The Dragon Lord's Daughters. Bertrice SmallЧитать онлайн книгу.
her with emphasis. Then covering her body with his, and feeling his lust beginning to rage, he thrust into her, sighing gustily as she received him, wrapping her legs about his waist. Soon she was crying out to him with pleasure, and for the first time in a very long while Merin Pendragon felt like the inexhaustible youth he had once been. He groaned as her body shuddered with her pleasure not once, but twice. And at that second burst of satisfaction he loosed his own juices with a howl of gratification, finally falling away from Gorawen, his breath coming in quick pants.
They lay together recovering from the bout of Eros that had surprised even Gorawen. The plums were more successful than she had anticipated. At last recovered she said, “Now I will ask a favor of you, my lord.”
He laughed aloud. “And I will grant it you, sweeting, as you have pleasured me mightily this night. What is it you will have of me?”
“I want you to find a husband for Averil. She will be fifteen at the end of the month. It is past time she was matched, wedded and bedded,” Gorawen said.
“I have been thinking on it,” he said. “For both Maia and Averil.”
“Maia is your legitimate daughter, but she is the younger, my lord. She will be easier to match, but she should not be wed before her elder sister. If they had not all been raised together without prejudice in your hall it might be a different thing. But you have treated all your children, both licit and illicit, in the same loving and kindly manner,” Gorawen pointed out.
“Ahh,” he said, “I see the difficulty here, sweeting. It takes time to make the kind of match that must be made for Maia, and if much more time passes, Averil will be considered too long in the tooth.”
“Aye, she will. My lord, she is the most beautiful of your daughters. Use that beauty for a good match. Then the match you can make for Maia will be even better than you might have hoped for as she is the legitimate daughter. And little Junia will have an opportunity she might not if her sisters are married well, and better.”
“A clever wench,” he repeated for the third time that evening. “But who?”
“You have said you would follow the example of our prince and seek among the Marcher lords for sons-in-law. This may also prove useful when Brynn is of an age to take a wife. I know that the prince hopes to rid himself of this English king who is his overlord, but I wonder if that will ever happen. And we who live here in Wales must think of ourselves, and our children, first. What are the politics of great men to us?”
Merin Pendragon nodded. “You reason well, sweeting, though you be but a woman. The more we ally our family to the families of the Marcher lords the better off it will be for us. I will do as you have asked me, and find a husband for Averil first, but I will tell Argel of my decision before I do. She is my wife, and as loyal to me as are you.”
“Of course you must speak with Argel, my lord! She is mistress in this house, and I respect her as I do you,” Gorawen said sweetly. She lifted the plate of sweetmeats from the table by the bed. “Will you have another, my love?”
“Aye, I will!” he said smiling at her. “I vow, Gorawen, no one, not even my dear Argel, pleases me, or treats me as you do.” He ate three more of the plum delicacies.
“I have been happier with you than with anyone else,” Gorawen told him honestly.
He smiled warmly at her. Soon his lust was afire once more to his surprise, and he was putting her beneath him once again, and satisfying their shared desires with the enthusiasm of a man thirty years younger.
When afterwards he slept, replete with his pleasure, Gorawen arose, and took the plate of sweetmeats away. There was but one left upon the plate, but she did not want him to have it lest he associate the wine-soaked plums with his lust for her this night. It was the first time she had used such means to arouse him, and she was quite surprised by the success she had had. But he was content with her, and his own performance tonight. She smiled wickedly. He would not have the same success with Ysbail. The other concubine would have to suck his cock to a stand to bring them both any pleasure at all, and it would be quick. As for Argel, she no longer cared if her husband visited her bed. But because of this night Gorawen’s daughter would be matched first. Merin would explain it all to Argel, and Argel would not argue. She never did.
Now Gorawen began to wonder who Averil’s husband would be. There were several fine families among the Marcher lords who would do. A younger son? A favorite son born on the wrong side of the blanket? Gorawen considered what kind of dower Merin would provide for his eldest child. There would have to be just enough cattle, and sheep, to add to Averil’s beauty to make her most desirable. Since she was favored by her father, the manner of her birth would not matter. But Gorawen knew she had extracted all she dared from Merin this night. Now let him make good on his promise, and then she would haggle with him over their daughter’s dower.
The next afternoon she took Averil into her herb garden ostensibly to teach her of things she must know, but also to tell her daughter of her small success with Merin Pendragon. “You may not tell anyone of what I have said to you,” Gorawen warned Averil. “Your father has given me his pledge, and he will keep his word.”
“Who do you think it will be, Mother?” Averil asked, excited.
Gorawen shook her head. “I have no idea, but you may trust your father will do his best by you. It will surely be a son from one of the Marcher families, for the Pendragon interests lie with them if we are to continue to survive.”
“Maia said I should be given to an elderly merchant that father is indebted to, or perhaps some simple knight,” Averil said, “but I know that will not be. The better my match, the better Maia’s match will be.”
“Aye.” Gorawen nodded. Then she said, “Now, here is a secret remedy I shall teach you, daughter, so that if you desire to prevent conception of a child, you can.”
“The priest says it is a woman’s sole function to bear new life,” Averil replied.
“The priest is an old fool and should know better since he and his hearth mate have birthed nine younglings they could not feed were it not for your da. Surely he has had some pleasure of his mate other than just children.” Gorawen laughed knowingly.
“Teach me all you know, Mother,” Averil said eagerly. “Some say you are a witch with all your knowledge of herbs and potions. I would learn all you are willing to share with me.”
“Humph!” Gorawen sniffed. “Fools! I gained my wisdom in my father’s house at my grandmother’s knee. She thought that because I had no dower it might be an advantage to me wherever life would lead me. And it certainly has been.” She bent her head and pointed.
“The seeds from the wild carrot, mashed into a paste and formed into a pellet that can be taken each day will prevent conception, Averil. It is not wise for a woman to have babies too quickly. Two years between each child is healthy.”
“Why did you have no more children, Mother?” Averil asked.
“If I had borne a son before Argel it would have made all our lives difficult,” Gorawen explained. “And your father did not need more daughters. Three was enough.”
“You prevented Ysbail from having other children, didn’t you?” Averil said with great certainty.
Gorawen smiled, but neither did she confirm or deny her daughter’s suspicions. “Here, this is sparagus. The best stalks are those with their heads turned downward towards the earth. They have two uses. Alleviating constipation, or stimulating romantic relations. You must add a little seasoning to them after boiling or they can cause the fibers of the stomach to be damaged. A pinch of salt is enough.”
“Its uses are quite varied,” Averil noted.
Gorawen laughed. “Yes,” she agreed, “they are.”
“How does it affect romantic relations?” Averil asked.
“You boil the stalks until they are just tender, with the salt, and then you serve them in a dish