Chapter 10

After three more hours - the sun was slowly wandering westerly while quenching the horizon into a bright orange light - their troop reached a small valley. Henry stopped his stallion, took in the old oaks that enframed rich green pastures and announced that they would set up their camp right here. While lifting Catherine from the saddle, he was already barking orders at his soldiers.
"Tomorrow, or latest the day after, we are going to reach the lands of Lord Bernard. There we will be able to spend the night in a decent bed. How does that sound?" he asked good-naturedly and winked at her.
"Heavenly," his Queen admitted, which prompted Henry to laugh and nod in agreement.

He waved Florence over to them and instructed the novice to join Catherine and to take care of her arm while waiting for the royal tent to be pitched.

Catherine, far too exhausted from the hardships of their ride, desisted pointing out to her husband that she was not a fragile plantlet, but an independent woman and the Queen of France. She simply lacked the energy for yet another confrontation. And if she was being honest to herself, his constant care may be annoying, but by now she believed that his concern was sincere. In addition, she did not want to risk the fragile ceasefire that prevailed between them since their last conversation.

So she swallowed her pride and let the novice lead her into the shade of an oak, where she sat down on the grass, leaning with her back against the tree trunk. She hungrily plucked a piece of bread and the cheese that Florence handed her and put them into her mouth.

Then she let the girl tamper with her arm and breathed out a sigh of relieve when Florence finally applied some of the pain-relieving ointment she had brought.

It wasn't long, before a soldier approached them to inform her that the royal tent was ready. Gratefully, the two women retired.

In the tent, Catherine dozed off on the uncomfortable cot for about an hour. When Henry arrived, she sleepily opened her eyes. With a mild smile on his lips, her husband kneeled down next to her and gently stroked a strand of hair out of her face.
"Dinner will be ready in about half an hour. There's a small stream a few hundred meters from here. Would you like to go there to freshen up or do you rather prefer I let someone bring you some water to wash up here?"
The idea of being able to wash off the sweat and dirt of their journey immediately awakened her spirits.
"I want to go there," she said and used the same calm and conciliatory tone that Henry had chosen.

Her husband mumbled his agreement and took off his vest.
"That's fine with me. Then come on, let's go." Surprised that Henry himself intended to accompany her, she hesitantly accepted the hand he offered her. It was warm, calloused and incredibly strong.

Silently, the couple set out to the stream, taking a short but rocky trail that led them to a small lowering. All the while Henry didn't let go of her hand for even one second.
Only when they arrived at the small stream, her husband released her fingers and to her surprise, he took not only his shirt off but also his boots. Then he jumped into the shallow water that splashed in all directions.
At that moment Catherine could do nothing but stare at her husband in amazement, who waded through the cool water with almost childlike joy on his face while holding out his hands towards her.
"Come on, Catherine," he tried to lure her in.

She hesitantly climbed onto one of the flat rocks and moved closer to the stream. Henry approached her with a broad grin on his handsome face. Whithout warning he grasped her waist and lifted her up, eliciting a startled cry from his wife's lips.
"Henry, I'm still wearing my shoes," she screamed, helplessly latching onto his neck with her right arm.
"Then I suggest you'd better take them off," was her husband's pragmatic answer while he tried to balance her weight on one arm and fished for her left shoe with the other. Clumsyly he took off her first, then her second shoe and threw them ashore. With greatest care Henry let Catherine slide down his arm until she was standing right in the middle of the creek.

Cool, crystal-clear water crept around her ankles and the hem of her dress was instantly soaked with water. Catherine hurried to lift up her skirts.
"Isn't this great?" Her husband asked mischievously and Catherine wondered when she had last seen him in such a carefree and easy mood.

Quite obviously the time he spent in the nature and among his men, far away from French court, had a positive effect on his temper. Henry seemed more relaxed and at peace with himself than ever before. Besides he looked devilishly good in his leather pants. His muscular body, the dark beard that was greying here and there and the mischievous gleam in his eyes added to that impression.

Catherine cautiously turned in the ankle-high water and her eyes followed her husband to where he was wading. Henry stopped at a shoal that partly protruded out of the water. There he kneeled down and started to clean his face and upper body.

Once he stood up again, water was trickling down his broad chest. Mesmerized by that sight, Catherine watched a particularly large drop running down his flat stomach in hypnotic slowness until it disappeared below the waistband of Henry's trousers. A lump was building in her throat that prompted her to swallow hard. She had forgotten how attractive her husband was, how well defined his muscles and how wide his shoulders were.

But she also noticed the angry wound on his shoulder she had detected the night before and intended to ask Florence to take a look at it later on.

"What are you waiting for? I thought you wanted to freshen up?" Henry looked at her and Catherine wondered if he had noticed her staring.

Being at a loss she looked at the skirts she was still holding with her good hand to prevent them from getting even wetter. Then she once again looked at her husband, in whose eyes realization flared up. Wordlessly he waded back to her. Apparently he had just remembered her handicap.

Once again Henry picked her up as if she weighted nothing and carried her over to one of the larger rocks on the other side of the creek that reached slightly into the water. He gently let his wife down and offered her his hand for assistance when she got on her knees to wash her face. The cool water felt heavenly against her heated skin.
When Catherine rose again, she felt that his gaze was still fixated on her, so she questioningly raised an eyebrow at him.

"I seem to have forgotten how much I enjoy just looking at you," Henry explained while shrugging his shoulders.
"So, are you done with staring at me?" she asked in a voice dripping with irony.
"No, I'll probably never be done with that. But I can continue later on." A big grin lay itself upon his face, a grin that made him look rather younger and incredibly mischievous.
Catherine shook her head in a mildly dispraising way and set out to cautiously climb down the ledge.

"I could carry you..." Henry offered with an innocent expression on his face that set her nerve endings on alert.
"You'd better do that, after all it's you who've carried me over here in the first place," she replied when she realized how difficult it was to find her footing on the uneven and slippery ground.
"But it'll cost you." Henry's grin became even wider with this announcement.
"What does it cost me?" Catherine asked full of suspicion while her husband slowly approached her with the elegance of a feline predator.
"You'll find out once we've reached the other bank."

Before she could protest, Henry already grabbed her and lifted her into his arms.
"And if I'm not willing to pay your price," she wanted to know and wondered if she was actually flirting with her husband.

He loosened his grip around her body for the fraction of a second so that she threatened to slip out of his arms and into the water, but then his grip tightened again.
"Henry!" Catherine complained, but her husband just grinned at her provocatively.
"Yes, my darling wife?"
"Don't you dare letting me drop into that water," she threatened with as much authority in voice as she could muster.
"It's your choice."
"All right, out with it. What will it cost me?"
"Nothing more than a kiss, Catherine."

The sparkle in his eyes reminded her of a young, still carefree Henry.
In the earlier years of their marriage he hadn't missed any opportunity to steal her kisses. Some days he had even lain in wait in a hallway she had to pass in order to demand toll in form of lip services.

"That's your price? A kiss?" It irritated her that her husband wanted to play games of this kind with her all of a sudden. After all, she was his wife, not one of his many mistresses. But here, far away from court, far away from women like Diane or Kenna, she was his only alternative.
"Exactly!"

Henry crossed the stream and climbed up the embankment with utmost caution, still holding his wife in his arms. Once he'd reached the pathway, he carefully let her down. His arms however didn't let go of her body just yet. She was sure that this was his way of reminding her of the fee she had to pay for his services.

Catherine sighed theatrically, then she resolutely grabbed his nape with her right hand and pulled his head down. More than willing and with a broad grin on his face, Henry allowed her to direct his face closer to her own. Once she could feel his hot breath against her lips, Henry grasped her chin and tenderly caressed her skin with his thumb.
Resigning to her fate, the Queen of France reduced the distance between them until Henry felt her lips brush against his mouth. The anticipation of what was about to come seized his body with a slight tremor.

But instead of kissing him, Catherine withdrew herself from him, teasingly moving out of his reach, a coquettish smile on her face. When she approached him a second time, Henry pulled her into his arms without further ado and pressed his burning lips possessively against hers.
It's been a long time since her husband had last kissed her the way he was kissing her now. Lovingly, with tender care and yet full of passion. A kiss that made her forget the here and now. It even made her forget the pain and throbbing in her arm that was constantly dominating her very being.
She lived, breathed and existed for this kiss only.

When Henry reluctantly released her at some point, Catherine's heart was wildly beating against her chest and she felt lightheaded.
A breathless "Oh my god!", slipped out of her mouth before she was able to call herself to order.

Encouraged by her words and her lack of resistance, Henry pulled her so close that not even a sheet would have fitted between their bodies. With a gentle yet possessive gesture Henry caressed her rear and kissed her a second time. This time their kiss lasted even longer and it's intensity made Catherine's knees go weak.

Sounds of levity that were coming for the upper end of the path made the couple jump apart. Above the creek Catherine spotted a handful of soldiers that were on their way down to the stream. Probably they also wanted to wash away the strenuousness of the day.
"Let's head back," Henry said in a hoarse voice that resonated with pent-up passion. His Queen nodded in agreement but then she realized that they were both barefoot and Henry without his shirt.

"Our things," she reminded her husband, who hadn't even noticed that he wasn't wearing his shoes.
"You wait here, I'll be right back." Henry instructed her, then he stole one last kiss and hurried down the embankment to collect their cloth.
As soon as he returned, they quickly dressed and walked back to the camp, her right hand resting in his.

They've kissed! Finally. I hope you like this chapter. I at least loved writing it.

Thank you so much for your reviews. Honestly, they mean the world to me.