal, but it affects not the substance or flavor. As you said
earlier,” humor lit his voice, “you don’t have to
feed your eyes on ugliness, and my face is of no interest to
you.”

That stirred her to motion. “You’re not
ugly. Maud told me so.”

“Well, if Maud said so,” he chuckled at
her vehemence, then returned to rational discussion. “As for
the advantages to you, Lady Saura, I’d like to recommend
myself as a knight. If we were doing this correctly, my father
would be saying this to your guardian, but we’ve anticipated
the proprieties and I feel the need to point out my usefulness.
With all due modesty, of course.”

She wasn’t responding with the animation he
expected; indeed, she seemed to shrink into herself.
“I’m a great warrior, competent to command your men and
protect your
lands.” Her lack of
reaction, her deadly calm cut his words; he wanted to offer for her
in a way she would remember with honor all the days of their lives.
But this made her unhappy, he could feel it in the clutch of her
hands on his arms. “Therefore, Lady Saura of Roget, we will
live together and unite our souls as we’ve united our
bodies.”

“Nay!” She struggled up and off him.
“I cannot.”

She swept her hair back over her shoulders, her
hands trembling with a great agitation, and he observed her
closely. “Why?” he asked simply.

Groping for her cotte, she pulled it on with haste,
hiding her body from his gaze as if the fragile cloth were some
armor that would protect her from pain. “You’re not
thinking, my lord.” Tugging the laces, she seized on the
least of his concerns. “You’ve no need to marry me
because you deflowered me. ’Tis not necessary, not
necessary.”

Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around one knee.
“Did you not listen to all I’ve said? What happens to
us when our bodies meet is unique, a melding of two souls. Your
virginity, or your lack of it, influences me not at all.”