Free Castle of Dreams by Flora Speer

but she held his mouth to hers, her hands now at his
head, and so, except for a few muffled groans, they made no
sound.
    He could not believe it was done so quickly.
His hand brushed a small, rounded breast, and stayed there, feeling
a point rising from its center in response to his touch. He wished
the fire were not out. He wanted to see her face, with the grey
eyes and the freckles, and her funny pointed chin.
    “Dear Kate,” he whispered, and heard a
chuckle. “Do you love me too? I thought you did, though you would
not say it.”
    For answer, she groaned and kissed him again
and put her tongue in his mouth, and he realized he had been
rubbing her breast, on and on, and that she was writhing beneath
his touch. Odd, how small her breasts felt in the dark. She grabbed
at him with both hands. He had not imagined it was possible to do
it again so soon after the first time, but there was no question he
could, and this time it was different, for she was twisting and
pushing against him and crying out softly as if she no longer cared
if they awakened Lionel and Isabel, and he sensed that this time
the explosion was happening to her, too. It was taking him longer
than before and it felt wonderful. It went on and on … Never in his
life known such hot, sweet bliss.
     
     
    He awakened in the grey dawn and thought it
had been a dream until he pushed aside the blanket and saw himself
exposed, his hose all undone. For a ghastly moment Guy thought he
had done this to himself while he slept, before he remembered Kate
and realized what must have happened. Kate had seen him taking
Lionel from the banquet hall, that was it, and she had followed
them. She must have seen Agnes depart from Isabel’s chambers and
guessed that he would be alone, guarding his brother’s door, and
she, dear, beloved Kate, had waited until everyone was asleep and
then had come to him to give him the marvelous gift of her love for
one night.
    He could not understand why, when he found
her bending over the kitchen fire later that morning and went up to
her and put his arms around her, she pushed him away and slapped
him and called him a silly boy. Perhaps, he mused afterward, she
wanted to be discreet, to save her reputation. He did not think she
regretted the episode, for he believed she had enjoyed it as much
as he had. He whistled happily as he went about his page’s duties
that day, for here he was, Guy fitz Lionel of Adderbury, almost
fifteen years old, and a man at last.

Chapter 7
     
     
    Lionel opened bleary, red-rimmed eyes, and
after a few moments of trying to focus them, glared at his
wife.
    “What the devil are you doing in my bed?” he
demanded.
    “It is my bed, my lord.” Isabel glared right
back at him, looking as fierce as she possibly could. “Your brother
brought you here last night out of concern that you would ruin
yourself in a drunken rage at the king.”
    “Guy did that?” Lionel lay back against the
pillows to ease his aching head. “He’s a good lad.”
    “That may be, but I am not so pleased he
brought you here.” Isabel, who was truly upset, blinked hard,
letting two tears fall from her lovely eyes.
    “What’s this?” Lionel stared at her. “My Lady
Ice, weeping? Are you so afraid I’ll ruin us both with the
king?”
    “No, not that.” Isabel pressed her lips
together to stop their trembling, then plunged on. “I know it is
your right, my lord, and I know you had been drinking heavily.”
    “Woman, what are you talking about?” Lionel
sat up, shaking his head carefully, as if to shake his wits into
order.
    “You.” Isabel swallowed hard and looked
straight into his eyes. “You asserted your husbandly rights over
me, my lord.”
    “I? Never!”
    “Well, you did it once before, and though you
said it would never happen again, it did, last night.”
    “It did?” Lionel looked at her with a blank
expression on his face.
    “I assume it was because you were drunk. And
angry. You were very rough about