Blanche’s tumbling thoughts, scattered by her searing pleasure, slowly came back into focus. He is inside me, his seed is filling me, she thought, and felt a moment of panic. She wanted to shove him away, to cleanse herself, but he would not move. She felt him kissing her lightly on her ear, and smiled into the darkness.
“You are mine at last,” she whispered. Oddly enough, even though she had found great pleasure with him, she was thinking hazily of another, a knight with golden hair and bright blue eyes. You are naught but a silly fool, she chided herself. “When will you send her back to Brittany?” she asked, stroking her hands over his chest.
He said softly, still kissing her, “You will never worry about her again, Blanche. You will be mistress of my keep, and my wife. Very soon now. Very soon.” She felt him growing hard within her once again, and she was surprised when her body leapt in response.
He took her more slowly this time, until she was pleading with him in soft, mewling cries.
He laughed, and gave her what she wanted. She fell asleep in the crook of his arm, so sated that she was beyond words, beyong caring that his seed still filled her, beyond the niggling feeling that she wished it had been another to share her bed. I have won, she thought. At last I have won. I am safe, my son is safe.
Blanche awoke the next morning with no splitting headache from her overindulgence the previous night. Graelam was gone, but that did not surprise her. She bathed herself thoroughly, so pleased that worry of him seeding a child within her was only a minor thought. She dressed herself in her most becoming gown, a russet wool with a golden-threaded belt that emphasized her full breasts and narrow waist.
She hummed softly as she made her way to the hall. She saw Kassia seated alone, nibbling on a slice of bread. She frowned, wondering how she should act. Had Graelam told Kassia that he was setting her aside? She remembered his words. Very soon, he had told her. Very soon. She decided to hold her peace. Kassia would discover the truth soon enough.
Kassia raised tired eyes to Blanche, mentally preparing herself for sarcastic taunts, but Blanche, to her utter surprise, only smiled at her.
She noticed Blanche’s lovely gown and frowned, wondering why the woman was thus attired. She herself was wearing an old gown of faded gray, for she planned to oversee the cleaning of the stables herself. And the jakes. They were foul and needed a river of lime to depress the smell.
“You look like a serving wench,” Blanche observed, unable to keep the touch of triumph from her voice. After all, she defended herself silently, I have never won anything worthwhile before.
“Aye,” Kassia said, raising her chin slightly. “But then, I am mistress of Wolffeton, Blanche. ’Tis my responsibility to see that all is ready for the duke.”
Blanche laughed; she could not help herself. Blind little fool! So Graelam had said nothing to her as yet. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Kassia that her brief stay was soon to be over, when she heard Graelam’s deep voice. He was speaking to Guy about the final repairs on the eastern outer wall.
“Will you break your fast, my lord?” Kassia asked, rising from the bench.
“Aye,” Graelam said. “And a goblet of ale to clear my aching head.”
Kassia immediately left the hall to do his bidding.
Graelam stretched. His eyes fell upon Blanche. There was a gentle smile on her face, and he nodded at her.
“You have the look of a cat who has been well fed,” Guy said in a bland voice.
“Aye,” Blanche said, keeping her eyes soft upon Graelam’s face.
“One should never allow a cat to go hungry for too long a time,” Guy remarked as he sat himself beside Graelam.
Blanche looked at him uncertainly, wondering if he knew of his master’s visit to her chamber. Somehow the thought made her cringe with shame. “Is there anything I can do to see to your comfort, my lord?” she asked Graelam.
“Nay,” Graelam said shortly, turning again to Guy.
Why does he not say something? Blanche wondered, eyeing him with mounting frustration. Why does he not ask to speak to me alone?
She looked up to see Kassia, a serving wench following in her wake, carrying a large tray.
Kassia motioned for the girl to set it in front of Graelam. “I have brought enough for you also, Guy,” she said.
“Thank you, my lady,” Guy said. “I need to keep up my strength.”
“When must you leave us, Guy?”
Graelam thought he heard distress in his wife’s soft voice, and slewed around to l
ook at her. He saw only weariness in her eyes, and dark smudges beneath them, attesting to the fact that she had not rested well the previous night. What the devil did she want? he wondered, attacking the cold beef with a vengeance. After all, he hadn’t bothered her.
“I will leave when the duke does, my lady,” Guy said calmly. “I cannot in good conscience remove myself until Graelam has found another warrior to protect Wolffeton. I fear what would happen if I did go.”
“Conceited fool,” Graelam said without heat. “You know I have written to the duke. ’Tis likely he will have a knight in his train who is a landless lout, just as you were.”