Chapter Twenty-five: Wives
Lady Adelaide had excused herself early from dinner, claiming illness as she had planned, and so was quite surprised to hear the knock on her door and the voice of one of Prince John's messengers on the other side. She exchanged a look with her maid, Mary, who then reminded the messenger that her lady had left dinner and was not feeling well.
"The prince is well aware of your lady's illness. He demands her presence in his chambers nonetheless. If she does not come with me forthwith, I am charged to gather an escort to convince her back to health."
The messenger's tone brooked no refusal and Adelaide sighed in irritation as she rose from her chair by the fire and made her way to the door followed by her maidservant. She opened the door and glared at the man, so secure in his position that he could give orders to nobles without looking uncomfortable. He bowed and gestured for her to follow him as he made his way to the prince's chambers.
At the prince's door, the messenger bowed again as he bade the women to enter.
Prince John sat, flanked on the right once again by Sir Guy of Gisbourne. A scribe sat at his left, parchment and ink ready. Adelaide stepped inside the door and curtsied low, her stomach doing flip-flops.
"Have a seat, My Dear." Prince John's voice dripped charm as he indicated the chair that had just been pulled forward by a servant.
Adelaide moved stiffly to the chair, feeling much like a lamb who knew it was about to be slaughtered, but for whom there was no escape. She could struggle and balk, but in the end, she was tied by her allegiance to the royal house. She sat, but refused to relax, instead perching on the edge of the seat as if she would run at the slightest provocation. Sir Guy was looking at her as though she were a prize mare at an auction, his steady gaze making her uncomfortable; Prince John just looked like he wanted to bed her then and there. Adelaide swallowed, trying desperately not to appear too frightened, as some men seemed to like it when a woman was frightened of them.
Guy watched Adelaide through hooded eyes, assessing her as a potential wife since the prince seemed to have it in his mind to see them joined. He could do worse, he conceded as he allowed his gaze to slide over her form. She was certainly not unattractive and would look a whole lot better once she was out of her mourning clothes and when she did not find herself so much in the sun. She was neither a frightened child like Marian, nor a rebellious young woman like Deirdre; despite looking both slightly frightened and slightly rebellious at the moment, Guy got the impression that she would do as she was commanded. Lady Adelaide was a woman, not a child, and had been married, so she was used to taking orders from a husband. She had wealth, and lands with a port access. The fact that she had borne no children to her husband was bothersome, but only slightly. Prince John said that she had been only fourteen when she was joined to Henry of Mablethorpe, a man thirty years her senior, and that he had left on crusade two years later.
Prince John allowed his gaze to slide between Sir Guy and Lady Adelaide. Henry of Mablethorpe had been a staunch supporter of the king, and since his lands were on the coast to the east, they represented a very strong holding. Having Henry's widow marry a man who supported him and not his brother suited the prince very well. Gisbourne had not seemed extraordinarily happy with the prince's decision to marry him to Lady Adelaide until the advantages had been explained to him. Now Gisbourne sat at ease in his chair, gazing at his soon-to-be fiancé calmly. Lady Adelaide, on the other hand, sat perched on the edge of her chair, obviously ill at ease. Prince John let her squirm for a bit longer, his fingers steepled with his chin resting on them, his gaze hot on her form. Ah, to have had the right of droit de seigneur on her first wedding night, he mused before shaking his head regretfully; he could not invoke the right now and keep Gisbourne's loyalty. He exhaled loudly before speaking.
"Let us get right to the point, shall we? You, Lady Adelaide, are nearly over your period of mourning and will need a husband to see to your lands…"
"My Lord Prince, I beg to differ. My lands have paid you more since the absence of Sir Henry than ever they did while under his care. I have proven that my steward and I can manage the lands quite well, I believe." Adelaide spoke quickly, unable to stop her tongue as her worst fears seemed to be coming true.
Prince John raised an angry eyebrow at the interruption, but chose to ignore it for the moment, choosing instead to cut off her tirade.
"Sir Guy is in need of a wife who can give lands and wealth back to his family name. On the first of January, you shall be wed. Since you have no living father to act for you, I shall act on your behalf. Am I not merciful?"
Gisbourne was the first to speak. "Thank you My Lord. You are indeed merciful."
Lady Adelaide was speechless, her mouth gaping open in astonishment. She lowered her head demurely and Gisbourne smiled. Here was a woman who knew how to behave properly, despite her earlier outburst. His smile wavered as she spoke again.
"My Lord, it is because you are so well known for your mercy that I feel I can ask you to reconsider. If it is land Lord Gisbourne needs, I would be happy to part with some. If it is wealth, I would give that as well. I only ask to not be married again so soon after Sir Henry's death. I do not wish to taint his memory."
Prince John's face hardened, as did his tone. "And that is why you shall have two months after the mourning period is over to prepare for your wedding. I will hear no more. You will stay here, both of you, until the day arrives. Once you are joined, you may go to Mablethorpe and acquaint your new husband with Henry's former lands. You are dismissed, Lady," the prince added as Lady Adelaide looked like she was going to continue to argue.
Lady Adelaide stood, curtsying stiffly to the prince and Gisbourne before turning to leave, her back ramrod straight.
"Well, Gisbourne, what do you think? Henry was gone for nine years of their marriage, and she's been in mourning for the last year. Lady Adelaide has had too many years without the firm hand of a husband to guide her, but I believe she will come back under control easily enough."
"I agree, My Lord. I will remind her of her manners." Lady Adelaide's rejection stung. Guy was tired of women snubbing him.
In her chambers, Adelaide threw herself onto her bed. As her maid stoked the fire, she could hear the sounds of her mistress weeping.
"Milady, surely it is not so bad…"
"Henry was a monster! I will not go through that again!"
"Perhaps this Guy of Gisbourne will be different," Mary reasoned.
"Ha!" Adelaide laughed mirthlessly. "Did you not see the way he looked at me like I was something to be purchased? I half expected him to get up and come over to look at my teeth!"
"All men are fools, it's true, Milady, but not all men are cruel."
"He is Prince John's man. Henry was a horrible man, but at least he knew who his king was!"
"My Lady! Please be careful. The walls have ears, you know." Mary looked around nervously as she said this.
"So what can Prince John do, eh? Kill me? Better death than marriage," Adelaide added glumly.
In Sherwood, Marian and Robin walked hand-in-hand, having delivered their load of food to one of the drop-off points. They loitered on their way back to the camp, taking a moment to spend some much sought-after alone time together.
"When do you think King Richard will return?" Marian asked. The sooner the king returned and put things to rights, the sooner she could go back to living in a manor, living a normal life, instead of all this running and hiding and living in the forest. She had not thought that living in the forest would bother her so much, but she missed the little luxuries of a home.
"It won't be this year if he hasn't made the channel crossing yet. Perhaps next summer," Robin answered matter-of-factly.
Robin knew Marian was not pleased with living in the forest, though she tried not to show it. Marian had always been a bit of a tomboy, but she still was used to certain comforts which were unavailable in Sherwood. The freedom to come and go as she pleased was the one loss which grated on her the most, but with the sheriff's men roaming the forest looking for them, they all had to let each other know where they were going and when they expected to be back. Winter would soon drive the soldiers back to Nottingham though, and the roads would be mostly free of travelers.
Unfortunately, winter also meant less food for people who were already barely surviving. Luckily, the gang were all good hunters, except for Deirdre, who was still a terrible shot with an arrow, and suddenly seemed to find every animal too cute and fuzzy to kill. The last time they had even brought home a dead rabbit, Allan's wife had cried for hours; now they cleaned the animals where they killed them, bringing home the bits and pieces, but never the whole animal with its fur and head still attached.
Thinking of Deirdre, Robin smiled. Other than a few quirks of her pregnancy, the former lady had adjusted well to life in the forest, never complaining or shirking her duties; if he were honest, he would say she had adjusted even better than Marian. Deirdre's visits to Madeline had taught her much herb-lore, and now not only was their food a bit tastier, but her knowledge supplemented Djaq's medical knowledge. Robin only hoped that Marian would adjust that quickly, although the best overall would be if she didn't have to, if instead, King Richard would return and pardon them all.
Marian squeezed his hand and smiled over at him, bringing him out of his reverie.
"Penny for your thoughts," she teased him.
"I haven't even a hapenny to my name anymore," he gave back, tickling her until she squealed, begging him to stop. He pulled her to him for a passionate kiss, holding her tight as she returned the kiss.
"You're still the lord of my heart though, Robin of Locksley, no matter our fortunes," Marian breathed when they came up for air for a moment.
Robin smiled as Marian removed his shirt, running her hands over his chest before pushing him to the forest floor and following after.
Deirdre was aggravated. She had been practicing for months with the bow; pregnancy, it seemed, had not improved her aim at all. Her belly got in the way of the bow, and standing for long periods was uncomfortable on her swollen ankles. Despite the coolness of the day, she had her hair up, although a wayward strand kept tickling her nose; every time she blew it out of the way, the blonde hair settled right back onto the bridge of her nose.
"Why don't you just leave it be?" Allan asked innocently. "Not everyone can be a marksman, you know."
"I have to get this, Allan! If I don't, how can I help you take out the sheriff's men?"
"You could try aimin' for their horses, that way you'll hit the soldiers for sure," he teased just as she let loose the arrow, completely missing the bag she had been aiming at that hung safely on a nearby limb.
"Allan A' Dale, I could just kill you!" she declared, throwing down the bow and launching herself at him.
"Aye, but you'll 'ave to catch me first!" He danced easily out of her reach and she collapsed in a heap, sobbing. Allan was immediately contrite.
"I'm sorry, Luv. I was only jokin'."
He moved closer and put his arm around her. Once he was holding her, Deirdre grabbed hold and pinched him—hard.
"Ow!"
"That's what you get for mocking the mother of your child."
"Aye, I should know by now that the mother of my son is a sneaky, mean woman. And I wouldn't have her any other way," he added, leaning in for a kiss.
"And she's fat, too," Deirdre pouted. Every time she had to let out her pants, she cried. She was certain that before long, Allan would wander away for a bit with a more acrobatic woman. She was certainly less athletic than she had been, and now it was uncomfortable whenever Allan was on top of her.
"Don't be daft! There's more of you to love right now, is all. Anyway, Madeline said you'll lose all the weight when the baby comes." Allan thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, especially now.
"So you asked her if I'll be skinny again?" Deirdre demanded, blowing at the hair again.
"Yeah. It seemed to bother you that you was puttin' on weight, so I asked."
Allan took hold of her chin and made her look up at him. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"
She shook her head and her brows lowered in exasperation as the lock of hair continued to tickle her. Allan noticed and pushed it behind her ear gently as he held her face in his hands.
"Your eyes are sparklin' blue, your nose is all freckles, your mouth is usually laughin'—mind, that is my second—or third—favorite thing you do with your mouth," he waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively, "and you are growin' my son in your belly. You're smart and sassy and stubborn enough to outlast an ass in a war of wills. On top of that, you're great with a sword, and a devious little thief to boot. I wouldn't marry just anyone, Deirdre, and I wouldn't want just anyone to be the mother of my kids. I love you. I loved you when I first laid eyes on you, I love you now," he laid a hand gently on her belly, "and I will love you always."
Deirdre had begun to cry and Allan leaned forward to kiss the tears away, sending little shivers up and down Deirdre's spine. She leaned into him as his kisses gradually became more urgent. Soon, their clothes were scattered over the forest floor, and Allan had lowered himself between her thighs. She felt his erection pushing against her entrance and sighed in irritation as his weight pressed down on her belly, which in turn pressed the baby onto her bladder and made her feel like she had to pee.
"Allan, get off. I can't. I'm sorry."
Allan rolled off of her regretfully and watched as she angrily crawled around, collecting their clothes. As he watched her bottom wiggle, he decided to try something. He grabbed her hips.
"Just a minute, Luv. 'old on, now. What say we try like you was thinkin' on our weddin' night."
Deirdre turned to look at him, a shirt in one hand, her other hand reaching for a pair of pants.
"What are you on about, Allan A' Dale?"
Allan pulled her closer, his hips grinding against her bottom; before she could protest, he was pushing up inside of her, answering her question with the action.
"Allan," she panted as he pushed deeper, "what are you doing?"
"You 'ave to ask, Luv?" He pulled slightly out of her and stroked deeply back in before answering her completely.
"You ain't comfortable with me on top o' you and you got no energy to be on top o' me. I figured we'd try this first before givin' up and me havin' to find a ledge to set you on every time. So, is this good so far?"
Deirdre pushed back against him and was satisfied to hear his breath hiss in between his teeth.
"It seems to be good so far," she managed as he pulled out and pushed back into her again, each inward stroke seeming somehow deeper than the last. She put her head down, pushing her hips up higher, and felt his fingers bite into her thighs as he continued his slow assault, filling her body with his length.
Allan closed his eyes as pleasure washed over him. With every stroke, he seemed to go deeper inside of her, and far from seeming uncomfortable, Deirdre rather seemed to be enjoying this position quite a bit. He began picking up the pace, going a little deeper, a little harder as he thrust into her. She welcomed him as he pushed into her, her warm channel opening wide to allow him access and squeezing him on the outward strokes, seeming to try to keep him inside of her. Deirdre cried out and Allan stopped immediately, afraid that he had done her harm.
"Are ye all right, Luv?"
"Lord, Allan, don't stop!"
Allan grinned and continued to thrust into her, grunting as she squeezed him tight, finding her release. Moments later, she shuddered around him again as he poured his seed into her. They both sat there for a moment, panting and trying to regain their breath before Allan reluctantly pulled out of her and collapsed on the ground, gathering her into his arms and kissing her soundly.
"Now do you believe you're still gorgeous?" he murmured against her lips as she snuggled contentedly against him.