then took the initiative. He reached to the brooch fastening the neck of her gown. Her hand went to his belt, and then travelled below it. Benedict groaned and pulled her into his lap. Julitta wriggled, seeking out the hard length of his manhood, her own desire heightening with each shifting movement.
'Ah God, Julitta,' he said hoarsely, and clutched her in an agony of pain and pleasure. 'Julitta, please.' His hands cupped her buttocks, assisting her to rise and fall against him. Her head went back, her throat arching, and her red curls stroking his knees.
Outside the haven of the garden, the gate guards shouted a challenge, were answered peremptorily and immediately set about opening the great wooden barriers to the troop demanding admittance. Fresh torches flared, illuminating the progress of mounted knights and footsoldiers.
Through a haze of sensation, Julitta heard the cries of the guards, the clatter of hooves and jink of armour. Her mind shrieked danger! even while her body sought its pleasure. Benedict had heard it too, for his hands gripped her now to hold her still, and his harsh breathing was suddenly held silent, the better to listen.
'Who could it be at this hour?' he asked. 'Surely not your father. He has no such troops with him, unless he has gathered them on his way home.'
The clattering and shouting continued. They heard the rumble of iron-shod wheels on the bailey cobbles, denoting the arrival of a baggage wain.
Julitta scrambled from Benedict's lap and rapidly shook out and smoothed her gown. 'Whoever it is, I will be sought to find them bed and board,' she said in a flustered voice. She flung her wimple over her head, secured her circlet, and drew the loose end of cloth through the loop.
Benedict watched her rapid movements and gnawed his lip. 'Julitta.'
She darted him a rapid glance through her lashes. 'No, Ben, say nothing. It would have been like the last time — great pleasure, and then great grief.'
'I only wanted to…'
'So did I,' she interrupted, her eyes suddenly bright with tears. 'It is not wise for us to be alone together. I do not trust you, Ben, but most of all, I do not trust myself! No, do not follow me,' she snapped. 'What will be said of us if we are seen emerging from the garden together at this late hour?'
She hurried down the garden path, still smoothing her gown and checking her wimple. Benedict cursed and struck his fist upon the soft turf of the seat. Some of it was natural frustration at the untimely interruption, but most of the anger was directed at himself for handling the moment with such crass clumsiness. He had intended seeking her out to smooth the ground between them, and ended up strewing yet more thorns. Tool,' he muttered to himself, and rising, went slowly to the silent bee hives. 'I am a fool,' he reiterated, and laid his hand against the side of the woven skep. A sense of the enclosed energy of the insects throbbed through his palm and along his fingertips. When a suitable amount of time had passed, he left the garden quietly, and went to discover whose arrival had both saved and stranded himself and Julitta.
Julitta closed the garden gate behind her, took several deep breaths, and then walked briskly towards the bailey entrance. There was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, a combined broil of thwarted lust, guilt, relief, and disappointment. She knew exactly how far she and Benedict would have gone without this interruption, and that she ought to be grateful. But no such emotion beat in her blood just now. With loins that still flickered, and with aching breasts, she went forward to perform the duty of respectable chatelaine.
A man clad from head to toe in chain mail was dismounting from a stocky chestnut stallion. The horse's neck was crusted with sweat and the scars of recent wounds were dark scabs upon its hide. Julitta's heart lurched and she almost screamed aloud in fear.
'Mauger!' Her hand went to her mouth, to her lips still full and red from Benedict's kisses. 'What… what are you doing here?'
He gave the reins to a groom and turned round. 'I could ask the same of you,' he replied while removing his coif and arming cap. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a short, deep cut under his left cheekbone.
'I, I…' she stammered, hoping against hope that Benedict would not leave the garden now beneath the full suspicion of Mauger's jealous gaze. Dear Jesu, what if the troop had arrived just a little later into the night. Her face flamed. She sought swiftly for a means of escape. 'Oh, that is easily explained, but surely you will be more comfortable if you come within and let me help you unarm.'
His eyes narrowed, but he nodded stiffly and consented to follow her towards the keep.
'You look as if you have ridden hard,' she said to engage his attention, and forced herself not to crane her neck in the direction of the garden.
'I have.' He rubbed a weary hand over his face. 'There is news, grave news from Rouen. Your father must be summoned, and Benedict too.'
Julitta's entire spine prickled with cold. Somehow she managed to keep moving. To have stopped and stared at mention of his name would have given her away. 'Benedict and Gisele are already here,' she said, averting her face so that he would not be able to read her eyes. 'They rode in from Rouen just before vespers. Neither of them mentioned anything about grave news.'
'No, they would have departed the city before Duke William arrived.'
'It concerns the Duke?'
They climbed the stairs of the motte slope together. Mauger's breathing grew laboured beneath the weight of his mail and Julitta had to slow for him. At the top of the steps, he paused to regain his wind, one hand pressed to the stitch in his side.
'The Duke is dying,' he panted. 'We went for the throat of the French, attacked Le Mans and set fire to it. His stallion, the chestnut your father gave him last year, it stepped on a burning ember and shied. The Duke was thrown upon his saddle pommel and it has torn him somewhere inside — mortally torn him. Messengers have gone out. All the tenants-in-chief who are able, are summoned to Rouen to hear his dying wishes for his lands.' He removed his hand from his side and straightening, walked slowly towards the hall.
Julitta now hastened before him and chivvied the servants to bring food for the returning men. Fires were stirred to life, and people poked to wakefulness. Julitta threw herself wholeheartedly into the duties of chatelaine, hiding her anxiety within her attention to domestic detail.
Mauger eyed her bustle with pride. Her behaviour these days was all of his doing. He had been right when he told Rolf that all she needed was a household of her own and the guiding hand of a firm husband. And yet the pride was mixed with a certain amount of doubt. She was a little too meticulous in her observations of duty, and he was not sure whether it was deference or fear that caused her to keep her lids lowered and avoid his gaze.
'That is my reason for appearing so suddenly at Brize's gates,' he said as she helped him remove his armour. 'But you have still not told me yours.'
She had fine, milky skin that coloured easily. Even though the solar was only illuminated by candlelight now, he could tell that she was blushing. Her lower lip chewed from side to side and she quickly turned away from him to set his discarded garments upon coffer.
'You said there was a simple explanation,' he said, watching her closely. 'Perhaps it is as simple as Benedict de Remy.'
He saw her stiffen for an instant before she turned round. This time, although her colour was high, she looked him straight in the eyes. 'Gisele and Benedict did not ride in here until sunset. I came to Brize because Lady Arlette had need of me. That is the truth, and you may ask anyone to confirm what I say.'
Mauger eyed her broodingly. Clad in the old, sweaty tunic he wore beneath his armour, he sat down at the solar trestle which was adorned with a spread of cold meats, a raised pie, bread, cheese and honey cakes. There was also a flagon of wine. He stabbed a sliver of meat on the point of his knife, and eyed the length of her legs beneath her garments. His loins tightened with pleasurable anticipation. Leaning over, he placed his left hand possessively on her thigh and squeezed.
'I hated every moment of soldiering in the Duke's army,' he declared. 'Jesu, I almost went mad of a night thinking of you alone at Fauville. You were alone, weren't you?'
Julitta looked down at the trestle, at his hand upon her thigh. 'Yes, Mauger, I was alone.'
He reached to the flagon, filled his cup and drank. 'But wishing you were not,' he said, and kneaded her thigh. She blushed again. Smiling, Mauger drained the cup, then drew her towards him. 'Show me,' he said huskily, 'show me how much you missed me, and I will show you how much I missed you.'
