His fingers tingled. The tightness in his loins was unbearable. Manfully, he closed his eyes and tried not to moan. He heard her move, felt her take his hand and place it over a firm, sweet breast. His eyes snapped open. ‘G...Gwenn?’
‘Make love to me, Ned. Make me yours. Teach me to...’ Gwenn hesitated, she had been going to say ‘teach me to forget’, but instead she said, ‘teach me to love you, as you love me. I need your love, Ned.’
‘But...but...Alan? He might be back.’
‘He won’t return for an hour or so.’ And remembering how swift their union had been on their wedding night, she added innocently, ‘And it doesn’t take long, does it?’
Ned winced.
‘Ned? What’s the matter?’
‘N...nothing.’
She stood directly in front of him, rested her head against his chest and folded her slight arms about his waist. ‘It’s alright for you to love me, Ned. I’m your wife.’
‘Aye. But you...you didn’t... You...disliked it.’
She looked up, and he saw with surprise that her cheeks were darkly flushed. ‘Disliked it? No, Ned, I didn’t dislike it. I liked you liking it.’ And it took my mind off my hurts, she thought. ‘Is there more to it than that?’
Again Ned winced. She was offering herself to him, unaware that she stabbed at his pride with almost every word. She felt no passion for him. One day, he vowed, one day, he would make her feel...
‘Love me, Ned,’ she said, as delicate fingers slipped to his belt fastening.
Ned’s hand rose to her neck. His fingers burrowed deep into the scented softness of her hair. Lowering his head, he murmured, ‘God, Gwenn, I do love you. So very much.’
‘Then love me now, Ned. Love me now.’
Their lips met. Ned’s knees buckled, and they tumbled, a tangle of limbs, onto Jean St Clair’s cloak. Gwenn gave a shaky laugh and planting a kiss on her husband’s chin, pushed his tunic up so she could stroke his chest. Ned gave a shuddering gasp, and dragged Gwenn’s mantle over them.
His mouth searched for hers, while his trembling hand ran down her hips to find her skirt-hem. ‘Love you...’
Afterwards, Gwenn lay on her back listening to the sighing, whispering leaves that gave the forest its name, Bois de Soupirs. Ned’s head was lost in the crook of her arm, and she assumed he had fallen asleep. Fondly, she stroked his light hair. This lovemaking was a mystifying business. Like the first time, it had not taken long; and, as before, Ned’s cry of delight had been mixed with anguish. Gwenn’s conscience smote her. Ned longed for her feelings to match his. She would have to have been fashioned from ice to remain unmoved by his undisguised need for her love. She felt profound affection for him, and it gave her pleasure to give him ease, but she knew that a deeper emotion eluded her. If only her mind was not misted with sorrow.
Absently twirling a strand of Ned’s wavy hair round her forefinger, she sighed. She loved her husband and was pleased her body gave him joy. She felt loving affection for him, but not passion. Would passion grow? Alan managed to wring responses from her simply by talking to her. He had kissed her once... No. No. That was wrong. She must not permit herself to consider how she would feel if Alan were her lover. She was married. Besides, how he would mock her if he knew. Firmly suppressing the thought that it was a shame she did not react to her husband’s kisses as she did to Alan le Bret’s taunts, Gwenn’s mind came round to her husband again.
Dear Ned. Her dear, dear friend. In case he was awake, and because she did care for him, and did not like to think of him hurting, she whispered, ‘I love you, Ned.’ He murmured a response, and a warm kiss was pressed against her neck. He was awake. He lifted his head and his eyes glittered in the lamplight.
‘Gwenn,’ he said softly, and the despair in his voice caught at her heart, ‘one day, you will love me.’
‘But, Ned, I do.’
The flaxen head shifted in a negative gesture. ‘I don’t make your heart beat fast,’ he said, sadly. ‘The love you bear me is not enough. I fear...’
She smoothed a wrinkle from his brow. ‘What do you fear?’
‘One day you will meet someone who makes your heart knock against your breast. The blood will sing in your veins, and I will have lost you.’
She laughed. His cousin made her feel like that, but she was not fond of Alan in the way that she was of Ned.
‘I’m serious, Gwenn.’ His voice was sober, thoughtful. ‘You rouse me so that I can think of nothing but you. And when we make love, I want so much for you to be there with me.’
Another husky laugh. ‘But I am with you.’
‘No. No, my sweet Gwenn, you are not. My greatest fear is that one day you will meet someone who has the same effect on you as you do on me. And then you will forget Ned Fletcher, and you will leave.’
‘No, Ned! Never.’ She touched gentle fingers to his lips. ‘I have promised to stand by you, and I will honour that promise. I do love you. I trust you more than anyone on earth. Trust is a great bond, Ned. Don’t undervalue it.’
He looked doubtfully at her, misery in his every line, and she cast about for something that would prove how much she did trust him. Pushing down her skirts, she climbed from their makeshift couch and dragged Ned’s saddlebag towards her. ‘Look, Ned. I want to show you something before Alan gets back.’
Mystified, Ned rested up on one elbow and watched as she pulled out the bundle of wrappings that hid her statue.
‘Do you remember my asking you not to mention to Alan that I had the Stone Rose with me?’ He grunted assent, and shifted over on the cloak to make room for her as she came back with her effigy. ‘Open the door of the lantern, will you? Look.’ She made a slight twisting movement. As the base fell away from the Virgin, a small pouch shot out. Gwenn picked it up, opened it, and held her bunched fist under Ned’s nose.
Her fingers uncurled.
Ned’s mouth fell open, and he reached the gemstone. It was cold and hard, and heavier than it appeared, and it caught the feeble lantern light, transmuting it into the clear sparkle of a fall of water on a sunny day. ‘Is it real?’ he breathed. ‘Did you have this all along?’
‘It’s real. Grandmama gave it to me. The women of our family have held onto it for generations, as a secret security. To my knowledge you are the first of our menfolk ever to have been told about it.’
‘A man could set himself up for life with this,’ he said. Over the gem, their eyes met. Ned smiled, and dropped the jewel into her palm. ‘Your trust honours me.’
‘Now I’m wed to you, Ned, everything I have is yours. In law, this gem belongs to you. You could buy yourself a warhorse, a farm, anything.’
‘No. I...I couldn’t. It’s yours.’
‘It’s ours, Ned,’ she answered softly, ‘ours. We are going to share it.’
Ned leaned towards her and kissed her shoulder. ‘My loyal Gwenn.’
‘All I’m saying is that I won’t desert you. I trust you. No woman in my family has ever trusted their man with this secret. You are the first, the very first. Ned?’
‘Mmm?’ Brow cleared of wrinkles, Ned idly weighed a dishevelled braid in his hand. His eyes lingered on the gentle swell of his wife’s breasts.
‘I’m telling you about the gem, but I don’t want Alan to know.’
‘Alan wouldn’t steal your jewel,’ Ned said, as he put a hand round her neck and drew her towards him.
‘You’re too trusting,’ Gwenn spoke into his mouth. Surprised by her husband’s ardour, she allowed herself to be pushed back onto the cloak. She had not thought that Ned’s need would return so soon, but she supposed she ought to feel glad that she had reassured him. While Ned’s hand groped for her skirt, she tried not to sigh, and fixed her unseeing gaze on the black, soughing canopy.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The hospital portal opened again after the tenth hour, and Alan led Firebrand out, laden with the goods he had bought. Brother Raoul, the hospitaller who had admitted him, had made it clear that Alan was being permitted entry at this late hour purely on account of his connection with Duke Geoffrey. Brother Raoul had been happy to supply Alan with foodstuffs – bread, cheese, apples, roast beef wrapped in muslin, and milk and oats for the infant; but more than this he would not do. There would be no physician to look at Katarin until they reached Gwenn’s kin at Ploumanach. Gwenn would be disappointed, but God willing they would reach Ploumanach in a couple of days.