Read Notorious Page 8


  Jane jumped to her feet and enfolded her niece in loving arms. “That’s wonderful, though I must admit it is no surprise. My son speaks of you constantly. I am so happy, Brianna. I love you dearly…You are the daughter I always wanted.”

  “When I told him we would have to wait until I was eighteen, he was grievously disappointed.”

  “Well, I think that is a wise decision. I was eighteen when Lynx and I were handfasted and I conceived immediately. I think seventeen is too young for motherhood, though many noble ladies are wed at fourteen or fifteen.”

  “I’m sure Lincoln Robert can be persuaded to wait a year for you. Your father actually waited more than five years for me, and Warwick is certainly not known for his patience,” Jory declared. She looked at Jane. “Brianna would like to spend a year at court with the queen before she gets married. Hedingham is close enough that she and Lincoln will be able to visit with each other throughout the year.”

  “That’s true. Promise me you will come often?” Jane invited.

  That night in the hall, when the subject of Brianna and Lincoln Robert’s future marriage was discussed, Lynx de Warenne championed his son’s cause. “Why don’t we draw up the contract and betroth them formally? That way, perhaps my son will stop worrying that you will entertain other offers for your beautiful daughter.”

  “I have no objection if Jory agrees,” Warwick declared.

  “And I have no objection if Brianna wishes it. They make a perfect couple,” Jory declared.

  Lincoln Robert took possession of Brianna’s hand and murmured, “I’d like us to be formally betrothed, sweetest, but I give you fair warning I shall still try to persuade you to marry me, long before you are eighteen.”

  “I shall like being wooed,” she whispered seductively.

  The Earl of Warwick and the Earl of Surrey negotiated late into the night. In the end a contract was drawn up giving Farnham Castle, in nearby Surrey, to Lincoln Robert. In addition, Lynx de Warenne agreed to give Wigton Castle, with its wealth of sheep, to Brianna on the day the young couple wed. It was also put in writing that Lynx’s eldest son would inherit Hedingham along with the earldom, and Guy de Beauchamp legally bequeathed his beloved Flamstead Castle along with its herds of horses to Brianna.

  The following evening, the two families gathered in the castle’s small library where Hedingham’s business affairs were conducted. Tall candles lit the chamber and illuminated the legal document that lay on the polished oak table awaiting the signatures of the young couple. The betrothal contract, as well as being a mutual promise for their future marriage, laid out in detail the properties that Brianna and Lincoln Robert would receive on the day they were joined in holy matrimony. The document must then be witnessed and signed by both sets of parents.

  Lynx de Warenne dipped the quill in the inkwell. “Though you know what we have agreed upon, I urge you to read the contract before you sign it, Brianna.”

  She smiled up at Lincoln. The warm glow of the candlelight emphasized the rich tawny color of his hair. She took the quill from Lynx, and knew that her future husband would look exactly like his father when he was fifty. The realization pleased her.

  Her eyes scanned the words on each page of the crackling parchment, and then she signed it with a bold flourish.

  Lincoln Robert stepped up beside her and he too carefully read the legal document. After he signed the betrothal contract, he captured her hand possessively and lifted her fingers to his lips while his eyes paid homage to her beauty.

  They watched their parents come forward and affix their signatures as witnesses. A betrothal ceremony required no exchange of vows or verbal promises of undying love, devotion, or fidelity. It was simply a straightforward binding, legal contract.

  To make the memorable occasion more personal, Lincoln Robert reached into his doublet and pulled out a small box. “It’s a betrothal ring to wear as a token of my love.”

  Brianna caught her breath and opened the box. “Oh, it is an emerald…my favorite jewel.” She held out her hand so that Lincoln could do the honors. She knew that emeralds were the traditional stones of the de Warenne family, handed down through the generations. “Mother has a large collection from which she generously allows me to borrow from time to time. I am thrilled to finally have an emerald of my own. Thank you, Lincoln.”

  “I believe a betrothal calls for a toast. I know some of you prefer ale and some wine, so I asked the steward to provide us with both tonight,” Jane declared, moving to a side table.

  Jory spoke up. “I believe I will forgo ale on this very special occasion. Let’s toast the betrothed couple with wine.”

  Guy de Beauchamp enfolded his daughter in his arms and dropped a tender kiss on her bright curls. “Remember that you are still mine. I don’t have to give you away for another year,” he murmured softly.

  He loves me with all his heart. How could I have ever doubted?

  Her father looked into her eyes. “If anything or anyone mars your happiness, come and tell me.”

  She went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. As if anyone would dare do anything that would earn the wrath of the infamous Earl of Warwick. “I love you, Father.”

  “Where shall we have the wedding?” Jory asked. “Flamstead is closer to Hedingham than Warwick and would be more convenient.”

  Father loves Flamstead. “Yes, let’s hold the wedding at Flamstead,” Brianna agreed.

  An hour later, when Brianna was readying herself for bed, Jane slipped into her chamber. “I too have a gift for you, but I wanted to give it to you in private. Though I know your mother will approve, since I painted one for her years ago, I’m not sure about your father. He frowns upon superstition and would likely scoff at the idea that a Celtic artifact has powerful mystic properties that can guide and protect you.”

  Brianna took the small silk bag from Jane, and could feel the oval shape of the object inside. “Oh, how lovely. You have painted me one of your Celtic touchstones.”

  “When you saw them on my worktable in the solar the other day, I could see your fascination. The moment you left, I decided to design one especially for you.”

  “The touchstones you paint with flowers, goddesses, and Celtic crosses are all extremely beautiful, but I hope you chose a symbolic animal for me.”

  “When you love animals so much, it was an obvious choice.”

  Brianna slid the flat, oval stone threaded with a delicate leather thong from the silk bag. She held it on her palm and gazed down, enthralled at its beauty. The symbolic animal Jane had painted for her was a silver-gray wolf with golden eyes.

  “The she-wolf is a Celtic emblem of power, intelligence, and secret knowledge. She is the chosen companion of the earth goddess Sironi. The she-wolf is a superlative mother, fierce, protective, and loving. She will guide and protect you on your journey through life.”

  “She is lovely. I can already feel her power. I thank you from the bottom of my heart!”

  “I’m so glad you like her. Good night, my dear. Sleep well.”

  When Brianna was alone she gazed down at the touchstone, amazed that Jane had chosen the she-wolf for her emblem. She traced the exquisite creature with her fingertip. “Shadow…Shadow.”

  She set the touchstone down on the table beside her bed, but once she slid beneath the covers, she picked it up and slipped the thong over her head. The wolf lay in the valley between her breasts, close to her heart. It wasn’t long after Brianna fell asleep that she drifted into a dream.

  She heard a sound in the distance that made the hair on the nape of her neck stand up. She raised her head from her paws and listened intently. The howl came again, stirring her senses and calling to the wild spirit that lay hidden, deep within her. She got to her feet slowly, silently, as her innate wariness cautioned her to use her eyes, her ears, and her keen sense of smell to alert her to the dangers that might lie in wait for her outside her den. The howl came again and the call to the wild was so tempting, so compelling, that it was almost
irresistible.

  With an age-old wisdom bred into her through generations of clever, wily ancestors she carefully weighed the risks involved. Her natural reluctance gradually eroded, replaced by the knowledge that the adventure that awaited her promised to be glorious. Her restless spirit hungered for excitement. Her every instinct thirsted for a soul mate.

  Silently, she moved from her safe haven into the shadowy, moonlit night. She slipped between the trees to where the ground began to slope upward, following an invisible trail that lured her to her destiny.

  Suddenly she saw him and stopped dead in her tracks. His black silhouette was outlined by the moonlight as he stood on the summit of the hill with his head thrown back. He was the most magnificent male she had ever seen. Instinctively, she knew the dark wolf would be dominant and dangerous, but she was ready to follow wherever he led.

  He scented her presence, turned to look at her, and howled a welcome that was elemental and primal. She drew closer, answering his call, and saw that his sleek pelt was black, his eyes a fierce light gray. He took a step toward her and she growled a warning in her throat. He ignored her warning and his tongue came out to lick and taste her. She nuzzled his neck, accepting him.

  Side by side, they loped down the hill, running faster and faster in a wild frenzy of joy, relishing their freedom, ecstatic that they had found each other. They covered miles of territory, over fields, through streams and woods until dawn began to lighten the sky. They flushed a covey of birds and playfully chased them, though they had little interest in hunting at the moment. The game of mating was far more pleasurable and held them in its thrall. Exhilarated by their nightlong dash, they found a clearing in the heart of the forest.

  He stretched his sleek body in the grass and she lay down beside him, admiring his dark male beauty. She felt the primal heat of arousal in her belly and rolled playfully onto her back, yielding to his dominance in alluring age-old feminine submission.

  Brianna awoke with a start. She sat up and saw that the first flush of dawn light was inching in through the open shutters, illuminating the lovely chamber that had once belonged to her mother. She felt the touchstone against her breast and it evoked a memory of her dream. “I was dreaming about Shadow.” A frisson of delight rippled through her as she remembered more about the dream. “No, I dreamed that I actually was Mortimer’s she-wolf.” Suddenly, she blushed and her delight turned to dismay, for she knew with a certainty the identity of the dark, dominant male who had lured her to indulge in the reckless, uninhibited mating game.

  Brianna deliberately dismissed the dream from her thoughts. This would be her last morning at Hedingham. After the noon meal, her father and brother were returning to Flamstead Castle while she and her mother were off to Windsor.

  Brianna had promised Lincoln Robert that she would ride out with him before she left, so that they could enjoy a private farewell. When she arrived at the stable, she heard laughter and identified the voices of her betrothed and his brother Jamie.

  “There’s one sure way to make Brianna beg to marry you long before she turns eighteen,” young de Warenne declared.

  “And what might that be, genius?”

  “Get her with child, of course.”

  Brianna was stunned at the blunt advice she had inadvertently overheard. She wanted to slap the young devil’s face.

  “My own thought exactly!” Lincoln replied, laughing.

  Very bloody funny, I don’t think! She turned on her heel and left the stable, but halfway across the courtyard she saw the humor in the situation. They’d die of chagrin if they knew I’d overheard them. She wasn’t naive enough to think males didn’t discuss sexual matters; it was likely their favorite topic. Upon reflection she decided to return to the stables. This time, however, she made enough noise to alert them.

  Lincoln Robert came to greet her immediately. “Good morning, sweetheart. I’ve saddled Venus for you.”

  “How thoughtful you are. Good morning, Jamie. It does my heart good to see brothers get along so well. Why don’t you join us on our ride? Lincoln and I would both enjoy your company.”

  Jamie glanced at his brother. “I don’t think—”

  “I insist…I won’t take no for an answer.” She watched the smile leave Lincoln’s face, and hid her amusement.

  “I’m afraid I must decline, Brianna. Father will have my scalp if I run off and—”

  “Oh, go on…I’m jesting, for God’s sake. As if we want a chaperone along to observe our tender good-byes.”

  He laughed with relief and left them to their own devices.

  “You should have seen your face. It turned dark as a thundercloud. I was only teasing.” She licked her lips. “I enjoy teasing you, Lincoln.”

  When he lifted her into the saddle, she gave him a provocative, come-hither look. “Catch me if you can.”

  By the time he finished saddling his own mount, she was out of sight. He didn’t catch up with her until he reached the orchard.

  Brianna dismounted and reached up to pick an apple. The one she wanted was beyond her reach, so she climbed into the tree. “I forwent breakfast this morning, so we could ride out together.” She picked two apples and bit into one with gusto.

  Lincoln was out of the saddle in a flash. He came to the tree and lifted his arms in invitation.

  Brianna took another bite and slowly licked the juice from her lips as she contemplated his invitation. Without warning, she sprang down into his arms and her momentum carried them sprawling to the ground. Lincoln rolled until he was in the dominant position. She held out the other apple and murmured seductively, “The woman tempted me.”

  He covered her mouth with his and kissed her hungrily. He was fully aroused and pressed his hard erection into her soft belly. He lifted his mouth from hers and gazed down at her with speculative eyes, as she lay supine between his thighs.

  “There’s one sure way to make me beg to become your wife,” she whispered temptingly. “Make love to me and get me with child.”

  Lincoln groaned and sat up. “Christ, Brianna, you heard us talking in the stables this morning.”

  “Indeed I did, Lincoln Robert de Warenne. And I hereby give you fair warning that I have more good sense than to allow you to seduce me.” Her eyes sparkled wickedly. “For at least another year,” she added saucily.

  When she made no move to get up, he leaned back over her. “Because you’ll be gone within the hour, I have an overwhelming urge to kiss you as you’ve never been kissed before.”

  Brianna was filled with the wisdom of Eve. They had already fought over her wanting to become a lady in waiting to Queen Isabelle, and she knew how much he disapproved. “It’s because I’m going to court. You have an overwhelming male need to put your brand on me.”

  “Yes, I do,” he admitted. “It’s because you would tempt any man to madness.” His lips crushed hers possessively.

  Lincoln Robert stood in Hedingham’s courtyard long after Brianna had departed. He cursed under his breath. He had never felt as frustrated in his life. Brianna acted as if she had done him a great favor in agreeing to the betrothal, when in fact it was the other way about. I’m the heir to the earldom of Surrey! A betrothal entitles me to certain rights that she took great delight in denying me. The cock-teasing little bitch has had me in a state of arousal for days.

  Lincoln eased his swollen cock into a more comfortable position and spied Rose, his mother’s serving girl, walk across the courtyard with a basket over her arm. His eyes followed her with speculation and he closed the distance between them.

  “Where are you going, my pretty maid?” he teased.

  Rose blushed at the handsome young heir. “I’m going to the orchard, my lord. Cook needs some pears.”

  You have a lovely pair! “Rose, I think I’ll come with you and make sure they are ripe.”

  Chapter 7

  “Jory! Brianna! I sent a message to Warwick, imploring you to return to Windsor. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for c
oming so quickly.” Isabelle was overjoyed to see the Countess of Warwick and her daughter.

  The de Beauchamp ladies went down before the queen in deep curtsies. “Your Grace.”

  The queen raised them immediately. “You must call me Isabelle, as you always did, when we are among ourselves.”

  “We didn’t get your message,” Jory explained. “As soon as we heard the Despencers were sent into exile, we made plans to come.”

  “We persuaded Father to visit his castle of Flamstead, so we could come to Windsor. I thought about you every day and I long to see baby Joan.”

  “She is a beautiful baby. The children will be so excited to see you when they waken from their nap.” Isabelle stared at Jory’s daughter with unconcealed admiration. “Brianna, it has been more than a year since last I saw you. You are no longer a girl, you are a lady…a beautiful lady.”

  “I decided she was old enough to learn the truth about Hugh Despencer, so there is no need to pick and choose your words, dearest Isabelle. After we were dismissed and sent home to Warwick, was it unbearable for you?”

  Isabelle’s blue eyes revealed her vulnerability as she remembered the indignities she had been forced to suffer. “Sometimes I fear the walls have ears. Come, let us go into my private sitting room where we can be comfortable, and I will tell you all.”

  The queen’s steward served them wine and discreetly withdrew.

  “On Hugh Despencer’s orders, all my ladies were dismissed and the loyal French servants, who came to England with me when I was married, were sent home. I was allowed to keep only my steward, Montebus, and his wife, Beth, who was my only lady of the bedchamber. I was deprived of my musicians and my dressmakers. One by one, all the castles that were in the queen’s dower were taken from me. First it was Brotherton in Yorkshire. Then it was Leeds nearby in Kent, which I dearly loved and visited often. After that Marlborough and Devizes were taken from me. Despencer took all my rents and revenues and kept them for himself. I had no money to run my household or pay my servants, not even Matilda my washerwoman.”