Marian felt nauseated, and it had little to do with the fact that John had not waited for her to remove her kirtle. He had begun to untie the string at the neckline and was tugging it off her shoulders.
“Oh, and did I forget to mention”-John lifted the kirtle up and over her head; she raised her arms reluctantly and it slipped off, leaving her naked-“that Nottingham will be unable to join us? I’ve sent him off on a task that should take a good while.” He smiled knowingly at her, brushing away the hair that had fallen into her face. “So you need not watch the door.”
She braced herself when he leaned forward to kiss her, suffering the full, wet lips over hers and the hands that never seemed to stop touching her hair: brushing, combing, wrapping, lifting it.
Marian closed her eyes, realizing that it was best this way. If she did not fight him, if she pretended to participate or at least allowed him to do what he wished, it would be over sooner. It would be no worse than submitting to Harold’s fumblings. And once she escaped from his chamber, she would hide and he’d never find her.
And, most important, Will would never find out. She shivered.
Did he not realize whatever the prince did to her meant nothing? Naught more than her husband pumping and groaning over her?
“Ah, so you do like that,” John murmured, lifting his face from her neck, where he’d been gently biting along her shoulder. “I am not surprised. You are a passionate woman. I’ve seen evidence of it.”
He pulled her onto the bed and fell with her, taking her hand and bringing it to the great bulge between his legs. She fumbled with it through his braies, trying to think on anything but what she was doing.
But then he was fondling her breasts, kissing and licking her nipples, and she felt his breathing rise and the insistence in his movements as he pushed her back flat onto the bed. He straddled her now, and she closed her eyes, unwilling to look at his face as he prepared to push himself inside her.
A sharp tweak at her left nipple had her crying out in pain and her eyes flying open. “Do you not think to pretend disinterest,” he said, his face very near hers. Warm wine breath puffed over her and he smiled. “I expect that you will be a willing participant, Marian, or I might become annoyed. I do not believe you’d want me to be annoyed with you.”
Remembering the restraints, and the whips on the other side of the chamber, and the chessboard he’d made on the back of a woman who’d angered him, Marian kept her eyes open after that. Even when his fingers delved deep inside her, stroking and pinching and squeezing, she did nothing but bite her lip and try to think of something else. She dared not close her eyes again, but she wished to be somewhere else.
She’d tried the tactic of playing with his cock, trying to make him excited enough to get the act over with, to finish and be done with it. . but he’d only enjoyed that more, and made her stop and start over and over again, as if it made his pleasure grow to come so close and then to have the finish delayed.
He bade her wrap her hair around his cock and use the bright red locks to stroke him, but that made for awkward movements and he became frustrated with the game. Tearing off his braies, he took himself in hand, poising in front of her on the bed, and Marian thought at last it would all soon be over.
Just then the door opened and closed, silently. She didn’t hear but saw the movement behind John, or she might not have been aware that Will had just entered the room.
He had a sword in his hand, and he looked as if he’d just come from a battle. The expression on his grimy, sweaty face was the same blank, cold one she’d seen many times. Will didn’t look at Marian other than a brief glance, but he moved forward and pressed the tip of his sword into John’s back just as the prince seemed to sense his presence.
“Move away from her, my lord,” Will said in a tense voice.
“Will,” Marian said desperately. It had almost been over. And now. . he’d drawn a sword on the prince!
“Nottingham.” John turned warily, seemingly unaffected by the fact that he was naked from the waist down and that he had an impressive erection poking out from beneath his tunic. “I had expected Jem to keep you occupied for much longer.”
Then he seemed to notice the blade and his face turned darker. “You dare come into my chambers armed? And draw it on me?”
“Marian,” Will said without taking his eyes off the prince, “leave now.”
“Will, nay,” she began, seeing that he had no intention of dropping the blade from its threatening stance until she obeyed.
“Do not be a fool, Nottingham,” John said, reaching forward to jostle one of Marian’s breasts, giving his adversary a mocking smile. “You cannot keep me from what I desire. You’ve partaken and you will no longer hold me off.”
The sword tip moved closer, pressing into John’s tunic, and Marian gasped. She looked at Will, her eyes pleading with him not to continue with the madness, but it was already too late.
John’s face had gone dark and wild. “You’ll hang for this, Nottingham. I would have permitted a bit of insolence, but you go too far.”
“Marian, you must leave.”
“The woman is not worth your neck,” John said angrily.
“Aye, she is. Remove your hands from her, or I will drive this straight through.”
Marian felt tears welling up in her eyes. Fool! Fool! Did he not know what he was doing? He’d hang and she would be left alone.
“The queen is due to arrive any day,” Marian said.
John looked at her, his eyes narrow. “You lie.”
“Nay, I do not. She comes to see what you have plotted against the king.”
“Marian!” Will cried.
“I would know if a message from my mother had made its way here. She is not coming, and if she were, I-”
“You would. .?”
The strong, calm voice from the doorway stopped all of them.
Despite her nakedness, Marian dropped to her knees at the miraculous sight of Queen Eleanor. Her clothing was dusty from travel, her snow-white hair wisping from behind her traditional veil. But her blue eyes were sharp and clear as a bird’s.
Will dropped his sword and fell to his knees as well. Marian caught a glimpse of his face; it was back to dark and emotionless once again.
“John? You were saying?”
The prince adjusted his tunic so that it covered his sagging cock, gave a little bow to his mother, but remained silent.
“Lady Marian. From the sight before me, it appears that you have at the least accomplished the task I set you?”
Marian nodded, feeling John’s and Will’s eyes on her. “Did you receive my second missive, Your Highness?”
“Aye, I did indeed, and that is the reason I made such haste getting here. As you can see, I have just arrived. It was suggested by my half niece, Alys, whom I met in the bailey, that you might be in need of my. . presence.” She turned and looked at John, her eyes cold. “ ‘The wild dog’?”
“Your Highness, I can-,” he began.
“Put your breeches on,” Eleanor told him. “And you’ll need to clear all of your. . eh. . belongings. . from these chambers. And have the space thoroughly cleaned. For they will be mine whilst I am here. Which, my dear John, shall be for the foreseeable future.”
Then, for the first time she appeared to notice Will, who’d remained on his knees, head bowed. “And who is this who dares threaten my son?”
He lifted his face and Marian saw the grave seriousness there, reflecting his acceptance that his dishonor had been not only witnessed, but witnessed by the queen. “I am William de Wendeval,” he said in a strong voice that made no attempt of concealment.
Eleanor’s face lost some of its sharpness. “William de Wendeval, the Sheriff of Nottinghamshire?”
“Aye.”
She nodded. “Indeed. Well, then, I have much to say to you. You will attend me in two. . nay, three hours.
