Free Betrayal (Book 2: Time Enough to Love) by Jenna Jaxon

goblet of wine into Thomas’s hand. He took it and drank deeply. When he had drained the cup, he wiped his mouth and proclaimed loudly, “Aye, marriage is thirsty work. Best leave a bottle or two of this good Bordeaux, Patrick, lest I find myself with a mighty thirst come morning.”
    “Do you think two bottles will be enough then, Thomas?”
    The courtiers laughed and several began to drift out of the chamber. Thank Christ.
    Thomas grinned at his friend. “Leave three for good measure.” He handed him the goblet back, and the young man chuckled and withdrew, plunging him into darkness once more. He eased himself back onto the mattress and lay listening.
    “Thomas?” Alyse’s quiet voice sounded loud in the mounting silence.
    “Aye, my sweet?”
    “What are we going to do about—”
    “Shh.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it to caution her.
    They waited until the silence was complete then Thomas poked his head out of the curtains. One candle shone on the table amid bowls of roses and the three bottles of wine. He smiled at that then slid to the floor and went in search of the pitcher and washing water. After cleaning himself, he performed the same service for Alyse, taking the candle to light his way. She lay relaxed on the pillows and looked serenely at him as he washed her. No blushes rose to protest the sight of her nudity. Apparently, progress had been made.
    “Thank you, Thomas.”
    “There is no service I would not do for you, my lady.” He bowed low, hoping to coax a smile from her.
    She sat up, shooting a hand out to capture his. “What can we do about the sheets? They have your seed, but not my blood.”
    He patted her hand then strode to the mantelpiece. He searched until he found the implement he sought and brought it back to the bed.
    “Open your legs, my sweet.” At her astonished look he laughed, took the small paring knife, used to trim candlewicks, in one hand and her finger with his ring upon it in the other. With a swift cut, blood welled up on the pad. Thomas smeared the dark red stain between her legs, squeezed the finger again, and added more to the sheet.
    “Now we can truthfully say ’tis your blood upon the sheets and none other.”
    She smiled and patted the mattress beside her. “Come to bed, husband. It has been a strange night.”
    He extinguished the candle and climbed into bed. He settled himself next to her and, when she did not flinch from his touch, nestled her head upon his breast. “’Tis not over yet.”

Ch apter 7
     
    Alyse awoke early the next morning, unusually refreshed. She stretched, opened her eyes, and shrieked. Thomas’s honey-brown eyes stared at her from less than three inches away.
    He smiled broadly and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Did you sleep well, my sweet?”
    Scenes from the night before crashed into her mind, bringing heat to her face. She took a deep breath and willed them away. Think of this morning . “Aye, my lord. I did.”
    “That is good to hear, for we have much to do today.” He drew her closer. Her breath came faster as his mouth found hers, his lips hot and moist and sweet.
    It was over in seconds, leaving her strangely unsatisfied. He threw back the covers and slid to the floor. When he glanced at her, he laughed. Only then did she realize her lips were still puckered from his kiss.
    “Do not dawdle, madam, for we must be up and on the road in good time.” He stopped, and his voice took on a silky tone. “Unless there is reason to tarry in bed this morning?” He took a step back toward her. “We could delay our departure, if you wish?”
    Alyse saw the unspoken question in his gaze and hastily climbed out of bed. “Nay, Thomas. I have no reason to delay.”
    He laughed and turned away to begin dressing.
    Alyse made to follow suit, going to her chest, then frowned. “Where are we going?” She drew a fresh shift over her head.
    “To my estate in Sussex. I must arrange my affairs ere we sail, so the