Word of Honor (Knights of Valor Book 1) (3 page)

Merryn
tried to tamp down her excitement and then decided it unnecessary. ‘Twas her
wedding day, so she should be allowed to appear joyful. She went to a new life
with the husband her father had chosen for her. A small shadow of grief passed
through her, knowing he would not be present today to witness the joyful
occasion. But he lived in Heaven with her mother, and now Lord Ferand and Lady
Elia would become parents to her.

Geoffrey’s
father always seemed a bit gruff toward her, but Lady Elia had mothered her
from the time she was small. She looked forward to living in their household.

But most of
all, she couldn’t wait to start her life with Geoffrey. She’d waited five long
years for him to come home from France. He’d arrived more man than the boy she
remembered. Taller. More handsome than before. Now a full score and one to her
ten and eight years. His dark hair, still thick, curled at the nape of his
neck. Oh, she would love playing with that tonight. Running her fingers through
it. Touching his hard-muscled body.

She
understood love play. Sephare had taught her not only about the use of herbs as
medicines but also what passed between a man and woman. Merryn wasn’t sure if
she quite understood how everything worked, but her heart would show her the
way. She only knew Geoffrey’s kisses enflamed her with need.

Tonight
that need would be met.

A knock
sounded at her chamber door. Tilda entered. In her arms she carried the blue
dress Merryn would don for the ceremony.

“Let’s get
this on ye, girl. Blue be for purity, ye know.”

She did. It
matched the blue garter she wore on her leg, another symbol of bridal purity.
She’d shown it to Geoffrey, who’d teased that her sapphire blue eyes would turn
green once they’d wed—since green was the color of love.

Merryn
blushed at that thought. She had daydreamed of him often while he fought the
king’s wars in France, lingering on that beautiful kiss before they parted. Yet
upon his return, the kisses he’d smothered her with were nothing like that
first one. They told her how much he desired her. In the two weeks since his
return, they’d shared many of those kinds of kisses.

And he
promised her the best was yet to come.

Tilda
helped her slip into her shoes and finally finished fussing over her by tying a
blue ribbon in her long hair. The servant stepped back and studied her
mistress.

“’Twill be
a beautiful bride ye are, my lady.” She wiped a tear away.

“Are you
sad to see me leave Wellbury, Tilda?”

“Ye’ll be
close by. I’m sure ye’ll visit often. Once we get yer brother married off, ye
can make friends wi’ his bride, and we’ll see ye ‘round many a time.”

“Did I hear
something about my bride?”

Merryn
turned and saw Hugh standing in the doorway, a smile on his face. He’d returned
two days after Geoffrey. The men had been thick as thieves, reliving stories of
their time in France. She was simply happy that her brother would be present at
her wedding.

“You look
most handsome, Hugh.”

He came and
took her hands in his. She looked into blue eyes the color of her own, though
his hair was the fair flaxen of their mother.

“You,
dearest sister, are stunning. Geoffrey is a lucky man to marry someone so
beautiful both on the outside and within.” He embraced her and then kissed her
cheek. “You have a sweet spirit, Merryn. I hope the woman I marry someday will
be the same.”

She
swallowed her sadness. Hugh had been betrothed, but his intended died from a
fever while he’d been away from England. She knew once he saw her married
today, he would begin the search for a bride of his own. He’d only known the
girl slightly, so he did not seem too affected by her passing.

Before she
knew it, Merryn found herself being led to the church. The minstrels guiding
her along the path played a merry tune. The people of Wellbury fell in behind
her, only to be joined by those from Kinwick and the village beyond. She even
saw a few good souls from Winterbourne merge with the growing crowd, but she
did not spy the earl of Winterbourne amongst them. The last she heard, Lord
Berold had not yet returned from abroad. It did not bother her. Her father
hadn’t particularly liked the earl. She felt much the same way.

As they
approached the closed doors of the church, Merryn saw the priest standing
before them, Ferand and Elia to his right.

But where
was Geoffrey?

Suddenly,
he stepped out from amidst the people surrounding her. Her pulse quickened at
the sight of him. He’d tamed his thick locks. They were brushed back from his
face, revealing his smooth olive skin and hazel eyes that sparkled as he
watched her draw near. His broad shoulders and muscled chest filled his dark
blue gypon and cote-hardie unlike any man present.

This
glorious warrior would soon be her wedded husband.

A
fluttering swept through her. Merryn grew faint. She pulled up and caught her
breath, which came in short pants, like a dog that had overheated. Her heart
raced. Her mouth grew dry.

She wanted
this man. Only him. For all time.

He moved
toward her and slipped her arm through his, steadying her.

“Don’t go
fainting on me,” he warned, but his tone let her know he said it in jest. He
led her to Father Dannet and signaled his cousin Raynor to move closer.

Raynor
leaned between them and whispered, “’Tis the best man I am, Merryn. The best
swordsman amongst those gathered. Geoffrey tells me a best man is chosen so the
wedding ceremony will not be interrupted.” He rested a hand on his sword’s
hilt. “I dare anyone to keep the two of you from wedded bliss,” he teased.

Father
Dannet frowned at Raynor. He took a step back from the couple but still
surveyed the crowd.

“Are ye of
age?” the priest asked them.

“Aye,” they
both replied.

“Do ye have
parental consent?”

“Aye.”

Merryn had
been told to answer thus. Though neither of her parents lived, her father had
signed the betrothal contracts five years prior, thus indicating his consent in
today’s proceedings.

“And
finally, are ye related in any way by law?”

“Nay,” they
responded.

The priest
nodded solemnly, satisfied by their answers. “Then we shall begin.”

Geoffrey’s
fingers entwined with hers as they stood next to one another, facing Father
Jannet.

She found
the next part of the rite boring. The dowry had to be read aloud for those
witnessing the ceremony. Merryn had read the contracts years earlier and had
almost fallen asleep while she did so, finding the language tedious. She wished
for this to be finished so they could get to the important bits.

“The
coins?” the priest asked.

Raynor
handed Geoffrey a small bag, which in turn he handed to her.

“I give
this to you, Merryn Mantel of Wellbury, to distribute to the needy. You shall
do so on my behalf as my wife.”

He’d
explained to her that once they joined in matrimony, she would be responsible
for financial management of his affairs if he were gone from Kinwick,
especially once his father passed and the title came to him.

Merryn
thanked Geoffrey and clutched the cloth bag in her left hand. His fingers again
laced through those of her right.

Father
Jannet gave a short homily. She found her mind wandered to what the feast would
be like.

And what
their wedding night would hold.

She found
herself blushing. Geoffrey looked down at her. She watched him bite back a
smile. He knew her well enough to know what thoughts filled her head at this
point.

“You shall
now exchange your vows.”

Finally,
they were getting somewhere.

Merryn
turned to face her betrothed. Although tall for a woman, she still had to tilt
her head back quite a bit in order to gaze into his eyes.

Her groom
looked very serious now. If she knew one thing about this husband-to-be, it was
that his word meant everything to him. Geoffrey was the most honorable man she
knew. The words he would speak would bind them legally and morally for
eternity.

“I, Geoffrey,
take thee, Merryn, to wed.”

“I receive
you.”

“I,
Geoffrey, give my body to you in loyal matrimony.”

“I receive
it.”

She
repeated the same vows, and then the priest called for their wedding rings.

Geoffrey
took the gold band and slipped it onto her thumb. “In the name of the Father.”
He removed it and placed it on her index finger. “And of the Son.” He then
changed fingers again. “And of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” He slid the ring onto
the third finger of her hand, its final resting place. Merryn smiled at this
physical sign of their commitment to one another.

“With this
ring, I thee wed. This gold and silver, I thee give. With my body, I thee
worship, and with this dowry, I thee endow.” His eyes blazed with
determination. She knew she married a good man who would keep these sacred vows
in his heart.

Merryn
repeated the same as she placed the silver band on his finger, marveling at how
a slim piece of metal and a few spoken words changed everything between them.

Father
Jannet nodded to her, and she opened the bag of coins. Children politely lined
up in front of her to receive one apiece, which they returned to their fathers.

With the
coins now dispersed, the church doors opened.

She and
Geoffrey followed Father Jannet into the church, the people behind them. After
the usual prayers and mass, the priest offered his kiss of peace to the groom.
In turn, the groom turned to offer one to his bride.

Geoffrey’s
lips met hers. It reminded Merryn of the kiss they’d shared five years ago.
Simple. Sweet. Full of promise. And hope.

They
parted. She looked into his eyes, seeing that satisfaction rested there. She
was now his wife for all time.

The
blessing followed, and the crowd parted so they could exit the building.
Geoffrey took her hand in his and literally ran to the doors and beyond. He
kept running, pulling them around the corner of the church, out of sight from
all.

Then he swung
her around, backing her against the stone structure, his hands encircling her
waist. Merryn gripped his shoulders. Geoffrey kissed her deeply, his tongue
mating with hers, branding her as his, and his alone.

Now she
felt truly married.

“If I eat
another bite, I shall burst!” Merryn proclaimed.

“You said
that after the cheese. And the eggs. Then after the boar’s head and pigeon. And
after—”

“Enough!”
she cried.

Geoffrey’s
hazel eyes twinkled with mischief. “So you think you’ve had your fill?” he
asked.

She nodded.

His hand
reached for hers under the table. He gave it a squeeze. “But my dearest wife,
you haven’t had your fill . . .  of me.” He leaned into her, his lips brushing
her earlobe, sending tingles down her spine. He whispered, “I plan to fill you
up all night. Every night.”

Merryn
sensed the blush rising up her neck, spilling onto her cheeks. She pulled her
hand from his and pushed him away playfully. “Do you enjoy being so
outrageous?”

Geoffrey
smiled. “Only with you.” He looked around the Great Hall. “’Tis time we think
about heading to our bedchamber. Mayhap we can slip away whilst everyone makes
merry.”

Raynor
suddenly appeared at her elbow, kneeling. “I assume ’tis time to bed now that
you’ve wed?”

Before she
could answer, he slipped a hand under her garments and ran it along her leg.

“Raynor!”
Merryn slapped at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He yanked
and slid her garter over her shoe and held it up. He looked to Geoffrey. “Did
you not tell her, Cousin?”

“Tell me
what?” She looked from one to the other.

“’Tis
custom for the unmarried male guests to try and snatch the bride’s garter when
the happy couple leave the feast,” Geoffrey explained.

“What on
earth for?” She looked back at Raynor and sized him up. “’Tis not as if you
would wear it.”

“Nay, my
lady. But I would give it to another.”

Geoffrey
put an arm about her shoulders. “If my cousin can find one woman he has an
affection for, he may give her this blue garter as a sign that he will be faithful
to her and her alone.”

Raynor
nodded. “Usually, ‘twould be done as you exit the Great Hall.” He gave her a
shy smile. “And that might lead to your embarrassment, my lady. Thus, I shall
let all know I have it in my possession, then they shall grant you some peace.”

He parted
from them, twirling the garter on one finger, moving amongst the trestle tables
to show off his prize.

“’Tis our
cue to rise and leave the merrymaking,” Geoffrey told her.

It still
took several minutes for them to depart. Final toasts were given, along with
hugs and kisses.

At last,
they ascended the stairs and made their way to Geoffrey’s chamber. Or rather
their chamber. Being married would take some getting used to.

Sconces in
the hallway lit their way as their steps echoed on the stone floor. A draft
filled the corridor. Her new husband wrapped an arm about her waist and drew
her close.

They
reached their destination. Merryn was happy to find a fire burned, warming the
chamber. Wine and cheese rested atop a table next to two chairs. Geoffrey
closed the door.

She found
herself growing nervous. What if she didn’t perform the marital act to his
satisfaction? What if she failed again and again, no matter how hard she tried
to please him? Would he be patient with her? It all seemed so complicated,
according to Sephare’s explanation. Watching various animals mate had not clued
her in sufficiently as to how humans went about the process.

Merryn knew
she possessed intelligence. She could read and make numbers do whatever she
wished. She understood about crops and how to make candles and weave
tapestries. More than anything, her familiarity with herbs and practice with the
sick had sharpened her skills as a healer.

But she now
ventured into uncharted territory.

Geoffrey
moved to the wine and poured some for each of them. She took the pewter cup he
handed her and downed the entire contents out of sheer nerves. She set the cup
down and began wandering restlessly about the room.

“Merryn?”
His soft voice called to her. “I have something for you.”

She turned.
Her feet moved toward him of their own free will. She stopped in front of him,
her mouth grown dry.

He pulled
something from his pocket but kept it clasped within his hand. Her curiosity
grew.

He placed
his palm against her face. It was warm to the touch.

“I provided
gifts for our guests and the priest, but ‘tis also customary for the groom to
bestow a gift upon his bride, as well.”

“A gift?”

Geoffrey’s
thumb caressed her cheek. “I am supposed to compensate you for your lost
virginity.”

“Oh.” She
took a step back.

He moved
back to her. His arms went around her waist. He tugged her to him. He dropped a
kiss on the tip of her nose then pressed his lips to her forehead. Merryn felt
cherished in that moment.

“I had this
made in France.” He brought his right hand around and opened it.

She looked
down and saw a brooch resting there. The piece had equal amounts of gold and
enamel, but what stood out were the brilliant sapphires.

Merryn
raised her eyes to meet his.

“Your eyes
are the bluest of blue, my love. When I saw these stones, I knew ‘twas meant
for you to wear. Will you do so, each and every day? I know ‘tis but a token of
my love for you, but ‘twould make me happy to see it pinned to your cote-hardie.”

She lifted
the brooch from his hand and smiled. “Never a day shall pass that I do not pin
it on. I shall touch it a dozen times a day when we’re apart, knowing we will
soon be together.”

Merryn
brought the piece to her lips and gave it a solemn kiss. She looked back at her
husband. “You spoil me. I have nothing for you.”

Geoffrey
slipped a hand inside his clothing and pulled out the gold necklace she’d given
him on the day of their betrothal.

“This has
rested next to my heart since we parted five years ago. I have never taken it
off. I never shall. You have always been next to me as I wore it. ‘Tis the best
gift I ever received.

“Till now.”
His hands cupped her face. “I know you are apprehensive, my love. But we shall
go on this grand journey together. Tonight is but the first of our many
explorations. Come.”

Merryn set
the brooch on the table. Her hand, warm in his, held on tightly as they crossed
the chamber. Geoffrey pulled the curtains from the bed.

“I must warn
you that the first time hurts a virgin. The pain is swift, but ‘twill quickly
recede. And it never comes again. Of that I can promise.”

She
understood that part of the coupling. Sephare told her that her husband would
penetrate her and break through her maidenhead. When Merryn asked about the
pain, the healer told her nothing compared to it. But it would be quick and
gone, and she wasn’t to dwell on it.

Still, she
found herself growing tense. She wished to get it over with so she could
concentrate on the good portion of the marital act.

Her new
husband rested his hands on her shoulders and gazed into her eyes.

“You are
the most beautiful bride that any man has claimed. I shall tell you ever morn
how beautiful you are.”

“Even when
I am wrinkled and gray?”

He smiled.
“Especially then. For that means we will have lived a lifetime together. In
love.”

With that,
he kissed her. The tenderness of his kiss sweetened as he deepened it, his
tongue finding hers. He slipped the circlet from her head and tossed it aside
so he could run his fingers through her hair.

They kissed
forever, his hands roaming through her hair and down her back, finally reaching
her buttocks. He squeezed them and pulled her against him. She felt something
hard and knew his manhood grew strong and solid.

Geoffrey
trailed kisses to her earlobe, his breath as whispery as velvet. His tongue
teased her ear, and a jolt of desire shot through her. His mouth continued down
her neck as he moved them to the bed. Merryn found herself suddenly lying down,
Geoffrey next to her. His kisses trailed to the top of her breast.

“Do you
trust me?”

She nodded,
the words unable to come.

Slowly and
lovingly, he undressed her, till all that remained between them was her
chemise. Then he stood and doffed his clothes. He took his time, allowing her
to study his body as each piece came off and the dancing shadows of the
firelight moved over it.

God in
Heaven!

When he’d
removed the last bit, he stood before her. Her mouth went dry. Her husband
seemed made of perfection. His arms and legs looked sculpted of stone. His
heavily muscled chest, covered in a dusting of dark hair that trailed to his
flat belly, made her want to run her palms all over it.

And his
manhood stood at attention.

Merryn swallowed,
knowing where it would go but unsure how something so large would fit.

“Do I have
your approval?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,”
she replied, her words whispered.

Then she
sat up and boldly pulled her chemise over her head. She thought it only fair
that he see his end of their bargain. She tossed it to the ground.

Geoffrey
gasped. His eyes widened as he looked at her. He reached a hand out to her. She
took it. He eased her off the bed.

She stood
before him, nervous, but remained still as his eyes roamed over her.

“Do I
please you?” she asked quietly, hoping she did.

He caught
her up in his arms. “Oh, Merryn. My most precious gift.”

This time
his kiss was heated, filled with excitement. She found herself responding in
kind. Somehow, they wound up on the bed again. He loomed over her, kissing her
breast, laving it, nipping at it. Each touch made a throbbing in her lower
region pound ferociously.

“I know not
what I need from you. Only that I do need you,” she told him breathlessly.

He touched
her where the throbbing ached most, his fingers parting her folds. He began
stroking her.

“Your
juices flow for me, my love.”

His fingers
left nothing unexplored. Merryn began writhing under his touch, her breath
coming in short spurts, her hips rising without thought.

Then warmth
exploded through her, like a thousand suns bursting into open flames, spreading
through her. She rode a wave of cresting pleasure, whimpering at its intensity.

As the
waves continued, his fingers left. Suddenly, she found herself filled again. He
thrust once, deeply, and she yelped as the sharp pain resonated.

Then it
quieted. And he began to move within her.

Geoffrey
pushed in and out, slowly at first, then increased his speed. The intense
feelings of pleasure returned. Merryn brought her hands around him, running her
nails along his back, her hips rising and meeting him as each thrust grew
harder, deeper, longer.

The ride
continued, like a galloping horse given his head, racing into the wind. Harder.
Faster. Harder. Faster.

Then
another round of pleasure came, more fervent than the first. She clung to him,
crying, laughing, her nails digging into to him.

Slowly, it
ended. He made a satisfied sound and collapsed atop her. She welcomed the feel
of his weight.

He rolled,
taking her with him. They now faced one another, lying on their sides. Geoffrey
gave her a soft, long kiss and then held her close. Merryn’s cheek rested
against his chest.

“So this is
love,” she said.

He kissed
the top of her head.

“This is
love,” he agreed.

“I rather
enjoying being married.”

He
chuckled. “I do, too, my sweet.”