The Merchant of Dreams (Night's Masque, #2)(132)

"He may be gone all day," Mal said. "Let us get on with it."

"Ah, the anxious bridegroom," Berowne said with a chuckle. "Afraid you'll change your mind if we don't get it over with?"

"Not at all," Mal said, and smiled down at Coby.

"Well, then, you have your witnesses. Make your vows."

Mal cleared his throat, then took Coby's hands in his. "Jacomina Hendricksdochter, do you marry me?"

"Yes." Her voice came out as a nervous squeak. She coughed. "Yes, I do."

"And I, Maliverny Catlyn, do marry thee."

"And I, Sir Geoffrey Berowne, bear witness to this contract, according to the ancient laws of England."

"And I, Gabriel Parrish."

"And I, Edmund Faulkner."

Mal shook hands with each of the men in turn, and they each kissed Coby on the mouth, Gabriel with a whispered "God bless you both" and Ned with another of his insufferable grins.

"Is that it?" Coby asked.

"One last thing." Raleigh appeared in the doorway. "Can't have a wedding without a ring, eh, Catlyn?"

He held out a small velvet pouch, and Mal took it from him. Mal's eyes widened as he loosened the strings and shook out the contents into his palm.

"You had it made smaller," he said, holding up the signet ring. "How did you even get hold of it?"

Raleigh nodded towards Ned, who looked sheepish.

"You stole it?"

"Borrowed," Ned replied. "It was Raleigh's idea."

"Since the mistress of the house seems so fond of wearing breeches," Raleigh said, "I thought she might as well be entrusted with the family seal also."

"I see."

"Well then, put it on her, man. I didn't spend half the morning running around Venice for naught."

Coby held out her hand, and Mal slipped the heavy gold ring onto her finger. She gazed down at it wonderingly.

"This is too fine a gift, sir…"

"Nonsense. You are the mistress of my household now, as well as of my heart." He kissed her. "And perhaps one day soon, the mistress of Rushdale Hall."

Sir Geoffrey insisted that they use his guest bedchamber for their wedding night, and sent Raleigh up to the attic. To Mal's surprise the captain did so with good grace, shaking Mal by the hand and congratulating him on making an honest woman out of her at last. Mal was not so sure; the new Coby was a mystery to him, an old friend turned stranger. It was none of her doing, but he felt strangely awkward now in her presence when he had never done so before. He prayed his nervousness would not entirely unman him tonight.

At last all their friends had bade them good night, and they were left alone together in the shadowy bedchamber. Coby fussed with the bed hangings, turned the counterpane back and plumped the bolsters. She seemed unable to meet his eye. He drew a deep breath. He was the master of the household, at least within this room; it was up to him to take charge of the situation.

He closed the space between them and put his arms around her waist.

"I have waited too long for this," he murmured in her ear.

She made a small frightened sound in her throat.

"Ssh, my sweet, I would never hurt you, you know that." He let her go, and began unbuttoning his doublet.

"Here, let me," she murmured. "That's one part I do know how to do."

She undid the rest of the buttons and helped him out of the doublet, then folded it and placed it over the back of a chair. He kicked off his shoes and unfastened his slops, and soon was down to shirt and drawers.

"Now you," he said.

She let him unlace the back of her gown, and he drew it over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Her chemise was cut longer than his and fuller, only hinting at the shape of her body beneath. He drew her close and kissed her. After a moment she returned his kiss with some of her former passion, and his prick stirred in anticipation. Best to take this slowly. He took her hand and led her to the bed.

"I believe," she said shakily, "that it is customary for the husband to… to uncover his wife's nakedness."

"So it is."

She pulled on the drawstring at her throat and loosened the neck of her chemise. Gently he pushed it over her shoulders so that it slid to the floor. He smiled. She was still wearing her linen drawers, like a boy. He unfastened his own shirt and pulled it over his head, then dropped his own drawers and stepped out of them. She swallowed hard, then did the same. In the candlelight the planes of her slender body reminded him of an alabaster saint, beautiful and vulnerable. It was some moments before he remembered to breathe.

Tearing his gaze away he threw back the bed-linens and lay down, inviting her to join him. After a moment she did so, her eyes never leaving his.

"Wh… What do we do next?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"Well, yes, but…" She sighed. "I have never done it myself. You must teach me."

He smiled. "It's not so different from fighting. Once you know the moves, it will all come as natural as breathing."

He reached out his hand and took hers, kissing the back, then the palm, then working his way up to her shoulder. That gave him an excuse to shuffle closer, until there was barely a finger's length between them. Or the length of another member. He took her hand and guided it down between them. Her eyes widened.