A Bedding
When the sleigh driver reined to a halt, Blythe was thrilled to see throngs of cheering citizens assembled to greet the hero of Andernach. She and her new husband stood in the sleigh and kissed, to the delight of the crowd. Dieter waved, scooped her up and carried her over the threshold of his house.
“Willkommen,Gräfin von Wolfenberg, welcome to your home, my Countess.”
She kissed him and rubbed her cold nose against his, warmed by his playful laughter. He sat her on a chair, eased off her boots and knelt to rub her feet until she stopped shivering. She marveled his hands were comfortingly warm though he had been outside in the frigid air.
Excited servants in brand new livery scurried here and there, looking important. When the guests arrived they were ushered into the dining room, and Dieter and Blythe took their places at the head table, accompanied by Caedmon, Aidan, Marius and Johann. Shy at first, the little boy had quickly responded to the loving attention Blythe had heaped on him. She was enjoying getting to know Dieter’s modest father who was clearly exceedingly proud of his son, and treated her like a queen.
Indeed, she felt like royalty as the festivities commenced. Their guests were happy for them, and she almost burst into tears when her beloved father winked and smiled. He had been the rock of their family and she felt privileged to be the daughter of such a loving man. She had met many young women at King Henry’s court who barely knew their fathers.
Her twin’s presence was a boon beyond measure. She caught him gazing at her thoughtfully several times and wondered what his true feelings were. She leaned in to whisper to him as the food was being served. “Aidan, you’ll always be the most important man in my life.”
He smiled back, clasping her hand. “No, I won’t, but I don’t object to being the third most important, after Dieter and Father.”
Caedmon rose to propose a toast. “It will be difficult to leave my daughter here, so far from home. However, I am confident she has married an honorable man who will protect and love her. Blythe has always been a credit to our family. You can be assured she will be a loving and faithful wife, who will provide Dieter with many healthy children.”
He paused, cleared his throat, then repeated his words in surprisingly good German. The smiling guests responded with applause and shouts of “Prost!”
Dieter’s father then proposed a toast, coming close to tears as he expressed his heartfelt joy at the happy future in store for his son and grandson.
Dieter embraced him, and then proposed a toast of his own to his bride. “I’m the most fortunate of men. I am today the husband of the beautiful Blythe. My bride is a woman of incredible courage and fortitude. Though she’s not of our homeland, she has embraced our culture and our customs. I’m proud to call her my wife. Please drink to the long life and health of my bride, Blythe Lacey von Wolfenberg.”
The toast was echoed loudly and tankards banged on tables. Blythe rose to respond. “Graf Dieter Von Wolfenberg is a man any woman would be proud to have as a husband. But he has given his life to me, and I’m humbled by his gift. I am doubly lucky that I have two new men in my life, Dieter and his handsome son, Johann.” She took a deep breath and smiled. “Meine damen und herren, drink to the long life of my husband, Count Dieter von Wolfenberg, the hero of Andernach.”
Again the toast was echoed and loudly cheered. Johann grinned, though he looked ready to fall asleep any second. His father tousled his hair and whispered in his ear. He came to Blythe and kissed her cheek. She hugged him, her heart full.
Servants served plentiful vegetables, including cabbage, carrots, onions, beets and garlic. Kippers made from herring caught in the North Sea were a delicacy appreciated by the guests, and Blythe was secretly pleased her mother had long ago learned the secret Montbryce recipe for trout. As soon as the guests tasted the delicate flesh she saw their amazement. Praise ran high for the roasted swan and peafowl. Beer and wine flowed freely, and by the time the krapfen—fried pastries with sweet fillings—were served, everyone was well into their cups—everyone except Dieter and Blythe whose intoxication came from heated glances exchanged between them. Johann fell asleep and was taken to his chamber by his nursemaid.
Dieter squeezed Blythe’s hand and leaned close. “I fear the archbishop is so far gone he may pass out before he has blessed our marriage bed. Let’s adjourn to our chamber.”
He rose and announced to the guests, “My bride and I will await you in our matrimonial chamber.”
Cheers and guffaws broke out.
When they reached their chamber, Dieter gave her a conspiratorial wink and urged her into bed fully clothed. She hesitated. “Wait! Let me take off your cloak.”
She raised her shaking hands to the ornate clasps holding his white cloak in place and unhooked them. The cloak fell to the floor and pooled at his feet. He put his hands on her waist and growled, “I suggest we lock the door and dispense with the blessing.”
To her surprise an echoing growl emerged from her throat as he brushed his lips over hers, lifted her on to the bed, and tucked the bed linens up to her neck. He climbed in beside her after pulling off his boots and tossing them against the wall.
Five minutes later, their giggles were interrupted by the solemn entrance of the tipsy archbishop, leaning heavily on his crosier, his mitre askew on his bald head. A crowd of well-wishers gathered behind him as he intoned God’s blessings on the marriage bed.
They struggled to be serious, holding hands beneath the covers, and finally burst out laughing when the last of the group left. The wistful expressions on the faces of her father and brother sobered Blythe a little.
The newlyweds flung the bed linens aside and stood facing each other, hand in hand, breathless, still fully clothed.
“What do you think of my chamber?” he asked. “Anna insisted on making it more welcoming for a female.”
Feeling a little guilty she’d had other things on her mind, she gazed about. “I must thank her. To be honest, I’m more interested in taking off all your clothes. I want to see my Black Knight naked. I’ve dreamt of it for so long.”
Grinning broadly, he undid the topmost fastening of his tunic then held out his arms in a gesture of submission. “Music to my ears,” he said.
She grasped the hem of his tunic and slowly, tantalizingly, raised it over his head as he held his arms in the air. She tossed the garment aside then smoothed her hands lovingly over his shoulders and arms.
“Raise your arms again,” she commanded. He obliged and she traced her fingertips through the black hair under his arms. “Silky,” she whispered as a bolt of longing shot through her.
His eyes never left her face.