Tallie's Knight Part 15

"Very well, it is delicious. I do feel better."

He nodded.

"Food is the best thing after a bout of seasickness. Will you have the eggs now?"

Tallie glanced at the orange yolks and shuddered.

"No, I thank you. I will be content with these rolls and some more of this lovely coffee.

It is different from English coffee, is it not? And then I would like to wash and to change my clothes. "

"Make haste, then, for we do not stay the night here," said Magnus.

Tallie looked up in surprise.

"We made good time in the ship," he said, 'but it will not be long before this town is as crowded as Dover was. I have every intention of beginning the journey to Paris as soon as possible and avoid the inconvenience of over-full inns. " He added, " We shall stop in Boulogne, which is some hours' travel from here. I understand there are several decent inns where we can repose ourselves for the night. "

Tallie nodded and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Very well. I shall postpone my bath until just before I retire for the night."

Magnus met her eyes in an oddly searing glance for a moment, then stared at his plate, "John Black is, at this minute, arranging transportation with the postmaster. We shall depart as soon as he has hired a post-chaise and four."

The trip along the post-road from Calais to Boulogne delighted Tallie, the faint aroma of onions that lingered in the hired vehicle notwithstanding.

"One would think that farms would be farms and fields the same the world over, but it is not so at all, is it?" she commented to Magnus.

"Even the people in France look different."

He nodded, never having given the matter any thought. He'd decided not to ride, the horses for hire being decidedly inferior in his opinion, so he was sprawled lazily in the corner of the chaise, observing his bride's fascination with the pa.s.sing scenery. Her ability to be pleased by the smallest things struck him again, and it occurred to him that, had he wed one of Laet.i.tia's collection, he would, no doubt, be having to exert himself to entertain her. Tallie was young, he realised, but she had never yet bored him as Laet.i.tia's friends had.

The late afternoon sun was sparkling on the Channel when they reached Boulogne. They found the inn the landlord of the Lion d'Argent had recommended. Magnus engaged a suite of rooms, bespoke an early supper, then went for a stroll while a bonne ushered Tallie up to a large chamber and then went to arrange for her bath to be drawn.

Tallie explored. Her chamber was s.p.a.cious, with a small dressing room attached. It was comfortable, rather than elegant, and contained an enormous bed with a heavenly feather mattress. On top of the bed were several quite peculiar pillows--long, round and narrow--more like bolsters than pillows. She wondered if Magnus's bed had proper pillows and decided, if it did, she would borrow one of his.

Connecting doors led to a private parlour and a narrow balcony overlooked the sea. Tallie pa.s.sed several enjoyable minutes observing the scenery until the bonne returned with a pile of soft towels.

Behind her trooped footmen, carrying an enamelled hip bath and numerous buckets of steaming hot water.

Tallie bounced into the wonderfully soft bed and snuggled down under the thick down quilt that the inn provided instead of blankets. It was very light, and quite insubstantial compared with the thick woollen bedclothes she was used to, but it seemed warm enough.

Her first day in France. It had been very exciting, for Magnus had taken her for a stroll through the town before they had sat down to an utterly delicious supper. She had heard about French cooking, and now she knew! Even quite ordinary vegetables took on a new splendour in the hands of a French cook, with delectable subtle sauces and interesting combinations. And the variety of dishes. wonderful.

Tallie sighed in pleasure and leaned over to blow out her bedside candle. Before she could do so, however, she heard a knock on the door. She sat up in bed, clutching the down quilt to her chest.

"Who...? ET ... qui est-ce?" -she called hesitantly."It is I," said the deep voice of her husband."C.-come in."Magnus entered, shutting and locking the door behind him. Tallie pulled the quilt more tightly around her."Was there something you wanted, my lor--er, Magnus?"He looked down at her enigmatically for a moment."This is my room, too."Tallie blinked."But there's only one bed."He smiled slowly."I know.""But...""We are married, Tallie. Married couples share a bed."Tallie's mouth opened in surprise. It wasn't true. Her cousin Laet.i.tia had her own bed, and most of her married visitors had separate chambers, too--Tallie knew because she'd been the one who had usually arranged the accommodation for guests. The only time they ever shared a bedchamber was when there were too many people for separate ones. Maybe this inn was crowded too.

"Oh," she said, and swallowed.

"I'll disrobe in here, shall I?" Magnus entered the small dressing room, pulling the door after him.

Tallie sat in the bed, wondering what to do. There was a look in his eye that she had seen before--in the coach in Dover, when he had kissed her in that extraordinary way.

She'd thought about the kiss a lot since it had happened. She knew people didn't usually kiss like that, with their tongue inside your mouth, and wondered if that was how a man put a baby inside a woman.

Amanda Forrest had said her mother said it happened when a man put himself inside a woman, and he had certainly put himself inside her then. She shivered deliciously, remembering the bold sweep of his tongue over hers.

Did she have a baby inside her yet? Probably not, after all that vomiting on the ship, so perhaps he was going to kiss her in that special way again. She wouldn't mind it at all. It had been quite wonderful. She hadn't felt the need to flinch or anything, as her cousin had said she would.

The dressing room door opened and Magnus emerged, dressed in a heavily embroidered dark silk dressing gown, tied at the waist with a sash. He walked over to the bed and smiled.

"Move over," he said softly, and with a small, nervous smile Tallie wriggled over to her side of the bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and slowly undid the sash, watching her all the time. He peeled off the dressing gown and Tallie gasped and averted her eyes.

He was naked! Completely naked. No nightshirt at all!

He stood and, naked, walked a few steps to a chair, over which he neatly draped his dressing gown. Tallie shot a quick, furtive glance at him. She had never seen a naked man before. Aside from the powerful muscles across his shoulders and back, and the long, hairy limbs, men weren't all that different from women, she decided. They were just bigger and stronger and hairier. Then he turned, and Tallie's eyes almost popped out of her head. There was something very different about men. and her husband looked nothing like little Georgie in the bath!

Tallie suddenly realised he'd caught her peeking, and she hurriedly turned her head away, closing her eyes for good measure. He laughed, and said, "It's all right to look, you know."

Tallie didn't reply. She lay down in the bed, her eyes shut tight, and felt the bed sag as he climbed into it. His body was very close to hers--she could feel the warmth radiating from him, even though he was naked and should be cold.

"Will you blow out the candle, please?" she said after a moment.

"Not yet," said a deep voice beside her ear.

"I think it's my turn to look, don't you?"

Tallie's eyes flew open and she clutched the comforter to her chin.

"Y ... your turn?" she quavered.

"My turn," he confirmed.

"It's what married people do." He reached out, gently tugged the comforter from her nerveless grasp and pushed it down to her lap. Slowly he began to unb.u.t.ton her nightgown. one b.u.t.ton. two. three. until it was undone almost to her waist. She was shaking by the time he'd finished and her eyes were screwed shut.

"Don't be frightened," he said softly, and began to stroke her cheek.

He moved closer, and she could feel the solid heat of his body lying all along hers. He bent over her and kissed her lightly on the mouth, then kissed her again, moving his lips softly over her, small, tiny kisses, feathering them over her mouth, her eyelids, her cheeks.

Tallie relaxed a little.

His hands caressed her, stroking her cheek, her throat, down her arms, then back up to her throat. He touched her b.r.e.a.s.t.s through the cotton of her nightgown, moving back and forth in the softest, lightest touch. Tallie felt a faint quiver pa.s.s through her every time he did so. He kissed her deeply, then touched his tongue to the hollow at the base of her throat and kissed her again. Slowly, slowly the kisses moved lower, and she felt the faint abrasion of his chin as he nudged her nightgown apart.

She felt the moist, warm trail of his kisses down in the valley between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, then his hand slipped in and eased her gown aside. He sat up on one elbow for a moment, staring.

"Beautiful."

Tallie's eyes opened for a fleeting, stunned glance. Beautiful? He thought her beautiful?

He cupped first one breast then the other, in a warm, strong hand, then rubbed his thumbs gently back and forth across their tips. Tallie felt them harden, and shivers of pleasure coursed through her. She watched, trembling, as his dark head bent and he suddenly buried his face in her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and made a low, deep sound in his throat. She had never before felt so close to another human being. She wanted to put her arms around him, to cradle his head against her. Her hands rose, hovered, and then dropped uncertainly.

"Let's get rid of this thing," he said, sitting up. He reached under the bedclothes, took the hem of her nightgown and began to pull it upwards, over her legs.

Tallie tried to stop him.

"I ... no... But it's cold ... and this comforter is extremely light."

"I'll keep you warm." He tugged at the hem.

"Lift your bottom."

Mindful of her wedding vows, Tallie obeyed, and in seconds she was lying in bed with her husband, not a st.i.tch of clothing between them.

He pulled the comforter down and gazed at her body with possessive, heavy-lidded grey eyes which seemed to burn into her skin. Tallie tried to shield herself from his stare, but he lifted her hands away, saying, "I am your husband, Tallie. You don't have to hide yourself from me."

He lowered his mouth to her breast again, and Tallie almost leapt out of her skin as red-hot spears of pleasure pierced her. He muttered inaudibly, caressing her with hands, mouth and tongue. Sensations spiralled through her and she found herself shuddering convulsively.

What magic was he performing to make her feel this way? She wanted to take his head in her hands and press him tighter against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, wanted to touch him as he was touching her. She pressed a small, shy kiss on his hair instead.

He caressed her softly, tenderly, and so slowly. It was. lovely. At one point he slowed, and seemed to hesitate, and Tallie opened her eyes. He, too, had his eyes closed. He was breathing heavily and gritting his teeth. She wondered for a fleeting second if he was in pain. But she soon forgot that thought because--ohhh. The feeling of his warm strong hands caressing, smoothing, shaping her body, learning it. She knew now why some people called this possessing--Magnus was possessing her. And it was wonderful.

She tentatively laid her hands on his shoulders and, light as thistledown, stroked his skin. He felt warm, slightly damp with sweat, and very, very good. His skin smelt of the cologne water he usually wore, and some darker, musky scent that she knew was him. He didn't react, didn't tell her to stop. Feeling braver, Tallie stroked the wide muscular shoulders and the crisp dark hair on his arms, exulting in the feel of his strength. Such a powerful man, and yet so tender with it.

He rubbed his hands down over her stomach and hips, and the slightly roughened skin of his palms set up a delicious friction on her soft skin, then dipped between her thighs. Quivers ran through her, and without conscious volition her legs fell open. He cupped her between her legs and began small circular motions that soon had her gasping with excitement. She felt his fingers moving intimately in the folds of her flesh, and she parted her legs further, writhing in pleasure at the sensations coursing through her body.

Groaning, he pushed her legs wider and settled himself between them, his hands stroking, caressing, probing and teasing, his mouth hot and hard on hers. She felt something hard and blunt nudging her between her legs, and she stiffened.

He paused, looking deep into her eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you, but the first time, I fear, it is inevitable."

Suddenly Tallie recalled her cousin's instructions. She closed her eyes and grabbed the bottom sheet tight in her fists. He pushed, and she wanted to wriggle away, but she remembered the bit about not flinching and braced herself instead. He pushed harder, groaning, and Tallie gasped. She wondered if it was hurting him as much as it was hurting her, and then she stopped wondering as a sharp pain lanced through her and she forced herself to remain motionless.

He hesitated.

"It's done now," he murmured, and caressed her cheek for a second. Tallie, panting, was relieved, and waited for him to remove himself, and the thing that was stretching her and stinging so dreadfully. Instead he started to move inside her, moving back and forth, slowly at first and then faster and faster. His mouth came back over hers, and she realised his tongue was moving at the same pace, creating those amazing sensations in her again.

She was not hurting so much now, but still an unbearable feeling of tightness was growing inside her, until she thought she must burst.

She wanted to writhe and squirm and scratch, but she knew she could not move, nor flinch or cry out or otherwise disgrace herself. Or him.

This was her husband, and she was now truly his wife, and this was what husbands did to get their wives with child. But, oh--she wanted to take hold of him and hold herself hard against him while he was doing this to her. But she couldn't.

She loved him, she realised suddenly. Against all her expectations she'd fallen in love with this cold, kind, abrupt, gentle man. She wanted to cry out and cover his face with kisses, but she owed it to him to lie here without flinching, without crying out.

He mightn't love her, but she wanted him to be proud of her. His movements built to a rapid crescendo, and she found herself panting shallowly in time with them, feeling as though something was about to happen. as though she was being swept away by some tide. She forced herself to lie still. Finally, with a loud, unintelligible groan, her husband gave one last heavy thrust, arching his body over her, his head thrown back in pain--or exultation--she wasn't sure which-and subsided heavily on top of her. They lay, unmoving, panting, their bodies beginning to cool.

He was still inside her, she could feel him, though it was not so uncomfortable now. He lay heavily on top of her and she could hardly breathe, but Tallie decided she liked the feeling of being surrounded by his strength and his warmth. His head was buried in the hollow of her throat. Tentatively she lifted her hand and stroked the short crisp curls on his head. They were damp. She trailed her fingers down the side of his neck and across his shoulders. His skin was moist and warm. He sighed and shuddered under her hand, and then moved away from her. She felt his withdrawal and felt a momentary sense of loss. The candle was still burning, and she felt him watching her in the nickering golden light.

He smoothed back a damp curl from her face.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly.

She couldn't look at him, felt too full of emotion, so she just nodded.

He slipped out of bed and disappeared into the dressing room. She watched him leave and felt like bursting into tears. He was going to dress and return to his own room.

He came back, still naked, carrying a cloth. She wanted to look at him properly, to see exactly how he was made and how it all worked now that she knew how he felt. But she was too shy to do more than cast a quick flicker in his direction, then look away.

He came back to the bed and reached for her thighs.

"Again?" Tallie jumped, disconcerted.

He smiled ruefully.

"No, not tonight."

She sat back, relieved, then stiffened in shock as he parted her thighs and began to wipe her with a damp cloth. She was sticky and sore there, but for him to be doing such a thing! Her face burned with embarra.s.sment and she tried to stop him, but he took no notice.

Finally he finished, and stood up. She glanced at the cloth and saw to her amazement that there were streaks of red on it.

Emmaline Pearce had been right, thought Tallie as her husband moved around inside the dressing room. All those punishments from Miss Fisher for telling lies--and Emmaline had been right all along. There was blood, and there certainly could have been screaming had Laet.i.tia not warned her it was not allowed.

Magnus returned and slipped into bed beside her, pulling the cover up around them both.

"And now we sleep," he said, blowing out the candle and turning on his side. He pulled her against him, holding her around the waist.

Despite her recent experience, and the knowledge that she loved him, Tallie still felt odd, being naked in bed with him-with all that bare skin.

"Shouldn't I put on my nightgown?"

He pulled her tighter against him and stroked a hand up over her hip, briefly cupping her breast.

"You won't get cold," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

"Now hush, and try to sleep."

Tallie closed her eyes, and soon she heard the slow, deep breathing that told her Magnus was asleep. She sighed, feeling unaccountably miserable all of a sudden. A slow, solitary tear slipped down her cheek, then another.

Chapter Nine.

Six months? " Tallie's voice rose with surprise.