Authors: Astrid Lee Donovan
Lady Catherine could not rightly believe what she’d just heard; aye, but she had to, considering that the outrageous, unbelievable words had passed her very own lips.
Standing before her fiancé, the right honorable Lord Gerald, and her knight servant, the ever noble Gaston, she had just related to both men the true essence of her fondest desire: that she wished to marry them. Both.
Also of passing interest was the fact that she communicated this information while lying naked and entangled with both men at the center of a fragrant, emerald leaved meadow, having just made mad and passionate love with both of them.
Although always something of a rebel, a woman determined to lead her life on her own terms—and not according to the dictates of a noble but sometimes oppressive British society--Lady Catherine never had ventured to ‘act out’ in such a flagrant—albeit downright enjoyable—manner; making love with two men at once in an effort to choose between them. Only to discover that, in the rapture of afterglow, she found herself unable to choose between her duke and her knight.
Ah, but what woman with a working set of eyes and hormones could choose between the refined, elegant Lord Gerald, a tall, statuesque man with hair of flowing gold, a bronzed, chiseled visage, and crystal blue eyes, whose muscled frame moved with uncommon grace in tunics that bore a royal crest depicting the image of a roaring gold tiger; and the strong and ever loyal Gaston, a tall muscled knight whose own tunics came emblazoned with the image of a ruby hued swan, her family crest, as well as a tight, form fitting chain mail hauberk that never failed to showcase his bronzed muscled form? Yet it was his wide ebony eyes that intrigued her most, opal gems framed in a face of chiseled splendor, also boasting sculpted cheekbones, a carved chin and full, moist lips.
It was Gaston, her dear friend since childhood, that had escorted her by horseback across the emerald, heather strewn meadows of the English countryside a day before—delivering her safe to the grand royal feast of Queen Elizabeth I, a ruler who she served with upmost pride as she sought to emulate the grand monarch in every manner possible. And it was Lord Gerald, her (first) intended husband, who sat by her side at the royal feasting table; sharing a fine meal before retiring to a common area of the feast hall to enjoy some rare and treasured personal time in one another’s company.
Only the time she shared, she found, was not quite as private as she would have hoped for or preferred; with her suddenly bashful fiancé, previously known for his many scandalous affairs at court, refusing to share his bed with her that evening—insisting that they wait until the night of their wedding to consummate their love.
Fortunately, however, the rubenesque lady with the fire red tresses found a lover that night to quench her incredible carnal thirsts: the knight that had pledged to serve and please her at any and all costs.
“And please and serve he did,” she remembered with a smile, smacking her lips at the thought of the forbidden night of passion that she’d shared with her protector and longtime friend; one who also proved to be an incredible and most attentive lover.
Leaving the royal feasting hall early the next morning at the side of her noble knight, Catherine had left a missive beyond to explain her absence to her fiancé; insisting that she needed just a bit of time to think upon their impending union--and, although she didn’t specifically put this part in writing, a bit more time to enjoy her clandestine affair with her willing, ever enthusiastic knight servant.
Apparently unwilling to grant her this brief reprieve, Gerald rode out the moment he received the missive, in hot pursuit of the woman he claimed to adore beyond all sense of reason. And when he arrived at the forest clearing where she and her lover had paused to share a deep, heartfelt conversation, he declared that he would do anything to prove his love and devotion for the woman he pledged to marry. Gaston at that point made a similar declaration, revealing his long held but very secret passion for the maiden he was sworn to protect; one he also had come to love.
“Oh, but what is a maiden to do?” Catherine mused now, shaking her head from side to side as she considered her dilemma. “I love these two gentlemen, just as surely as they love me. And, as I’ve known both for years, I also claim lasting friendships with both. I simply cannot imagine life without either of them by my side. And I also cannot bear the thought of them dueling or fighting for my favor, quite possibly harming and maiming, perhaps even killing one another in the process. I tell ye, I shall not have it!”
Finally, and at Catherine’s suggestion, the trio had decided upon a nonviolent means of settling this bizarre matter; thus enabling her to finally select one of the men as her eternal mate in life and love.
“And bed,” she mused, adding as her cheeks flushed hot with the very thought, “And we all know how very important that particular aspect of my existence is in my mind and heart.”
Indeed, perhaps it came as no surprise that the tournament she choose for the dueling duo was decidedly intimate in nature, with both men being challenged to lay with her in the fragrant meadow and display to her their individual lovemaking skills.
In the wake of a vigorous lovemaking session, one in which both men strove to pleasure and satisfy her in any way possible, she declared the tournament a draw; finding herself unable to decide between the lord and the knight.
And when they ventured to know her choice, she revealed it to them in full. She, in fact, had chosen both of them for the apparently coveted role of her future husband. And now she just awaited what was sure to be their calm, complacent and totally abiding reactions to her not so modest proposal.
“Did you well hear me, gentlemen?” she asked them now, wriggling contented between their naked bodies, as the radiant rays of the afternoon sun seemed to christen their newfound union.
And, or so it appeared, the sun was the only one.
“Ye want to marry us both?” Gaston gasped, adding as he shook his ebony haired head slowly from side to side, “With all due respect, milady, it is simply unheard of for a man of my station to marry a noblewoman.”
Catherine arched her eyebrows.
“Is it any more, um, heard of for a woman of any station to claim two husbands?” she asked him.
Gaston thought a moment, and then shrugged.
“Ye got me there,” he admitted, adding with a deep sigh, “Truly, Lady Catherine, your parents—the noble, exalted Lord Dirk and Lady Sophia—most literally will have my head if we propose such a ridiculous arrangement. It simply cannot be done.”
Catherine rolled her eyes heavenward.
“Lord, Gaston, how long have ye known me? I have spent most of my time on earth doing what cannot be done—of doing, at the very least, those very things that a maiden is not supposed to do,” she reminded him. “A maiden of nobility in this age has no business painting portraits, embroidering quilts and tapestries, or travelling across the countryside without a handmaid at my side and an iron clad chastity belt clamping my hips together like a lethal vise of death. Yet all of these things I have done—and often with you as my sole and enthusiastic witness.” She paused here, adding as she clutched his hand in hers, “Let us embark on our greatest adventure together, my friend. Let us be husband and wife.”
She wondered at the appearance of tears in her knight’s eyes as he clutched her hand in his; bringing it to his lips for a moist, warm kiss as he declared, “Yea, my lady, yea. I shall be honored to join with ye in the bonds of marriage; and I thank ye so much for realizing and fulfilling a lifelong dream. The dream that I thought could never come true.” He paused here, adding in a lower tone as he stared deep into her eyes, “Honestly, Catherine, I never could imagine living my life with anyone else. Ye were my dearest friend, my fondest companion, the woman I was bound to serve. I honestly can say I wanted no one else for a wife; at the same time, however, I knew that such a union never would be permitted. So I resigned at once to lead a solitary life—one devoted to your service and happiness, but notably lacking the own perfect happiness that I could find only in the role of your husband. Ye, my love, have made the impossible possible—as well as absolutely beautiful.”
With these words he swept his lady up in two adoring arms, holding her closer than close as he claimed her lips in a heated, passionate kiss.
“I love ye, Lady Catherine,” he whispered against her mouth, then plying it with his own as their tongues entangled between them.
“And I love ye, my dear Gaston.” For just a moment Catherine leaned into his kiss, wrapping her arms around his muscled shoulders as their lips meld in a romantic union; one that seemed to seal their fate as they clung to one another in a bond of love.
Their surroundings seemed to dissolve around them as they kissed and cuddled; the hum of gentle birdsong serenading the couple as they lost themselves in a binding kiss—their tongues entangling and their lips smacking together as their breaths intermingled. Catherine experienced a feeling of ultimate, all-consuming peace as she cherished the company of her oldest and dearest friend, all the while savoring the concept that he was finally and fully hers.
The moment was fleeting.
“Ye two, if I may beg your pardon.”
Catherine froze as she heard the deep, sonorous voice that belonged to her elegant, stately fiancé; her first elegant, stately fiancé, that is.
“Aye,” she mused through gritted teeth, turning slowly in the direction of the good Lord Gerald, “This matter could grow well complicated.”
“Ye think?” Gerald asked her, crystalline eyes blazing like diamonds on fire as he affixed her with a hard stare. “Catherine, ye cannot be sincere when ye suggest that the both of us join ye in marriage. Ye cannot possibly believe that both of our noble families will sit quiet and watch as Gaston joins us at the holy altar, with us both claiming ye as our wife. Ye also cannot believe that the queen will abide by such moral impropriety in the realm of her court and land.”
Catherine snorted.
“May I remind ye, my love, that Elizabeth the First has built her entire kingdom on the precepts of individuality and unconventionality,” she reminded him, adding as she waggled her eyebrows, “The Virgin Queen she may be called, but Elizabeth is anything but an unconventional woman. She no doubt will support her most loyal lady of court as she claims two fine gentlemen as husbands—while secretly pondering as to why she didn’t think of the idea first.” She finished with a chuckle, adding more seriously, “And as for our families, well it may take a bit to convince them of both the sanity and sanctity of our plan, tis true. Ultimately, though, do ye not believe that they want to see us all happy?”
She cringed at the sudden appearance of tears in Gerald’s eyes; and, unlike Gaston before him, his crystalline symbols of deep emotion did not seem borne from joy or excitement. Judging from his deep, pronounced frown, Gerald’s heart had broken at the news of his fiancée’s decision; one set to change the course of his existence.
“I well believed that I could make ye happy, Catherine,” he told her now. “Aye, but apparently I am not enough.”
Catherine sighed.
“Ye do make me happy, my darling, blissfully so,” she assured him. “I must tell ye, though, that—at various points throughout the course of our courtship—I myself have felt insufficient, at least in your eyes. I have seen with my own eyes the slender figures and incredible beauty of the maidens that line your past—the chambermaids, the countesses, the duchesses from distant lands…”
“Aye, I went to their beds,” Gerald admitted, “but I asked ye for your hand.” he paused here, adding as he rolled his eyes heavenward, “I simply wished to wait until the night of our wedding to claim yer other parts.”
Catherine smiled, but only briefly.
“Although my mind and heart loved ye enough to wait, I fear that my body could not,” she revealed, adding as she pointed an authoritative finger firm in his direction, “Ye are an amazing man, Gerald, and—if ye agree to our arrangement—I still would be honored to be yer bride. May I remind ye, however, that as a shrewd woman I know all too well the ways of noblemen? Ye may find yerself at court for a tournament or session of council, and—as many of yer kind do—indulge in a wee bit of a flirtation with one of yer past loves, or perhaps a new one. Now while most wives of our time would permit ye this indulgence, ye know all too well that a woman of my strength most definitely would not. And that, furthermore, I would retreat to my familial castle at the first sign of impropriety.” She paused here, adding with a sly smile in his direction, “Unless, of course, I had my own lover, to warm my bed until ye came home.”
“Now do wait a moment, dear love,” Gaston interjected, drawing the couple’s gazes in her direction. “Please be aware that, while my station in society may be lower than Gerald’s, I shall not claim my place as a second husband, much less a mere bed warmer.”
Catherine nodded.
“Absolutely not, and please do accept my apologies,” she told him, gracing his bulging shoulder with a warm, reassuring pat. “The fact remains, however, that as a knight ye must maintain yer home in a tower at the edge of our land, on the other side of the bridge and moat. In this way ye can continue yer time honored defense of our bodies, home and lands.” She paused here, adding with a flirty wink, “Rest assured, though, that ye are welcome at our family feasting table, as well as in my royal chamber….”