her.
He’d gathered her up like the frightened child she was, and taken her into his enormous bed –
which she was surprised to find later was still too small for him – and held her until she was more able to come to grips with what had happened.
She wished he had explained to her what was going to happen. It might have helped, although she wasn’t sure that she would have believed him. It was something so – so different that it had to be experienced, and even now, looking back at it, she almost thought it was some sort of dream, until her body reminded her, throbbed and ached and almost began to clench again, on its own, completely without his touch
She would never have thought that her body was capable of something that extraordinary.
No one had ever told her. Certainly not her father, and she doubt even her mother, if she had lived.
Amber hated to admit it as she turned and thrashed on her little bed, but she hoped he came home.
Soon.
When he did, it was with news that the King would be visiting soon, so everything needed to be spit shined and polished to within an inch of its life. He arrived with only a small entourage, most of his men having stayed behind to come home in a few days. Piers slid down from Tygan and crossed the courtyard to the gardens immediately, grabbing Amber from her duties and pulling her up the stairs to his chamber, consigning anyone who might gossip about them to the devil.
He charged his manservant, Archibald, with bringing him a tub full of fresh bathwater by the fire. Amber sat on the edge of the bed while he downed a glass of wine and watched her ravenously, as a stream of servants paraded in and out of the room with buckets full of water to fill the small, barely man sized tub with steaming water.
“Shall I stay and assist you with your bath, Sir?” Archie asked.
“No, thank you, you may go,” Piers dismissed him with a wave, and Archie left discreetly.
He descended into that water like he’d dipped into his first woman so many years ago, slowly, savoring it every inch of the way. He’d always adored water, any way he could get into it. He’d driven his mother crazy, swimming in lakes and ponds when she thought it would kill him dead. His entire family had a complete aversion to bathing, and their annual bath had to suffice. He bathed as often as he could, which wasn’t nearly as often as he liked, although he had no aversions whatsoever to taking dips in the clear, cold streams or lakes hereabouts. They were absolutely beautiful.
Piers looked out through the steam at Amber, who sat nervously perched on the side of his bed, and wondered if she swam. Probably not.
“Come here, my flower.” He let his outstretched arm drip onto the cold floor.
She did so, if a bit reluctantly for his tastes.
Piers handed her a bar of soap and a cloth, then said, “Tell me, Amber, do you swim?” Her face lit up, and he was once again enchanted by this woman. “I do! My mum used to hate that I loved to do it, and I used to get into terrible trouble, but there was a beautiful lake by the house . . . “she stopped speaking suddenly, looking down at the contents of her hands.
Piers had already lain back and closed his eyes, in anticipation of a lovely bath. “What is it?” He opened on eye in time to see her brush a tear away and begin bathing him. But he caught her hand and repeated his question in a warning tone.
“I just – I just miss my – miss my family.”
“I’m sorry, Amber. I’ll see what I can do about arranging a trip for you to see them.
Would you like that?”
She brightened up so much that he wished thought of it sooner. “Yes, please, Sir!”
“They’re not far from where the new castle’s being built, right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
She wasn’t washing him, in her enthusiasm about the trip, so he brought her hand to his chest in a hint, and watched her turn several shades of red, having forgotten the reality of what it was he was expecting her to do
He’d gathered her up like the frightened child she was, and taken her into his enormous bed –
which she was surprised to find later was still too small for him – and held her until she was more able to come to grips with what had happened.
She wished he had explained to her what was going to happen. It might have helped, although she wasn’t sure that she would have believed him. It was something so – so different that it had to be experienced, and even now, looking back at it, she almost thought it was some sort of dream, until her body reminded her, throbbed and ached and almost began to clench again, on its own, completely without his touch
She would never have thought that her body was capable of something that extraordinary.
No one had ever told her. Certainly not her father, and she doubt even her mother, if she had lived.
Amber hated to admit it as she turned and thrashed on her little bed, but she hoped he came home.
Soon.
When he did, it was with news that the King would be visiting soon, so everything needed to be spit shined and polished to within an inch of its life. He arrived with only a small entourage, most of his men having stayed behind to come home in a few days. Piers slid down from Tygan and crossed the courtyard to the gardens immediately, grabbing Amber from her duties and pulling her up the stairs to his chamber, consigning anyone who might gossip about them to the devil.
He charged his manservant, Archibald, with bringing him a tub full of fresh bathwater by the fire. Amber sat on the edge of the bed while he downed a glass of wine and watched her ravenously, as a stream of servants paraded in and out of the room with buckets full of water to fill the small, barely man sized tub with steaming water.
“Shall I stay and assist you with your bath, Sir?” Archie asked.
“No, thank you, you may go,” Piers dismissed him with a wave, and Archie left discreetly.
He descended into that water like he’d dipped into his first woman so many years ago, slowly, savoring it every inch of the way. He’d always adored water, any way he could get into it. He’d driven his mother crazy, swimming in lakes and ponds when she thought it would kill him dead. His entire family had a complete aversion to bathing, and their annual bath had to suffice. He bathed as often as he could, which wasn’t nearly as often as he liked, although he had no aversions whatsoever to taking dips in the clear, cold streams or lakes hereabouts. They were absolutely beautiful.
Piers looked out through the steam at Amber, who sat nervously perched on the side of his bed, and wondered if she swam. Probably not.
“Come here, my flower.” He let his outstretched arm drip onto the cold floor.
She did so, if a bit reluctantly for his tastes.
Piers handed her a bar of soap and a cloth, then said, “Tell me, Amber, do you swim?” Her face lit up, and he was once again enchanted by this woman. “I do! My mum used to hate that I loved to do it, and I used to get into terrible trouble, but there was a beautiful lake by the house . . . “she stopped speaking suddenly, looking down at the contents of her hands.
Piers had already lain back and closed his eyes, in anticipation of a lovely bath. “What is it?” He opened on eye in time to see her brush a tear away and begin bathing him. But he caught her hand and repeated his question in a warning tone.
“I just – I just miss my – miss my family.”
“I’m sorry, Amber. I’ll see what I can do about arranging a trip for you to see them.
Would you like that?”
She brightened up so much that he wished thought of it sooner. “Yes, please, Sir!”
“They’re not far from where the new castle’s being built, right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
She wasn’t washing him, in her enthusiasm about the trip, so he brought her hand to his chest in a hint, and watched her turn several shades of red, having forgotten the reality of what it was he was expecting her to do
Similar Books
