A Night for Her Pleasure Read online

  A Night for Her Pleasure

  Terri Brisbin

  Author Note

  Welcome to the beginning of my new series of stories about the Knights of Brittany! Four sexy, brave warriors–three illegitimate and one noble–were fostered and raised together and became a fighting force in Brittany during the rise of William of Normandy. Three followed him to England in the hopes of wealth and lands and power, oh, and wives, of course!

  This short story, A NIGHT FOR HER PLEASURE, is loosely-based on the theme of the O Henry story, A GIFT OF THE MAGI, and is about two people in love who only want to do or be what the other person wants or needs. Trying to ignore their own desires and dreams, Simon and Elise spend their wedding day learning about each other and pledging that they will be exactly what the other wants in a spouse. The results are not quite what either expects, but when the heart is involved, nothing goes as expected.

  I hope you enjoy this sensual story about the path of love and will look for the first of the KNIGHTS OF BRITTANY stories, THE CONQUEROR’S LADY, coming in July 2009 from Harlequin Historical. Please visit my website at www.terribrisbin.com for more info about me and my current and upcoming releases.

  Enjoy!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Rennes, Brittany

  Spring, 1066

  “Look at her,” Simon ordered, nodding in the direction of his—wife. It still felt strange and new to him to call her that—not difficult to understand, because they had only married that morning. “Just look at her.” His blood heated just glancing at her.

  Giles, Brice and Soren all turned to look across the crowded hall to where the women sat in various groups during the wedding feast. Elise had made her way over to her mother and her cousins and sat chatting with them, all the while enticing him with her innocent demeanor and simple beauty.

  “She seems to be in good spirits, Simon,” Brice offered. “Though I am surprised she is here.”

  Simon turned and realized that his friends were looking at the wrong woman. Before he could correct them, Giles interrupted.

  “As am I. Alianor looks unseemly happy for a woman who is losing her lover and protector to the clutches of a wife.” Giles held up his cup in a salute to Simon and then to Soren. “Mayhap she will be looking for a new one, Soren. What think you of her beauty and manners?”

  Soren opened his mouth to speak, but laughed instead. “I will wait to see how smoothly things go between Simon and his wife. He may be back in Alianor’s bed sooner rather than later and my efforts would all be for naught.”

  Simon’s graphic curse stopped further discussion of his mistress and startled some who stood close by their group. Turning his back to them, he lowered his voice.

  “I was speaking about Elise, you fools, not Alianor.” Simon drank the rest of his wine in one swallow. “Bastards” He cursed under his breath.

  “Without a doubt, my lord,” Giles said, nodding to Simon. Stepping closer, he smacked Simon on the back and laughed. “We but sought to ease the moment.”

  “Am I that obvious then?” Simon could feel the tension growing within him over the coming night…and taking Elise to his bed. He’d wanted her from the moment he watched her dismount in front of his keep, and now that she was his in the eyes of the law, he only wanted her more.

  “Just as much as any other groom, Simon,” Brice offered.

  Glancing across the room again, he watched as she smiled and nodded at something one of her women said. His body reacted strongly to her beauty and femininity. And the thought of holding her in his arms, touching her skin, tasting her essence and initiating her into the pleasures of the marriage bed this night made him harden yet again.

  Then, as he watched his friends appraise her, the heat of jealousy pierced him. The three drew women to them like flies to the sweet, and he had no doubt that with their experience in the ways of wooing women, if any of them turned their real attentions to her, they could show him up for the rough, brutish man he truly was. It was only the hope that he could be different for her, different to her, that allowed him to believe he could make her happy in this marriage.

  As though his thoughts had called her name, Elise raised her pale blue eyes and met his gaze. Tossing the hip-length waves of auburn hair over her shoulder, she tilted her head to the side. His throat tightened and his mouth grew dry, but his blood pulsed and his heart raced as the corners of her mouth lifted into the gentle smile he was coming to crave. Soon, she would truly be his. The sound of his friends’ whispers drew him from his lost moment and back to the problem facing him of the coming night.

  “She is yours, Simon. Surely you know that even as everyone in this gathering does,” Soren assured him. “What is it that has your ball—trews twisted in a knot?”

  The others laughed at their friend’s witticism, but Simon did not. Taking in a breath and letting it out, he turned to face them. In a lowered voice, he finally admitted his deepest fear.

  “She is a virgin.”

  The others looked one to the other and then back at him.

  “Of course, she is, Simon. Her virtue has been well guarded by her family. Even her dimwitted father knew enough to keep her from his plans,” Giles answered.

  Elise’s father had backed the wrong noble in the dispute between the imprisoned Duke Conan and his usurping uncle Count Eudes who tried to wrest control of the region from him. Simon’s family, connected to both sides of the embattled family by blood, had remained out of the fray, but he suspected that Eudes and his progeny would still come back into power in the duchy. With their cousin William making noises of war in their direction and pressing ahead with his plans to claim England as his own, Simon could believe any number of machinations would move those out of favor back into favor and change the balance of power between Breton, Normandy and the other duchies and kingdoms.

  “Ladies such as she deserve poetry to woo her and to gain her love. Contracts and marriage will not do it,” Simon began. He might be known as a lover of women, but he’d never wooed one in his life—certainly not one so fair and so feminine. “She is so delicate, and I,” he said, “I am so…so…”

  “Worldly?” Soren asked, finishing Simon’s sentence but not with the word of his choosing. “Most women appreciate those years of experience in a man.” Soren laughed loudly and smacked Simon on his back. “Lady Alianor was heard to say just that on many occasions.”

  Simon wheeled around and walked away from his friends. Even knowing that too much wine and the festive, somewhat bawdy mood had loosened their tongues, Simon would probably punch one or all of them soon—and that would bring an end he did not want to their marriage feast. It would show Elise the very side of him he anguished over even now. So he grabbed a pitcher of wine from one of the servants and stalked off up the stairs to the top floor, where he could be alone and watch the hall from the balcony.

  By the time he reached the alcove above, a lovely widow had already approached Soren, clearly with hopes of a liaison for the coming night. Shaking his head over how easily the fairer sex fell over themselves at the feet of the “Beautiful Bastard,” Simon took a deep drink of the wine in his cup and swallowed it.

  “The lady is in love with you already, Simon. You have nothing to fear with her.” Giles reached his side and looked down over those gathered below them. “Take her gently, and all will be well between you.”

  He held out his empty cup and Simon filled it before his. “I have always favored my father’s family,” he offered. “We are not known fo
r our grace or small statures.”

  “Ah, but to have watched you fight with your sword in battle is to know the lie of those words. And small or large, it will all work out if you have but a care for the lady’s pleasure first.”

  Simon again drank down most of the wine in his cup before Giles pulled it from his grasp.

  “If you continue to drink at this rate, the only thing the fair Elise has to worry about is you falling asleep on top of her.” Giles eyed him once more. “Have you never taken a virgin before?”

  He said nothing, but that was answer enough for his knowing friend.

  “See to her pleasure first and then to your own. Once she has found hers, she will be more accepting of allowing you yours.” Giles drank the rest of his wine.

  It seemed like a sound plan, but the strength of Simon’s desire for Elise was there in his body already for his manhood rose hard against his breeches. Would he be able to maintain control of his passionate urges when presented with Elise, naked in his embrace, finally his alone to claim?

  Then, as though he had the ability to read another’s thoughts, Giles added, “You might want to seek relief before you approach your lady’s bed this evening.” Giles did not meet his gaze, but looked instead at those below.

  In spite of having not visited the fair Alianor’s bed since Elise’s arrival two months ago, somehow the thought of seeking another did not sit right on him, so Simon shrugged in reply.

  Giles reached out and smacked him heartily on his back. “Begin mayhap by settling her to your nearness and your touch? Surely you have kissed her? Touched her even? Pray tell me that you have managed at least that, in spite of her mother’s constant presence and ever-watchful eye.”

  Simon laughed aloud at that. “Her lady mother would do well as a jailer in Duke Conan’s prison tower. Nothing, I fear, gets past her steely gaze or biting tongue.”

  Giles laughed too and shook his head. “Now that she is yours, you must begin to claim her. Step-by-step, my lord, much as you train your horses.”

  Simon barely controlled his laugh at that one. Giles and the others, with their illegitimate status, had little need to use finesse and little opportunity to approach virginal ladies. Most wellborn ladies did not welcome their interest.

  “My friend, I would advise you never to let any woman, especially a lady, hear you compare her to a horse. You will find yourself without the warm welcome you so crave before you can blink your eyes.” Simon turned to the stairs and nodded. “Come. I think it is time to begin gentling my wife to my touch.”

  “Fear not, Simon. All will be well by morning. The lady truly wedded-and-bedded and you will be at ease.” Giles’ expression grew serious. “But just in case your way is not successful, I will place a book of poetry by your bed so that you can use it if needed. ’Twould seem that ladies do like the soft words and pledges of love.”

  Simon did smile then at his friend’s attempt to take his fears seriously. Agreeing with a nod, he made his way down the stone steps to seek out his wife. He had hours of feasting before nightfall and he was eager to begin wooing his wife.

  Chapter Two

  Lady Elise of Nantes watched as her husband and his friend left the rim of the balcony above and walked towards the stairway that led back to the main floor. The castle was appointed with several floors, bright and beautiful tapestries lining the walls around them, and a hall that could seat hundreds without crowding. All Simon’s possessions were grand, as befitted the very wealthy and powerful count of Rennes.

  All except her.

  Elise smoothed some imagined wrinkle from her gown and considered her good fortune yet again. Even without her mother’s urgings, it was difficult not to do so when faced with Simon’s beneficence. In simple words, she owed him everything.

  Her cousin leaned over and handed her a cup of wine and Elise took a small sip. Her mother’s mouth formed a tight line; Elise knew immediately that she disapproved. After seeing Simon’s warm gaze on her, she pulled some remnants of pride and bravery together and emptied the last of the wine into her mouth. If it burned a bit and hit her stomach with a thump, she would never say.

  “You will disgrace us, Elise, if you fall asleep or lose your composure in your marriage bed,” her mother whispered in a furious tone. “Cease drinking this instant.”

  Elise nearly dropped the cup at her mother’s order, but she did not. She was married now, married to Simon, Count of Rennes, and answered to no one else. Not her mother and certainly not her foolish father who’d endangered them all. Simon alone ruled her now. A shudder passed through her at the thought of what lay ahead of her this night and of the power one man now held over her.

  “My lady, surely a small cup of wine will but soothe her maidenly nerves,” her cousin Petronilla offered. Her mother’s frozen gaze made Petronilla cease her attempt to intercede.

  “There is no reason for nerves or hesitation, you silly girl. My daughter knows her place and her duty to the count, in his bed or out of it.” Lady Bertrade then lowered her voice so that only Elise could hear her words. “When you lie beneath him, fight naught that he does and acquiesce in all things. Let him have his way.”

  “Come, cousin,” Elise said as she stood. If she had to listen to one more of her mother’s audacious commands about the approaching night in her marriage bed, she was sure she would scream. “I need some cool air to refresh me.”

  Elise turned to leave, a brazen move on her part, but her mother grabbed her arm and pulled her close.

  “Remember, you will give him leave to do whatever he wishes with you. Refuse him nothing,” she whispered furiously.

  “I have heard your words, Mother. I understand,” she whispered back as she tugged her arm free. As bold as she may have sounded, the truth was that she knew not what to expect from her new husband.

  Her mother had issued those words of warning for months; as soon as the marriage contracts had been signed, she had begun her instructions to prepare Elise for marriage. All were the same and excluded details of what she should lie still through or what he would do that she must allow. Elise understood the basic process of marital relations with a man, but her mother’s words clearly hinted at things more dangerous or repulsive.

  Standing back, she took Petronilla’s hand, pulling her cousin to escape with her. She nearly ran as she sidestepped couples who were dancing and those just lounging around the hall, drinking and eating and celebrating her marriage to Lord Simon. Finally, they made their way out of the hall, through the corridors to the door that led to the courtyard. The air, fresh and cool as befitted a spring morning, greeted her as she stepped out of the door.

  “She means well,” Elise began to explain to her cousin, but the frown on Petronilla’s face stopped her from apologizing for her mother’s behavior again.

  “Lord Simon will not allow her to command you so, now that you are married,” Petronilla declared forthrightly.

  Elise nodded, not fully convinced that a simple marriage ceremony would bring her mother’s controlling ways to an end. But, if being Simon’s wife meant she would make her own decisions, she welcomed whatever must happen between them as a small price to pay.

  Petronilla took her hand and patted it. “Lord Simon will be a kind husband to you, Elise. Alianor said…” Her cousin paused, realizing her error and looked across the courtyard waiting for the awkward moment to end. “I cannot believe I said that to you, and on your wedding day. Pray thee, forgive me?”

  At first mortified that her cousin mentioned her husband’s leman, Elise then realized that she, Lady Alianor, was the one person who could answer her questions about what to expect in her marriage bed. Certainly she could not speak to the woman who, in spite of being the noble-born widow of one of Simon’s vassals, saw to her husband’s private needs. She needed someone else…someone like Petronilla.

  “There is no reason to apologize, Petronilla. My lord husband’s attentions to the lady are not a secret here.”

  “Still, E
lise, ’twas thoughtless of me to bring her to your attention.”

  Elise turned and took her cousin’s hand, tugging her closer. Looking around first, to make certain that no one could overhear her words, she said, “To gain my pardon, I seek a small service from you.”

  “What service, Elise?” Petronilla asked, her hesitancy obvious.

  “I wish you to speak of what Lady Alianor has told you about my husband.”

  Petronilla’s otherwise pale face blushed deep red as she sputtered and gasped at the request. So, Lady Alianor had shared many details with her sister-by-marriage about Lord Simon. Good. Mayhap Elise would learn much before being faced with the reality of her husband in their bed?

  “Nay, Elise! Alianor has told me nothing, truly, nothing.”

  “Petronilla, you are my friend. Would you send me forth to my husband’s bed knowing only what my mother has told me? That I should lie quietly and accept anything he does. That I must refuse him nothing. Not knowing what he will do to me is worse than any suffering I have faced.”

  “Still, Elise. You are a maiden. He expects you to know little of bedplay. He is a kind man…”

  Elise dropped her cousin’s hand and walked away. Failure to please Simon was not an option for her this night. She must be ready to be his wife, to keep him happy, so that he would never regret, or question for a moment, his decision to stand by their betrothal and marriage. How could she do that without knowing?

  And more than for those reasons, Elise had begun to fall in love with the kind man she met on her arrival. Every preparation for her comfort had been seen to and every request was fulfilled. He greeted her brother and assigned him to duties and training, taking over the responsibilities her father should have accepted. But mostly, although he appeared to be a large, gruff man, he was ever kind to her and solicitous of her feelings when they ate together or conversed. He tried to make her feel as though she was already the lady of his lands and, when he could circumvent her mother’s oversight, he’d even quietly offered his affections to her.