Willa moaned and shifted fretfully in her sleep, and Hugh was positive her discomfort must be due to her restrictive clothing. She would be more comfortable nak*d, he decided, his gaze moving over the soft mounds of her br**sts hidden by the garment. Hugh licked his lips. Aye, definitely more comfortable out of the gown.
Ignoring the pain any movement caused in his backside, he shifted closer to her, eased onto his side and set to work at her lacings. Willa stirred as he worked but didn't wake until he was struggling to remove her gown. Blinking her eyes open, she muttered irritably and tried to brush his hand away. "What are you doing?"
"I am trying to undress you."
She came fully awake, her expression uncertain. "Did you wish to consummate again?"
"Nay. Of course not. You need your rest. I just thought you would be more comfortable unclothed. Sit up," he instructed.
Willa sat up and raised her arms dutifully as he lifted her gown over her head.
"We have to see you better dressed. A countess should wear jewels and fine silks."
"Silks," Willa repeated sleepily as he thrust the gown aside. She sank back on the bed, a frown coming to her face as she realized she was completely nak*d. "Where are the bed linens?"
"On the floor."
"Oh." She hesitated, then shrugged and turned on her side, apparently too tired to bother fetching them. The cold had knocked him out much the same way, Hugh recalled. The poultice Eada had placed on his backside had fallen off. He found it on the bed, lay down and slapped it in the general vicinity of the pain.
Willa murmured sleepily and shifted beside him. Hugh glanced over to see that she was asleep again. As he watched, she coughed in her sleep, sniffled, then rolled onto her back, her arm landing by her head. Hugh found his gaze going over her body. He suspected she would not be so open to his view again for a while. She'd been nak*d last night, but tense and stiff. Now she was relaxed and soft-looking, her br**sts rising and falling with each breath. Rising and falling. Rising and falling.
Hugh licked his lips as he watched. Her br**sts looked terribly lickable. Easing sideways until his arm brushed her side, he eyed her face, then leaned forward to lick one roseate nipple. It immediately sprang to life under the caress, standing at attention. Of course, one lick wasn't enough and he leaned down for another.
Willa shifted, arching upward into the caress and Hugh smiled as he suckled her breast. This was encouraging. He trailed a hand over her ribs, then across her belly, rubbing gently. She writhed and twitched at his touch. He let his hand drop to her hip, cupping the soft flesh there, and pressing against the bone. Willa twisted under his touch, murmuring incoherently as she pressed her h*ps upward under his hand. This was more movement and sound than he'd managed to elicit from her despite his best efforts last night.
"Damn," Hugh breathed against her wet nipple. Obviously, he hadn't relaxed her enough last night. She was responding now and murmuring incoherently, if not babbling. He let his hand slide between her legs and pressed against her as she gasped and arched into his palm.
It was the gasp that did it. The action ended in a coughing fit that brought her awake. Willa sat up abruptly, shuddering as her body was wracked by the deep cough.
Hugh released her nipple just in time to get out of the way. He removed his hand from between her legs and pounded her back, ignoring the pain the action caused in his behind. It was a bad fit. Willa wasn't able to catch her breath for some time. Concern and guilt filled Hugh as he tried to help her through it. If he hadn't been touching her while she slept, he was sure she wouldn't have coughed. It ended finally, and she dropped back weakly in bed.
Hugh promptly eased out of bed to fetch the linens and some furs. He covered Willa, then rolled several spare furs and arranged them behind her back, lifting her upright.
She murmured her gratitude, then sniffled miserably. Hugh tried not to wince with guilt. He was fully erect again and hoped she hadn't noticed. He would never bother her while she was ill. Well, alright, so he had, but he wouldn't again.
Chapter Thirteen
Willa did not feel at all well. She felt sure she was dying. Her husband had killed her with a cold. And why had Eada not foreseen this?
The man slumbering in bed beside her rumbled in his sleep as he shifted about. He was lying nak*d, with not even the linens on him, while she was buried under a mountain of furs and still freezing.
Pig, she thought with annoyance. He'd made her sick and now slept like the dead while her coughing had awoken her and would not let her rest. Her gaze dropped to his bare buttocks. The poultice had fallen off and now lay on the edge of the bed. Stupid man, how would he heal if he did not keep the poultice on? Willa pushed the furs aside and leaned over to snatch up the poultice. She slapped it back on his rear end.
The action had a most satisfying effect on Hugh. Even as Willa dropped back beneath the furs, his snores ended and he reared up on the bed with a bellowed, "Yow!"
"Bad dream, my lord?" she asked innocently as his bleary eyes found her.
Grunting, Hugh dropped back onto his stomach. Willa glared at him, then forced a smile when he glanced her way. He frowned. "You should be sleeping."
"Aye. I should," she agreed dutifully.
"Why are you not?"
"I cannot sleep. I do not feel well and I am cold."
Hugh's forehead wrinkled as he pondered her words, then he reached out one arm, hooked it around her waist and dragged her to his side. The next thing Willa knew, she was tucked up half beneath him with his leg cast over both of hers. He tugged the furs up to her neck and settled his arm on top of them so that it lay in front of her face.
"Your poultice," she squeaked against his forearm.
" 'Tis dried out now," he said on a yawn. Then he settled his head on her breast and brushed it back and forth atop the furs. He settled with a satisfied sigh.
Willa lay completely still, realizing he planned to warm her with his own body heat. He was warm, she realized as some of the chill left her. She relaxed a bit and peered at his face. His eyes were closed again, but she didn't think he slept.
"Thank you." She smiled shyly when he opened one eye to check on her.
"No thanks are needed. You are my wife. 'Tis my job to warm you when you are cold. 'Tis my job to give you what you need. Do you need for anything, you must ask me." His eyes closed again, and Willa made a face at him. His words had somehow belittled his action. She lay still for a moment, then asked, "Lord Hillcrest was truly your uncle?"
Hugh blinked his eyes open, looking vaguely surprised at the question. "Aye."
He closed his eyes again, and Willa glanced over his arm at the room around them. No, there was nothing to entertain her there. She peered back at his face. "I do not recall that you ever visited us either here or at Claymorgan."
He opened his eyes again, but this time annoyance was the overriding expression on his face. "Nay."
"Why?"
He shifted, his leg moving restlessly across hers. "My uncle never really encouraged visitors. In fact, more often than not he discouraged it."
"That would be my fault," Willa said unhappily. "He was probably trying to protect me, as usual. Lord Wynekyn was the only visitor he allowed."
She saw Hugh scowl and turned her face away with remorse. He caught her chin and turned it back. " 'Twas not your fault. My father and uncle had a falling out," he said firmly, then released her chin again and closed his eyes once more.
"What sort of falling out?" Willa asked.
Hugh frowned but didn't open his eyes this time. He merely said, "You are ill and should rest."
"I am bored and you did say that 'twas your duty to supply whatever I need," she wheedled. "I need information... to reassure me that I was not at fault for your not being able to visit Papa."
That brought his eyes open. "Was he your father?"
Willa flushed. "Nay. He said not, but I thought of him so. He was the only father I knew."
Hugh nodded slowly, then said, "You were not at fault. I do not think you were even born when they had their falling out. I was only nine or so at the time."
"What happened?"
For a moment she thought he would not answer, then he heaved a long-suffering sigh and explained, "My father was the second son. He use to run Claymorgan for Uncle Richard, but they argued over how he should run it. My father decided he would strike out and make his fortune as a knight. He failed. Sleep."
Willa blinked at the abrupt order at the end of the short explanation. He'd closed his eyes again. She glared at him briefly, then dragged one hand out from under the furs to poke his arm. "What happened then?" she asked the moment his eyes opened again.
"When?"
"Well, after you left Claymorgan?"
"I told you, my father tried to make his fortune as a knight. He failed."
"Why?"
He looked unhappy, then said, "He was a fine warrior, perhaps the best of his time, but he had spent too many years running Claymorgan. He was used to luxuries a knight cannot afford."
"Well, what of you?"
"What of me?"
"Where were you and - Do you have any brothers and sisters?" Good Lord, she couldn't believe she'd neglected to ask such things ere this.
"Nay. I was an only child. Mother called me her miracle child. She was with child many times, but I was the first and last to survive birth."
Willa accepted his words with a nod, then asked, "Well, where were you and your mother while your father was trying to earn his fortune as a knight?"
"We traveled with him."
Willa wasn't fooled by his matter-of-fact tone of voice. She knew it must have been a hard, lonely life. "Where are your mother and father now?"
"Dead." The word was hollow. "My father died while I was fostering. Mother followed shortly after."
"Then you are alone, like me."
Hugh glanced at her sharply, but merely nodded. "Aye."
"Except, of course, for Jollivet and Lucan," she added and watched the grimace that flashed across her husband's face. She'd noticed that he seemed to react so every time his cousin was mentioned.
"Aye, well, Jollivet is the son of my father's sister. His mother was a lady-in-waiting to the queen. He has spent a great deal of time in London and around court since earning his spurs. Much to his detriment," he added under his breath.
"And Lucan?" Willa asked, her lips twitching at his comment. "He seems a very good friend to you."
"He is. We fostered together. He is like a brother to me. We both had poor prospects while growing up. He is a second son. I was the first born of a second son. If Uncle Richard had had children..." He shrugged and fell silent.
"I am sorry you did not get to know Lord Hillcrest better. I know you are angry that he made you marry me, but he was a good man."
Hugh was silent for so long, Willa thought he wasn't going to respond. Then he said solemnly, "Aye. He was a good man. I did not think that he knew where I was or what I was doing, but the day I earned my spurs, a messenger arrived leading the most beautiful horse I have ever seen. The stallion bore the finest chain mail and sword that I could have dreamed of. There was a letter with it. He had been following my progress. I had done him proud. This was his gift to me."
Willa felt tears fill her eyes. "Aye. That sounds like Papa. He was terribly kind. He must have loved you a great deal."
"Aye." Hugh looked uncomfortable; then his expression became stern. "Now sleep."
He closed his eyes again. Willa considered asking another question; there were quite a few things she would like to know about him, but she'd already made him speak more in the past few moments than he had in all the days that she'd known him. She didn't wish to push her luck. Besides, she would no doubt have a couple of days to get those answers from him. She also was growing weary again.
Yawning, she noted Hugh's deep breathing. He appeared to have fallen back to sleep. However, he was not snoring anymore. Willa watched him sleep, her eyes growing weary and beginning to droop. Then she shifted to a more comfortable position and slid a hand out to move his arm lower. Though she enjoyed the warmth of his body, his arm felt like a great felled tree across her chest. The weight made it even harder to breathe than the stuffiness of her cold.
Hugh murmured in his sleep and tightened his hold on her waist. He pulled her even closer until her left breast was pressed against him. Willa peered at her husband's face in repose. He did not look nearly so fearsome in sleep. His face was almost endearing like this. Not that he wasn't attractive when he was awake, but it was a harsh handsomeness then. Dark and stern. Well, all right, grumpy. He looked young and sweet in sleep.
Smiling, she cuddled closer and shut her eyes to allow sleep to claim her.
"I am ill! You should let me win," Willa exclaimed as Hugh called check.
"Ha!" He laughed up at her from where he lay on his belly, surveying the chessboard. "You win often enough on your own without my letting you win. Who taught you to play?"
"Uncle." She grinned, pleased that he had noticed her skill. "I have beaten Baldulf, Howel and my uncle over the years. I like to win."
"Aye." His gaze became considering. "You have a competitive nature."
Willa opened her mouth to deny it, but then closed it. She wasn't sure why the description bothered her. It simply did not seem an admirable quality in a woman and the description sat awkwardly on her shoulders. Willa hadn't been raised to be competitive. She'd been raised to do as she was told. Knowing that those around her risked their lives to guard and care for her, she'd been as well-behaved and obedient as was possible.
"Tell me about your childhood," Hugh said suddenly and Willa glanced at him with amusement.
"I have already told you about my childhood, at length," she said. And it was true. They had spent the past three days getting to know each other as they recovered. Eada, Lucan and Gawain had been their only visitors. Eada checked on them twice a day, changing Hugh's poultice and dosing them both with various vile tasting herbs meant to help them heal. Gawain delivered the food, tasting it before Willa was allowed to eat. And Lucan had kindly stepped in to act as intermediary between Hugh and his responsibilities as lord while he was mending. He delivered messages from Howel and anyone else who wished his counsel, then carried away Hugh's decisions with him.