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He gave a rebellious slant to his head. “Everyone here wants a show,” he replied with shameless candor. “Then I shall give them one.”

His leather breeches were shoved down and removed with surprising speed, leaving himabundantlynaked and on display.

I had never seen a man fully unclothed, but I looked my fill now.

Shocked whispers rolled through the audience. Several gentlemen tried to cover the eyes of the ladies nearest them, but thewomen evaded their efforts, determined to gawk unreservedly at this man who was so different from every other man in our orbit.

He lacked all modesty as he placed his breeches in his sword maiden’s waiting hands. Not a stitch of clothing covered him. Only a necklace touched his skin. A black opal, gleaming dark as the night sky, threaded with green and red and blue. I had never seen the like.

My mouth dried, then watered. Those legs, thickly muscled, were even more impressive without the snug leather encasing them. Tree trunks.

I was too curious not to lookthere.And why not?

No one could seewhereI was looking. The wordcockfloated on the air.

My gaze dipped as though commanded. Oh.Ohhh.

The titillated whispers instantly made sense. He was big everywhere. Stirringly daunting. I wet my lips in trepidation... and something else. Something that ignited a winding flame through me, quickening in my belly.

I had spent enough time in the stables with the horses. I had even spied on a stable lad and a kitchen maid in an empty stall once. I hadn’t planned to do it. It just happened. I heard them. Uncertain of the noise, I investigated, peering through the cracks between the slats of a neighboring stall. I watched the lad’s bare buttocks flex as he pumped between a pair of plump thighs. They’d both uttered heated words that stung my cheeks, and I was left with the impression that copulation, at least for some, was not an altogether dreadful thing.

I understood how fornication worked. At least the mechanics of it. The desire, however, the physical stirring, had eluded me. Perhaps not anymore, however, if the butterflies in my stomach served any indication.

Although desire clearly did not afflict him now.

Well-endowed though he was, he was not in a state of arousal. I grimaced. Evidently a shrouded, shapeless sack of a figure on a bed and a roomful of voyeurs did nothing for his passions. It wasa grim realization. He did not want to be doing this. But he would. He would do his duty. Dark amusement twisted through me. It was the theme of my life, and I guessed we would have that in common.

He placed one knee on the bed, the mattress sinking slightly beneath his not-inconsiderable body. His hands followed, bearing his weight. First one, then the next, moving, climbing up the bed.

My chest squeezed tight. Too tight for my fluttering heart. That pull at the center was back again, tugging insistently, pulling me toward some unknown fate. I scampered to the side of the bed, avoiding contact with him. It was regrettable and silly. The moment I moved, I knew that. Self-preservation, however, was its own mistress.

He could not be avoided.

Thiscould not be avoided. Lodestones, I thought again, feeling a little dizzy.

He turned around on the bed, reaching to close the curtains and grant us a semblance of privacy.

“My lord.” The priest spoke up, a touch of urgency to his voice. “If you please, leave the drapes—”

“I do not please,” he growled. “I’ve enjoyed enough of your customs for the day. Now it is my turn.Ishall bed my wife without spectators. That is my custom.”

I shifted uneasily, panicked at the thought of him bedding me in the privacy of this curtained bed. Would he remove my veil then, away from prying eyes and without anyone to object? I pushed up on the bed a fraction, craning my neck, searching desperately for the queen, hoping for a glimpse of her that might give me some direction. Her voice resounded through my mind:Do not let him see your face until the deed is done.And yet what if he insisted? What if he overpowered me?

“This is highly irregular, my lord,” the king broke in, placing a reassuring hand on his lady queen’s arm. “How can we be certain you will consummate the union? That you will not remove our daughter’s veil?”

“You may be certain, Your Majesty. I shall do my duty and notdisturb the princess’s veil in the process. It’s not her face that matters here, after all. Is it?”

I flinched at that, but he was correct, of course. My face meant nothing.Imeant nothing. It was only my body that mattered.

A bubble of mirthless laughter welled up in my throat. If only he could remember his words when I later revealed my face to him.

Lord Dryhten’s words seemed to satisfy the king. He exchanged looks with the queen and the lord regent and then nodded his blessing.

Without waiting for further comment, my husband yanked the drapes closed, sealing us inside for the night.

9

Tamsyn