smile.
He lifted a hand to her face. Eleanor nuzzled into Matheus âs touch as he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, tracing the delicate contours. There was a slight tre m ble to his touch. There was a sh ared connection. At that moment, Eleanor knew that Matheus understood as well as she the weight of the arrangement thrust upon them and the sacrifice they had been forced to make.
Shaking his head, he exhaled with a heavy sigh. Pulling at his lip he looked at her with an expression of pity as he struggled to speak. âWhat the â¦who â¦who the hell has marked you so? Did they beat you to this extent just to force your betrothal to me? â
Eleanor turned her head away from him.
His finger s gently pulled upon her chin, t urning her face back to his. âEleanor, answer me. â His eyes were searching hers for answers. The taut muscles in his arm flexed. The muscle in his jaw ticked once more.
There is a reason they call you bull , for you are reining in a furious temper , my Lord.
Eleanor replied calmly, âWill you upend me across your knee my Lord, if I don ât tell you? Threatening to punish me as a child for disobeying your word. â
The tear that wended its way down her cheek betrayed her impassive expression. Letting go of her hand. Matheus lent forward and raised his. Eleanor gasped and brought her hand to her face, cowering and she let out a sharp scream.
âFor the love of God, woman, what do you think I am? I have told you I won ât strike you. Please Eleanor, do not fear me. I was going to wipe your tears. â Matheus raked his r a ven hair. He opened his mouth to speak. Shaking his head, he raised his hand instead and said, âMy lady , I will take my leave of you as my presence offends you so. I will see you as our Grace the King has decreed to take you to my home the week before our nuptials. And Eleanor, no man or woman will beat you again . You are betrothed to me. I will not have it. â
Smiling, Eleanor leant forward inviting his touch. His hand hesitantly brushed her face. She did not flinch. She let him softly stroke the back of his hand gently down her cheek, spreading his thumb to catch her tears. Eleanor a c cepting the gift for what it was, an intimacy of kindness that encouraged his affection, and nuzzled his hand delicately back.
âMy future bride will not be marked ever again. If an y one dare say you are to be whipped, warn them â¦if they strike you it is as if they strike me â¦I am the Lincoln Bull and mighty vengeful. â
Chapter 4
âYou missed a great night of whoring and ale , Matheus â¦wooo h, how did you get that lip ? Fighting were you? I suppose fighting may be as much fun as whoring. Not that anything is better than Matilda, her breasts , oh for sure, they are â â
Interrupting, Matheus raised his hand and looking at his friend, he chuckled. âEnough , Richard, we all know Mati l da âs charms of which there are undoubtedly many. â His smile changed to an embarrassed grimace. He was unco m fortable. It was not easy for a man , let alone a knight to say he had been set upon by a woman. Not just any woman, his betrothed. He sighed. âMy lip was Eleanor âs doing. â
â Passionate little filly is she? â Richard smirked.
âNot quite â¦it was not a love nibble, she bit me. Then she slapped me with as much force as the master of arms. â
âJesus, a match for Godwin , eh? â Richard exclaimed, laughing loudly. Holding his stomach as his belly ached with the thought of Matheus âs favourite nephew and knight of the King. The Earl, the Bull of Lincoln , beaten by a mere wo m an and an untried maid at that.
âAnd what did you do , Matheus? O ffer to hold her purse? â Tears were rolling down Richard âs che eks. â Please, pray this is jest. I cannot believe that a weak and feeble maiden has bit you, the Bull, and not
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley