Chapter 4

Chapter 4

For a moment after she awoke, Blaze was not certain of where she was, and then her memories of yesterday came flooding back. She was at RiversEdge. She was married and she had slept wonderfully upon the most comfortable mattress she had ever known. It seemed strange, of course, to be alone in such a big bed. It had been the first time in her entire life that she had slept alone. She stretched herself down to her toes, and then turning her head, discovered upon the pristine pillow next to her own a single red rose, its stem wrapped loosely with a length of pale blue silk ribbon embroidered with tiny pearls. Pulling the ribbon away, she discovered to her immense surprise that an oval sapphire set in a gold frame was sewn directly into the center of the strand of blue silk.

"Ohh," she gasped softly. Even she in her remote home had heard of such baubles, but she had never expected to possess one. Sitting up, she affixed the ribbon about her head, as was fashionable, and then realizing she could not see herself, she climbed from the bed and hurried over to the pier glass. Blaze turned her head this way and that in order to admire the jeweled headband.

"Good morning."

She whirled to see her husband as he came through the little door that connected their bedchambers. "Good morrow to you, sir, and thank you so very much for my gifts!"

"Which pleases you more?" he queried curiously.

She paused a moment to consider, and then laughing said, "I am not certain. I adore roses, and I think it romantic for a gentleman to gift his lady so. Yet I have never received such a lovely present as this jeweled ribbon. I'm afraid, sir, I am a greedy creature. I like them both!"

"I think greed is not in your nature, Blaze," he told her. "Beautiful things are meant for beautiful women. I am but making up for lost time. After all, I sent you no betrothal gifts."

"No gifts!" she exclaimed. "Why, my lord, you have seen to the welfare of my seven sisters. No bride ever received a more wonderful gift! It was more than enough."

How good she is, he thought, and walking the distance that separated them, he took her in his arms, holding her close. "There is something I would have you do for me, Blaze," he said.

She liked the feel of his arms about her, she decided. It was safe within his embrace. Unconsciously she rubbed her cheek against the velvet of his quilted robe. "What would you have of me, my lord?" she asked him.

"A simple boon. That you call me by my name, Blaze. Since your arrival you have not once said it. You have called me sir and my lord, but nothing else."

"I was not certain, Edmund, that it was allowed," she answered him. "My mother told me I must wait until you gave me leave before I spoke your name. She said that some men prefer that their wives call them sir or my lord."

"I lay awake last night wondering how my name would sound upon your tongue," he said.

"How extravagant your compliment, Edmund. Beware lest you turn my head."

He laughed, liking her quick mind, which could repartee with him so easily. "On more serious and mundane matters," he said. "I have come to tell you that we will receive Father Martin's blessing upon the church steps at eleven this morning. My sister, Dorothy, and her husband, Richard, will come with Tony to witness it."

"I would repeat my vows, my lord. This time with my husband, and not a proxy. Would Father Martin permit it?"

He was flattered beyond measure. "I see no reason why not. I will arrange we repeat them within the church, with my family as our witnesses, and then we shall stand upon the steps for the church's blessing. The blessing must be there, for I would please our people in this way."

Giving her a kiss, he left her. Heartha came with a tray that held soft, warm white bread and butter and honey and a carafe of sweet, watered wine. "There's to be no Mass this morning, so you may break your fast with a good conscience, my lady."

When she had eaten, she bathed her face and hands in a basin of perfumed water and vigorously cleaned her teeth. It was then the tiring woman with the aid of several giggling young maidservants began to dress her in the lovely cream velvet gown with its gold-and-pearl embroidery. The little maids grew quiet, their eyes round with pleasure at the beauty of their new mistress.

"I would wear my new ribbon," said Blaze, and Heartha affixed it atop her head, smiling to herself at her lady's unconscious preening.

The double strand of pale pink pearls with its coral heart was fastened around her neck. The diamond studs with their pearl drops were set into her ears. Her long brown-gold hair was given a final brush as her matching slippers were slipped upon her feet.

"Now come and see yourself in the pier glass," Heartha said, and taking Blaze's hand, she led her across the room. "Did I not tell you that you are beautiful?" the servant said.

Blaze stared at herself in amazement. Her mother had had a small pier glass, but as their clothing was so shabby, Blaze had never felt the need to stare at her own image. Now, seeing herself in her beautiful wedding gown, she was astonished. "Do I have other gowns like this?" she asked Heartha.

"His lordship had a complete wardrobe made for you, my lady. You have dozens of gowns and slippers, each one prettier than the other. You have petticoats, undergarments, chamber robes, and capes of wool, silk, and fur. There is nothing for which you lack. You are, after all, the Countess of Langford. His lordship might even take you to court one day."

Blaze stared into the glass as the impact of Heartha's words struck her. She was a wealthy woman. After a lifetime of poverty, although she had never really felt a lack, she found herself a rich woman. She even had jewelry! Then suddenly Edmund was beside her in the mirror, and turning her head, she looked up at him with a smile. He was garbed in black velvet, his doublet bejeweled even more lavishly than the one he had worn yesterday.

"I believe, my lord Edmund, that we make a very handsome couple," she said.

"Aye," he agreed, "we do. Do you think that means we shall have handsome sons and pretty daughters?"

She blushed, but replied, "I hope so!"

Together they descended the staircase to find awaiting them at its bottom Master Anthony, a rather formidable-looking lady, and a gentleman with a sweet smile.

"Dorothy!" the earl said in greeting, and kissed the woman upon both her rouged cheeks. Then, stepping back, he said, "May I present my wife, Lady Blaze Wyndham, the Countess of Langford. Blaze, my sister, Dorothy."

Blaze curtsied politely to Lady Wyndham, although it was really the older woman who should have curtsied to her, for Blaze held the greater rank. Still, her gentle behavior pleased her new sister-in-law.

"A pretty wench," growled the elder lady, "but then so was Catherine, for all the good it did her. Can you give this family sons, Blaze Wyndham?" she demanded.

"I believe so, madam," said Blaze, realizing quickly that Dorothy Wyndham was more bark than bite.

"Humph," she said, her dark eyes snapping, and then, "My husband, Lord Richard."

"How do you do, sir," said Blaze as she curtsied to him.

"I do well indeed, my dear," came the reply. Richard Wyndham smiled his sweet smile. "What a lovely addition you are to the family, my lady Blaze." And taking her hand he kissed it.

"If I had but known how gallant the men of this family are, sir, I should have come sooner," said Blaze with a twinkle in her violet-blue eyes.

"Even me?" teased Anthony provocatively.

"I must think about you, sir," Blaze retorted quickly.

"Be nice to your aunt, Tony," snapped his mother. "You need a wife, and she has sisters for whom you would be an eligible parti."

Blaze was somewhat startled. Lord Anthony to wed with one of her sisters? Which one? Certainly not sweet Blythe, and Bliss would aim higher, ambitious girl that she was. Delight? Merry little Delight? It seemed the only option, unless he chose to wait five more years for Larke or Linnette.

"Come, sweetheart," said Edmund gently, breaking her reverie and taking her by the arm. "We are due at the church shortly."

A carriage stood before the door awaiting them, for the church was located upon the road between the villages of Wyeton and Michaels-church. The Riverside Wyndhams had their own vehicle, which Lady Dorothy, Edmund told his wife as they rode along, pretended was an accommodation for her, but in reality was for her husband, Richard, who was becoming more crippled each year. It was virtually impossible for him to ride any longer.

"Have they no other children but Lord Anthony?" Blaze asked curiously.

"Anthony had two younger brothers, Richard and Edmund, as well as a sister, Mary. He was no more than six and I ten when an epidemic struck RiversEdge and the other children were taken. Mary was only four months old. The other boys were two and four. We never understood why we were spared, for we were as sick as our siblings, but somehow we survived. My sister could not seem to conceive after that. It broke her heart, for she is a woman who loves children."

"Ahh, poor lady," said Blaze.

"She will enjoy her grandchildren if we can ever get that scamp of a nephew of mine to marry."

"Why hasn't he?"

"I do not know, except that it has never pleased him to do so. I wed with Cathy the day after my sixteenth birthday."

"When is your birthday?" Blaze demanded. "I know so little of you."

"August twenty-eighth. I have just celebrated my thirty-fifth year."

"I will be sixteen on November thirtieth," she replied. "You were married three years to Lady Catherine before I was even born."

"Nonetheless, despite my vast age, Blaze, I promise that once we are physically united I shall more than do my duty by you." Her innocent allusion that he was old enough to be her father stung him.

"Sir!" She blushed, and he chuckled.

The carriage drew up before the church, and the footmen hurried to lower the steps so that the earl and his countess might disembark.

"The church is called St. Michael's, which is why I had originally scheduled our wedding for its feast day at month's end," explained Edmund as he handed his wife from the coach and led her into the building.

A tall white-haired priest in his white-and-gold vestments awaited them. "Welcome, my child," he said, greeting Blaze. "I am Father Martin. I am to be your confessor should it please you."

The priest led them to just below the high altar of the church, where he allowed them to repeat the vows that Blaze had said the day before with her husband's proxy. She felt better speaking the words to, and with, Edmund. She believed that he would now feel more of a real husband to her for having said the words himself. While the priest prayed over them, Blaze glanced surreptitiously about the stone building. She had never seen such a rich-looking church. It had arched windows made of colored glass fashioned to show figures of apostles and angels. She had never seen windows like that before, and the candlesticks upon the altar were of gold!

There were several fine statues of saints, some of stone, some of wood which were painted and jeweled, including a wonderful interpretation of a militant St. Michael brandishing his gold sword. Edmund gave her hand a tiny squeeze. She gazed at him guiltily, but his warm brown eyes twinkled back at her in a conspiratorial fashion. Oh, yes! she thought. She could easily love this man.

"Now," said Father Martin, concluding the short ceremony, "the bridal couple must appear upon the church steps, where I will bless them."

As they exited the church, Blaze saw that the churchyard and the road beyond were awash with people who, upon seeing the earl and his bride, began to cheer. Father Martin smiled and held up his hands to quiet them. When it was silent once more but for the breeze and the birdsong, Blaze and Edmund knelt before the cleric upon the stone steps of the church while he blessed them in a loud voice that could be heard by even the farthest spectator. When he removed his hands from their heads and they arose to face their people, a mighty cheer burst from the throats of all those present.

"God bless the countess!" and "Long life, and an heir for Langford!" were typical of the words called to them.

The earl and his countess reentered their carriage, and, escorted by the crowds, moved once more down the road back to RiversEdge, where a great feast for all had been set up in the gardens of the house.

"I have declared this day to be a holiday," said Edmund with a smile.

Blaze smiled back at her husband. "I so wish my family could have shared this day with us," she said almost wistfully.

He took her hand in his, and turning it, kissed the inside of her wrist. "They will come when you are settled, I promise." His eyes caressed her, and she decided that she liked the turmoil that he caused with her senses.

An awninged pavilion had been set up for the wedding party upon the lawn at RiversEdge. Whole oxen, roe deer, sheep, and sides of beef were being cooked over open fires down by the river's edge. There were tables piled high with loaves of bread, wheels of golden cheeses, and willow baskets of apples and pears. There were casks of cider and ale already broached. Afterward there would be pieces of sweet bridescake for all.

At the high board there was more varied and delicate fare as well as fine wine. The bridal couple sat amid their family and the invited guests, who were mostly neighboring gentry, though none of as high a rank as Edmund Wyndham but for one, Owen FitzHugh, the Earl of Marwood.

Lord FitzHugh fastened a mischievously bold eye upon Blaze, saying as he did so, "God's foot, Edmund! Where did you find such a beauty?" He grinned winningly at her. "Madam, if you have a sister as lovely as you, I am in need of a wife. The tiresome chit to whom I have been betrothed since her birth has gone and died of a spotting sickness."

"I have seven sisters, my lord," Blaze replied, her look quite serious. "If you would but tell me your requirements, I am certain that my father could supply your needs. Would you have a maiden with golden hair, or one with dark tresses? We do have one who is a chestnut red, but alas, she is but five. You should have to wait at least eight to ten years for Glenna. All are quite sound of limb, and as breeding stock, our mother has no equal. Best of all, none squints."

Owen FitzHugh burst into laughter. "Tell me, madam," he managed to inquire between guffaws, "do they all have your way with words?"

She twinkled at him.

"Actually, Owen," put in Anthony, "my new aunt's younger sisters are all lovely, and there are three of marriageable age. I may take one to wive myself. What think you, aunt? You are barely married, and we have already matched two of your siblings. This marriage has already proved greatly to your advantage."

"I think, my lord FitzHugh, that you would be a most eligible husband for one of my sisters, should you be truly serious in your intent. As for you, nephew, you drink too much wine, and you talk too freely about matters which are not your affair," Blaze finished sharply.

"Ahah ha ha!" chuckled Lady Dorothy. "Here's one pretty maid not taken in by your handsome face, Tony. If her sisters are as sensible, I should be pleased to have one as a daughter-in-law." She reached over and patted Blaze's hand. "I like you, Blaze Wyndham!" she said.

"Gently, my love," Edmund admonished his bride. "You rise too quickly to Tony's bait. If you continue to give him pleasure, he will continue to tease you."

"I would certainly give him no pleasure!" she protested softly.

"Good," he replied, "for I would have you pleasure only me, sweet wife." He took her hand beneath the table, squeezing it for emphasis.

Blaze glanced up at him from beneath her thick lashes. Seeing the intensity of his gaze, she blushed a fiery pink.

The village children ran happily about the lawns. Blaze turned her eyes to them in her confusion. Beside her she heard her husband laugh softly, and the intimacy of the sound sent a shiver up her spine. She felt her breath shorten, and hoped that she wouldn't faint. A troupe of gaily clad Morris dancers arrived, having heard of the marriage celebration, and asked the earl's leave to entertain the wedding party. Since Morris dancers were considered good luck, the troupe was welcomed.

The afternoon was sunny and warm for mid-September. The dancers with their garb of bright ribbons and their tinkling bells moved gracefully, tripping through the ancient patterns, so old that their origins were lost in time. When they had finished their entertainment they were invited to join the feasting, and the earl rewarded the leader of the dancers with several silver coins. Local musicians now began to play upon the pipes, the tabor, and the drums. Anthony Wyndham and Owen FitzHugh thrilled some of the prettier village girls by dancing the country dances with them. By late afternoon, with the casks running low and the sun beginning to disappear behind the hills, it was deemed time to end the wedding celebration.

Since it was assumed that the bridal couple had slept together the night before, following the proxy ceremony, there was to be no "putting-to-bed" frolic, much to the disappointment of some of the guests.

"A lot of silly nonsense, if you ask me," said Lady Dorothy. "I remember when I married Richard how embarrassing it all was. You are fortunate to be spared, Blaze. Tell me, though I know it is early, will you be keeping Christmas here at RiversEdge? Catherine always kept a magnificent Christmas, the full twelve days."

"I should like to do that, ma'am," replied Blaze shyly. "I shall need you, however, to teach me how it is done, for I have never run a big house myself. I fear the simple customs of Ashby will not do for such a fine house of which I am now mistress."

"Why, bless me, Blaze Wyndham, I shall be delighted to guide you, though I doubt after this year you shall need me. Still, I am happy to be of use. Many of the customs here were kept in my own childhood. RiversEdge is a large house. You will want to invite your family to come for the Twelve Days of Christmas." Lady Dorothy was beaming with gratification that her brother's young bride would ask her aid.

"That was nicely done," approved Edmund several minutes after his sister and her family departed for their own home.

"I do need her help," Blaze replied candidly. "Though I would bring a part of myself to this family, I would not ignore the conventions that have been a part of RiversEdge since before my coming."

"What an interesting little creature you are, Blaze. You have a charming innocence, yet you have wisdom beyond your years."

"You flatter me, my lord. I have but a modicum of common sense. It is nothing more."

He smiled at her modesty. "Did you like our neighbors?" he asked her.

"Very much. Is the Earl of Marwood really looking for a bride, or did he simply seek to flatter me?"

"It is as he said. He was betrothed for twelve years to a young woman his late parents chose. She died last spring."

"Would he be an eligible parti for one of my sisters?"

"Absolutely! He is twenty-five years old. His title is ancient, though both his estates and his fortune are small. The dowry I have settled upon each of your sisters would be more than adequate for such a match. Have you a bride in mind for him?"

"I do not know him well enough to choose, but I think either Bliss or Blythe would suit. May we invite Owen FitzHugh for the Twelve Days of Christmas, my lord?"

"Aye. He would like that. He has no family left, and it is lonely for him. He spends little time on his estates, but usually follows the court."

"I am surprised then that he has not found a wife amongst the ladies of the court," Blaze remarked.

"There are many women at court, my sweet innocent, but those who are free are usually not the sort of women a man would take to wive. You would not know about such things, however."

The passing days slipped into weeks. It was an unusually mild and golden autumn. Blaze rode over the estates owned by her husband, and was somewhat taken aback by the vastness of the Earl of Langford's lands. He possessed enormous flocks of sheep and cattle. His orchards stretched as far as the eye could see. There was a large forest whose hunting rights were the Wyndham family's by grant of royal charter. There were nine villages belonging to the earl, including the two through which Blaze had passed on her wedding day. More than ever she became aware of the responsibility upon her to produce an heir for her husband. She had never in her life imagined that such holdings or wealth could belong to one person. It was a maturing thought.

Edmund Wyndham courted his young wife with a skill that only a man of experience could. There was not a morning that she did not open her eyes but to find some trinket or other token of his favor upon her pillow. Though he normally spent a great deal of time monitoring the running of his estates, Edmund temporarily put aside most of his personal responsibilities in order to spend the time with Blaze.

He found her an interesting young girl with a good mind and an eager intelligence that readily learned all he was willing to teach her. She could read and write. She had been taught simple mathematics, and church Latin. It was actually more than he had expected in a girl who had been raised so simply in a backwater such as Ashby. She had a small lute upon which she could play. Her voice was clear and sweet. Finding that she had an ear for languages, he began to broaden her Latin, and added Greek and French to her curriculum.

Their lives became a pleasant routine that ended before the fireplace in her receiving room each evening. There they sprawled upon a carpet before the warm blaze while he taught her the history of their country in story form. She had known very little of it, and she loved to hear his rich voice speaking to her of kings and queens, knights and maidens fair; battles in England, France, and the Holy Land; courtly love and tournaments.

Blaze was most intrigued by the current ruling family, the Tudors. She loved the tale of how Princess Elizabeth of York and Henry of Lancaster had wed, thus ending the Wars of the Roses and bringing peace back to England once more. She wept at the plight of poor Queen Catherine, the current king's wife, who could only produce one living child, her daughter, Princess Mary. Now it was rumored that after many years of marriage the king wished to put his wife aside.

"How can he do that?" Blaze demanded of Edmund one evening.

"There is precedent for such things," he answered her.

"But she is his wife in the eyes of both God and man, my lord!"

"Henry is King of England, Blaze, and he must have a son. Catherine of Aragon cannot seem to produce a living son, and is now, if the rumors be true, past childbearing. Other Christian queens have, with the church's blessing, stepped aside. Some have founded their own religious orders. Others have simply retired to some quiet spot and been honored for their selflessness to both their lord and their country.

"The queen, in my opinion, is a prideful and stubborn woman. King Henry should not have wed with her in the first place. She was his brother's widow, and had not the old king who ruled then been so greedy to gain her dowry, she would have been long gone back to Spain. Old King Henry, the present king's father, amassed great wealth in his time. When Prince Arthur died, only half of Catherine of Aragon's dowry had been paid. The old king thought to gain the other half by betrothing the widow to his younger son, the new heir, our present King Henry.

"The Spanish king, Ferdinand, was as greedy as our old king. An English prince had already, he believed, tasted of his young heifer's milk, and without the whole dowry. He saw no reason to keep his bargain with England to pay the full dowry. The English were not threatening to return Catherine, and were even betrothing her to the young Henry despite the fact that she was almost six years his senior.

"The old king stubbornly refused to give up his belief that the dowry would be paid. It is said that once it was, he intended returning Catherine to Spain and betrothing his heir to a French princess. The Spanish dowry was, after all, agreed upon for the match between Prince Arthur and Princess Catherine, not Henry and Catherine. There would have been no dishonor involved in the act."

"Do kings not believe in morality, sir? To have gained the whole dowry and then returned the princess would have been a terrible thing!" protested Blaze.

"A king's morality is generally suited to his own desires, my sweet," said Edmund with a smile. It pleased him that she reasoned so well. He would have to add logic to her schedule of learning.

"Why, if his father really didn't want him to marry the Spanish princess, did King Henry do it?" asked Blaze curiously.

"It is likely that the old king shared nothing of his plans with Henry. You see, Blaze, he was totally unprepared for Prince Arthur's death. His elder son was his pride and joy. Queen Elizabeth's too. She died a year after his death in childbed, but some said it was actually grief that killed her. The old king was never really the same after their deaths. He did not think a great deal of his younger son whom he intended for the church, and he preferred to keep the reins of government in his own hands.

"Finally, upon his deathbed old King Henry realized that King Ferdinand had outsmarted him. The rest of the dowry would never be paid. Had he managed to live long enough, I believe that he would have sent the Spanish princess packing, but alas, the old king died before he might correct the situation. The new king, our King Henry, was eighteen then. He was, and is, a tall, handsome man. The Spanish princess was a petite woman with red-gold hair and a pretty, youthful face. The king had admired her ever since he was a boy. He was not so much in love with Catherine as he was in love with love. Before anyone might convince him otherwise, he wed with her.

"There are some who say that her incapacity to birth a living son, and the fact that the two boys who did live past birth, but died soon afterward, is God's sentence upon the king for taking his brother's wife as his own wife. Those are judgments I prefer not to make, but I do believe that the queen should now step aside and allow the king to contract another, hopefully more fruitful marriage. The fault lies with the queen's inability and not the king's. That much is plain."

"Is it, my lord? How so? Both the king and the queen are responsible for the child's initial creation. Why should the whole blame be placed upon the poor queen?"

"It is obviously the queen, Blaze, for the king has a healthy living son by another lady."

"But if he is wed to the queen, how can that be?" she demanded.

For a moment Edmund Wyndham was completely and totally startled. That she was innocent he knew, but he had never suspected the scope of her naivete to be that wide. "Men," he said quietly, "even married men, occasionally find amusement and solace in the beds of women other than their wives, Blaze. If a man is particularly loyal to a woman other than his wife, she is called his mistress."

"Have you ever had a mistress?" she asked him artlessly.

"No."

"You never made love with any other woman but your first wife?"

"I did not say that, my sweet," he replied, his voice edged with laughter. Reaching out with an arm, he drew her near. "You ask far too many questions for a wife," he teased, his eyes growing warm with something she did not understand.

Blaze's breath grew short. Her heart skipped several beats as her belly knotted and unknotted. He put his mouth upon hers, and she felt her lips immediately soften as the pressure of his kiss grew. His kisses had the most mesmerizing effect upon her, despite the fact that they had been kissing for several weeks now.

He laid her back upon the carpet, and looking up at him, she managed to say, "But if I do not ask questions, how will I learn, my lord?"

He ran a gentle finger over her kiss-swollen lips. "I will teach you everything that you need to know, my sweet. I have spent so much time these past weeks on Greek and French and history that I have neglected a far more enjoyable part of your education." His graceful fingers swiftly undid the six little pearl buttons that ran down her pale blue silk chamber robe from the V neckline as, leaning over her, he put an arm about her shoulders. His other hand slid swiftly beneath the loose silk, caressing her breast for the very first time.

She gasped, and for a moment thought that her heart would burst through her chest. To her surprise, Blaze found that she was not frightened. Indeed she found his touch to be most pleasurable. With a soft little murmur she pressed up against his hand, feeling as she did that her nipple had hardened, sensing a rough spot in his palm with her delicate flesh. This action caused him to groan as if wounded, and unable to help himself, he forcefully tore away the delicate fabric of her chamber robe, baring her to the waist.

"Edmund!"

For a moment he was beyond reason. He covered the soft and sensitive flesh of her tender virgin breasts with his kisses, reveling in the sweet freshness of her skin and the delicate fragrance that clung to it. He seemed unable to satisfy some deep and primitive longing that was possessing him.

The shredding of the silk, the touch of his warm lips upon her skin, had set her senses reeling wildly. Some instinctive carnal knowledge told her that this was desire. Her husband desired her. If only he would love her a little, she thought sadly. If it were not just his longing for an heir. His mouth closed over one of her nipples, and he drew sharply on the sentient little crest. It was that small act that caused Blaze to cry out again.

"Edmund! Ohh, my lord!" She struggled slightly beneath him, seeking to escape the rather frightening passion he had unleashed with his lips upon her responsive flesh.

He wanted her! Dear God, how he wanted her! He wanted to rip away the remainder of the silk that hid her from him. He wanted to cover her body with his and plunge the weapon of his manhood deep into her warmth. His temples throbbed with his longing, but the tone of her sweet voice penetrated his consciousness, even if the words did not. Christos! She was his wife, and his by right, but she was also yet a virgin. He could do nothing that would destroy that fragile and wonderful relationship that they had spent the last two months building.

Reluctantly he raised his head from her breasts to see her half-frightened and questioning look. "Oh, Blaze," he said softly, "I beg your pardon if I have frightened you, but surely you must know that you tempt me beyond reason. I could no longer contain myself, or my desire for you."

"I did not know until a minute ago that you did desire me, my lord," she said somewhat breathlessly. "I do not find it unpleasing, Edmund. Indeed it is most pleasurable."

"Can it be," he said hopefully, "that you are ready to become my wife in the fullest sense?"

For the briefest moment he saw fear leap into her violet-blue eyes. "Not yet," she whispered. "Please, not yet, my lord!"

Gently he kissed her trembling lips, and his hand smoothed softly over her breasts. "Not until you desire it, my sweet. Only then. I want you eager for your initiation into love, not frightened."

Reaching up, she touched his face with her fingers, and caressed it. "I think, perhaps, that I am beginning to love you, my lord," she said. For a brief second her eyes met his. Then, blushing, she shyly looked away.

In the days that followed, the deepening desire between them escalated. He now felt free to catch her in his loving embrace, giving his hands license to roam at their will, and indeed she encouraged him in his passion. For the first time they lay together, though fully clothed, upon her bed. His kisses and caresses were like heady wine to her. Catching her small hand in his, he led it below his doublet, and Blaze felt for the first time the hardness of a man. Tremulously she let her fingers close around him. Then when he felt her fear easing, he encouraged her to stroke him.

"It gives you pleasure?" she asked softly.

He nodded, his eyes smoky with longing.

The next morning he hunted in his forest with his nephew, and his mood was subdued.

"So, you have not yet breached the virgin walls," mocked Tony. "If you do not do so soon, uncle, I fear for your sanity. You cannot produce an heir unless you do. How you have refrained from taking the toothsome little wench is truly beyond me."

Edmund sent his nephew a black look. "Have all the village girls grown wise to you then, Tony, that you lack amusement and must concern yourself with my marital state?"

"Ahhh," laughed Anthony Wyndham, "so you have not deflowered her! Your lance is ready, but her sheath is yet closed to you. Take her and be done with it, Edmund. She makes a fool of you! You are her husband, and her lord. It is what you want! Your wishes are what matter, not hers!"

"Nay, my nephew, it is you who are the fool! Cease your banter now, for I have no wish to discuss my private life with a stripling who knows naught!"

Anthony rolled his eyes mockingly, but quieted his tongue. He had never seen Edmund quite like this. Was it possible that his uncle was falling in love with his bride? The thought disturbed him, though he knew not why. When Edmund spurred his horse ahead, Anthony followed him into the deep forest. The morning was unusually warm for late November, and he could already feel a trickle of sweat slipping down from his neck. He loosened his shirt.

They hunted for most of the day, but though the dogs flushed several rabbits and game birds, they found no deer. They finally exited the forest in late afternoon at a fork in the road near a point equidistant from both RiversEdge and Anthony's home of Riverside.

"You're not asking me home to supper?" teased Tony.

"Nay, I'm not!" came the surly reply. A rumble of distant thunder seemed to punctuate the earl's point as he turned his stallion and cantered off with his men and dogs behind him, leaving his surprised nephew alone in the middle of the road.