The Lord's Right (10 page)

But she didn’t have much time to
consider the disposition of the man who would very shortly become
her husband, because before she could say anything to him at all,
she was whisked away to her room by a group of chattering women,
who didn’t seem to have any interest in her opinions or thoughts
about what they were doing. They were going to do it regardless.
There would be no betrothal with its traditional forty-day wait.
This was something King William apparently expected them to pull
off in a matter of hours.

And they did.

The few women who worked in the castle
had descended on her like a herd of locusts with their own
contributions of clothing and jewelry, and once that was
settled—with absolutely no input from Amber whatsoever—another set
of prattling females took charge of her hair and skin, making sure
to cover up the small divot caused by the tip of Seville’s
knife.

When they were finally finished with
her, Amber stood before them on a small pedestal, wearing a long
azure blue tunic with an embroidered blue ribbon veil. Matching
small flowers had been woven into her hair, and her cheeks, hands
and feet had been massaged and rubbed until they were satin
soft.

She’d never owned such finery in all
her life, and wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. She was afraid
to move, lest some harm come to the beautiful fabrics.

And she smelled like Mrs. Tulane’s
gardens looked, and all she could think was how angry the woman was
going to be at the loss of her precious flowers. But just then the
object of her thoughts stepped in front of her and handed her a
small vial, as the other women were filing out and heading towards
the great hall, to continue decorating there.

“
What’s this?” Amber
examined the tiny bottle.

The older woman had fiercely hoped
that she wouldn’t be asked any questions, but she should have
realized that Amber’s inquisitive nature was going to preclude that
possibility. “It’s, um, something to help you.”

“
Help me with what?” Amber
frowned up at her.

Mrs. Tulane sighed heavily and shook
her head, wishing she were anywhere but here, having to explain
this excruciatingly uncomfortable subject to this unusual girl.
“Your mum is gone, isn’t she?”

“
Yes, since I was a young
girl.” Amber watched carefully as her boss flitted about the room
nervously.

“
I just wanted to give you
something that would make tonight easier on you.”

Amber didn’t like the way this
conversation was headed at all. “What’s going to happen that’s
going to be hard on me?”

Already blushing, Mrs. Tulane turned
several deeper shades of red, glad when she’d put the small veil
over the girl’s head, so that she couldn’t see the depths of her
embarrassment as she spoke. “Bed sport can be uncomfortable for a
maid the first time.” She carefully didn’t mention the fact that
the master was a big man and undoubtedly well endowed in that area,
which was only going to make things that much worse for poor Amber.
“This will soothe the affected area.”

Her bottom? That was the only place
she could think of in conjunction with Sir Piers that ever needed
soothing. Not that she was portly, but it didn’t seem that there
was anywhere near enough of it to really help her. She wondered if
she should ask for more, but then thought that that might be rude,
and said a warm thank you and hugged the woman.

“
Are you ready, girl?” She
got the eagle-eyed once over from the sharp lady as she stood
before her. “Think of it, Amber. After tonight, you’ll be the lady
of this castle. A countess. ’Tis I who will be taking direction
from you from this day forth, rather than t’other way
‘round.”

In the whirlwind of everything that
had happened today, she hadn’t even considered the thought of just
how much her life was changing, and, now, having been reminded of
it, she decided right then and there that she was going to let it
change her as little as possible. She was still going to work in
the gardens as much as she could, she was still going to assist the
sick, and go out in the woods, and do what she’d always
done.

She was met by the women of the keep
at the bottom of the stairs, and there she paused. The hall had
been decorated beautifully, especially on such short notice, with
flowers that echoed the ones in her hair, and blue ribbons that
reflected those on her bridal attire. But what kept her feet
planted firmly on that last step was the way Sir Piers was staring
back at her, his face dark and unreadable. He was not a welcoming
sight.

But the women of the house weren’t
about to let her just stand there and stare at him, and they looped
their arms under hers and escorted her to stand in front of King
William, where her groom already stood in a fine blue robe which
had also been decorated with a deeper blue embroidered ribbon.
Amber could see that he had bathed, and she fretted that she hadn’t
been given the opportunity, knowing his fondness for it.

There was no time for worry, though.
The king himself performed the ceremony, which, to Amber’s
thoughts, was entirely too short. Before she knew it, she was
agreeing to submit to him in all things, then she was wearing a
heavy gold ring, and he was kissing her as if they were alone in
his chamber instead of in front of the entire population of the
keep.

When he had just allowed her to
straighten up—she could plainly hear his men snickering and the
women giggling behind their hands at the length of the kiss—the
heavy wooden double doors opened and two women who were obviously
of noble birth were escorted into the room, surrounded by a small
contingency of soldiers that Amber recognized as Piers’.

The smaller and younger of the two
disengaged herself from the group, ran up to Piers and launched
herself at his feet to grovel there like some rejected slave girl,
wailing, “Please, my lord, please, I beg you, please do not tell me
that you have forsaken me for another!”

Amber could see the distaste on Piers’
face as he reached down and helped the young woman to her feet. Had
he not continued to hold her arm, she would have dissolved again
into a heap on the floor.

She didn’t think that it would have
been possible for Piers to have looked any more uncomfortable, and
it didn’t help when an older woman who was obviously the girl’s
mother, came forward to execute a deep curtsey to Sir Piers, and
then an even deeper one to the king.

“
Lady Constance,” the men
both said at the same time, and with the same amount of dislike in
their voices.

Having straightened to what was an
unusually tall height for a woman, she accused, “Is what we’ve been
told true?” She gave Piers a particularly unctuous stare. “Has he
broken his betrothal to my daughter?”

King William stood, and the lady
retracted herself, but only slightly. “I, personally, wedded Sir
Piers to Amber Cooper just moments ago.”

Amber wasn’t spared so much as a
glance. “Minutes ago? Then there’s been no chance to consummate the
marriage, and it can be annulled, as my Josette is finally here
after an absolutely frightful voyage. We should like to be taken to
our chambers now, and after a rest we should like to have dinner
brought up to us.”

Piers had forgotten that, although
Josette was meek and biddable, and would have made the perfect
wife; her mother was the exact opposite of both of those
adjectives. He’d also forgotten to mention to Mrs. Tulane that they
would be coming, and he doubted that there were any chambers
ready—or even available—to accommodate the ladies, what with the
king in residence.

Piers opened his mouth, but it was
King William that spoke. “I’m afraid, dear lady, that I have
largely exhausted Sir Piers’ hospitality, especially considering
that this is only temporary quarters. I suggest you take a seat and
enjoy the food and amusements.

“
As to the other item, Sir
Piers and Amber are wed, and that will be undone by no man, or
woman, Madame.” Then he smiled at her quite nicely, and took his
seat as the wailing began anew from Josette.

Amber and Piers ended up back at the
high board, with Amber sitting next to Piers rather than assisting
with the serving, which was quite a change, while Lady Constance
and Josette sat nearby, but kept themselves as separate from the
men as they could manage. Piers kept a wary eye on the men, and had
already given Bruce the word, on the way to the table, that they
were to give all deference and respect to the women. He’d set Mrs.
Tulane to working out whatever room arrangements she
could.

Were it not for his new wife, he would
have given up his own chambers and gone to sleep with the men. But
he could hardly expect Amber to vacate what had now become her
chamber, too, on her wedding night.

He was married. To Amber. He kept
staring at her, he knew, but he couldn’t quite believe it. And,
seeing Josette now, and the way she was acting, he couldn’t be too
unhappy, despite the fact that he disliked the lack of control he’d
had over the situation and his choice of bride.

He certainly couldn’t say he didn’t
want her, could he? Especially when he’d spent the whole day trying
to tamp himself down, with only the most limited success. She
looked beautiful in the gown the women had found for her. It was
nice to see her in something other than the rags she usually wore.
Granted, they were clean, but they were beyond well worn, or they
belonged to a boy.

Part of him wanted to drag her up to
his room right now, but he knew that the feasting would go on for
hours.

But not, apparently, if King William
had anything to say about it.

“
What do we say, men–” he
bowed low to the ladies, “–and ladies, it looks to me as if the
groom is quite eager to begin his wedding night. He looks at his
bride as if she’s quite a tempting morsel, and he’s a beggar at a
buffet! Shall we show him some mercy, lads?”

The two of them were escorted up to
Piers’ rooms by everyone in the hall with two obvious exceptions.
It was considered good luck to try to get a piece of the bride and
groom’s clothing, so everyone was touching them, and Amber found
herself being groped quite rudely, until she was literally
deposited next to him on the bed. The anxious crowd was going to
assist them in undressing, too, as was the custom, but Amber’s
distressed tones, and the fact that he’d seen her go for her knife
had Piers placing himself in front of her, bodily defending her
until the disgruntled well-wishers agreed to depart as he wrestled
the knife away from her as discreetly as possible.

Mrs. Tulane was the last out,
whispering loudly enough for those they’d left behind downstairs to
hear. “Don’t forget the potion I gave you.”

Piers was out of the bed almost before
she’d closed it behind her, locking it loudly and then turning back
to her. On his way to the small sideboard near the bed, he asked,
“Potion?”

Amber shrugged her shoulders. “She
gave me something that she said would help soothe the affected
area. I figured it should probably go on my bottom.”

To her surprise, Piers threw his head
back and laughed loudly.

Frowning, she expounded, “Well, that’s
the part of me that seems to need the most soothing around
you.”

Now he was laughing even louder, much
to her disgust. Amber decided she wasn’t going to say anything more
about it.

He stood next to the bed and handed
her their wedding chalice, which he had scarfed from the hall and
filled with a solution that should help her relax some after such
an eventful day. He couldn’t imagine that she’d suspected she’d
have ended up married by the end of the day, either. Especially not
to him. He could say that the feeling was entirely mutual, not that
he was objecting, really. “I think this will help you more than
anything Mrs. Tulane could come up with. Have a couple of good
swallows, Amber.”

She’d never drunk anything like this.
It tasted a lot like an extremely good wine, but there were herbs
floating on the top, too. It could have been their wedding grog,
but that was supposed to have been delivered to them by their
guests, later. And from the sound of the lock on the door, they
weren’t going to get a chance to do that.

Piers was rapidly shedding his own
clothes by his side of the bed, and shortly he came around to her
side to help her stand next to the bed so that he could divest her
of her own wedding finery. He extended his hand to her imperiously,
expecting instant obedience, but Amber merely sat there, looking at
his naked body and biting her lip.

He would not have her disobeying him
from the beginning of their marriage. If she needed to spend their
wedding night with a sore behind, then he was more than willing to
oblige her. Piers leaned over the edge of the bed and took her hand
and began tugging her inexorably towards him. “I expected obedience
from you as my servant, Amber; did you think I wouldn’t now that
you’re my wife?”

Realizing that he was going to punish
her once she arrived next to him, Amber did everything she could to
resist him, and would even have gone for her knife, had he not
beaten her to it, damn the man. Her trusty blade was thrown well
away from the both of them, towards the door as she found herself
sliding closer and closer towards him and the inevitable
comeuppance he always delivered for whatever infraction she’d
committed.