Chapter Eleven
Nicholaa awakened to the sound of a waterfall thundering in her ear. It took her a long time to realize what the noise was, and she didn't have any idea at all until she tried to move.
She felt Royce then. His arm was wrapped around her waist. They both slept on their sides. She was in front, with her backside snuggled up against his groin. The noise was her husband's snoring.
Her feet were tucked between his legs. She slowly edged away from him and was about to roll onto her stomach when he tightened his hold and pulled her back up against him.
The movement almost killed her. Her head felt as though it might split in half. She went completely still. Her stomach immediately calmed down. Her mind didn't. Dear God, what had happened last night? She couldn't remember.
She'd slept with her husband. That was the only fact she was certain of. She had no idea what else had happened.
Had she gotten him sotted or had she gotten herself sotted instead? Nicholaa closed her eyes. It was too much to think about with her head pounding. Perhaps if she went back to sleep for just a little longer, she'd feel refreshed enough to remember.
Royce awakened just a few minutes later. Morning light filtered through the window he'd left uncovered. He lifted his head to look at his wife. Her eyes were closed. He thought she might be pretending sleep just to avoid him.
He gently nudged her. She groaned. "Nicholaa?" He whispered her name. She reacted as though he'd roared it. Her hand flew up to cover her ear.
"Are you still sleepy?" he asked. He rolled her onto her back and leaned over her.
The movement made her want to gag. She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him. Her first thought was that he didn't look ill. Nay, he appeared fit. Happy, too. A lock of hair had fallen over his forehead, giving him a boyish look. If she'd had the strength, she would have eased his hair back where it belonged. The man didn't need much sleep, she supposed. His eyes were filled with laughter, and he seemed ready to take on the world.
He thought she looked like hell. Her eyes were so bloodshot it hurt to look at them. Her complexion was greenish. The aftereffects of too much ale, he decided. His wife was going to suffer this morning.
She fell asleep again while he stared at her. He leaned down and kissed her brow, then rolled onto his side to get out of bed. The movement woke her up. She grabbed hold of the covers to keep herself from shaking.
He noticed that action. "Aren't you feeling well Nicholaa?" he asked.
If he didn't quit shouting, she was going to die. "I'm fine," she whispered.
He laughed. His wife sounded as if she were being strangled.
The man was a morning talker. She vowed to work on that flaw. Royce kept up a steady one-sided conversation while he dressed. God, he was cheerful. She wished she could put a gag in his mouth. It was a mean thought, she knew, but she didn't much care.
Royce shouted his farewell, then deliberately slammed the door. He wasn't finished with his cruelty, though. He caught Clarise at the bottom of the steps and told her to bring a trencher of food to his wife's chamber.
Ten minutes later, when Clarise presented the meal to her mistress, Nicholaa literally bolted from the bed. She made it to the chamber pot without a second to spare.
It took her all morning to regain her strength. By nooning she was feeling better. She finally got dressed in a green bliaut, but she changed when Clarise mentioned the color matched her complexion. The royal blue gown was much better, or so the servant decreed.
Her hair hurt too much to let Clarise braid it. Nicholaa gritted her teeth while the servant brushed the tangles away, then used a blue ribbon to secure it behind her neck.
"Are you going to tell me what happened last night?" Clarise asked.
"I don't know what happened last night," Nicholaa whispered.
"You were stark naked when you got out of his bed this morn, milady. Something happened."
"Oh, God, I was naked, wasn't I? Clarise, I don't remember last night. What am I going to do?"
The servant shrugged. "You'll have to ask him what happened, but first you need to take a nice stroll outside. The fresh air will clear your head."
"Yes, I'll go outside. Then maybe my head will clear and I'll remember."
Clarise nodded. "Milady, you aren't feeling a little tenderness?"
"My head's feeling tender."
"That wasn't my meaning," Clarise said. She handed Nicholaa her cloak.
"What was your meaning?" Nicholaa asked.
"Never you mind," the servant countered. "Get your fresh air. It will all come back to you eventually."
Nicholaa hoped the servant was right. She wanted to remember what she'd told Royce. More, she wanted to remember what had taken place in the bedchamber.
The cold air did clear her thoughts. She felt much better, but she still didn't remember anything.
She intercepted her husband as he was returning to the courtyard from the lower bailey. She hurried over to him. "Royce? I would like to ask you about last night."
"Yes?"
She moved closer to him so she wouldn't be overheard, then lowered her gaze. "Did you have a little too much ale?"
"No."
"I did."
He put his thumb under her chin and tilted her face up. "Yes, you did."
He looked serious, but not angry. "I don't remember what happened," she whispered. "What did I do?"
"You talked."
"And what did you do?"
"I listened."
She let him see her displeasure. "Please don't make this difficult for me. Tell me what I said. I would like to remember."
He decided to make her wait. "We will discuss this tonight," he announced. He tried to walk away from her.
She grabbed hold of his arm. "Please," she whispered. "Answer just one question now."
He turned back to her. "All right," he agreed. "What is it you wish to know?"
She couldn't look at him when she asked her question. "Did I please you last night?"
The shyness in her voice, added to the blush on her cheeks, told him exactly what she was asking him. She wanted to know if she'd pleased him in bed. He clasped his hands behind his back and waited for her to look up at him. When she finally did, he shook his head. "Not particularly," he announced.
She looked devastated. "I'm sorry if I disappointed you," she whispered. "It's usually a little… awkward the first time, isn't it?"
"No." His voice turned hard. "It should have been easy for you."
She let out a gasp. The man was heartless. Her eyes filled with tears. "I wasn't experienced, Royce," she muttered.
"No, it was obvious to me you had no experience." he countered.
"And that displeased you?"
"Of course," he drawled out. "Nicholaa, telling me the truth should never be awkward, with or without experience."
Her eyes widened. Dear God, they weren't even talking about the same issue. She was acutely relieved. The feeling didn't last long. Royce smiled. She decided then that he'd deliberately misled her.
"I wasn't talking about telling the truth," she muttered.
"I know."
He was a cruel-hearted man. She decided she was finished with the conversation and turned to leave. He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to turn around. "As I said before, wife, we will discuss this tonight." She was still frowning at him when suddenly he pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. Several soldiers were strolling past, but she forgot all about her audience when Royce deepened the kiss. She was enjoying herself too much to care about anything but kissing him back.
He finally pulled away. "I like the way you respond to me," he murmured.
She melted against him. "Thank you. I'm happy I please you."
He smiled against the top of her head. "Tomorrow I'll go and get Justin and Ulric. Does that please you?"