Chapter 5

It rained more often than not, and our nightly stops were a welcome relief from the cold drizzle. Twice I managed to trade a deer I’d killed for our room and board for the night, saving valuable coins.

Our last night out, the tavern only had one room available. In spite of the women’s insistence, John, Humfrey, and I spent the night in the stable. I was quite surprised to wake up the next morning sandwiched between the soft, warm bodies of Anne and Susan. Anne mumbled in protest when I carefully removed my hand from her firm breast. I’d gotten into the habit of sleeping snuggled against Margaret’s backside with her breast in my hand and had evidently done the same thing to Anne in my sleep.

“Don’t,” she complained sleepily, pulling my hand back to her breast. When I removed it anyway, she rolled over facing me. “I liked your hand there,” she whispered.

“My wife likes my hand there, too, and will be the only woman who gets to enjoy the feeling,” I explained quietly. “Besides, I thought you were happy that I didn’t expect you to have sex with me,” I reminded her.

“That was before I got to know you. Now I hope you will let me be a consort,” she offered.

“But why?” I replied.

“You’re handsome, thoughtful, caring, and earned the title of Duke at only sixteen years of age. It will be very prestigious to be your consort. Even my mother agrees,” she added.

“Your mother knows you’re here?” I gasped.

“Of course, she thinks I would be a very lucky woman to be your consort.”

Surprised to think her mother would condone such a relationship for her daughter, I decided it was time to get up. After a quick breakfast, we were on the road again. Rather than taking a chance to let Anne continue the conversation of this morning, I rode my horse and let Wendy drive the wagon while everyone else continued making bowstrings. I had trouble all day trying to push the memory of the sight and feel of Anne’s breasts from my mind.

As dusk approached, we were close to Lancaster and pushed on through dinnertime, arriving at the Manor House near bedtime. One of the Manor’s grooms came out to answer the guard’s call as our wagons rolled into the courtyard. Leaving him to tend to the wagons and horses, we took the bags of gold, jewels, and coins inside.

My mother heard us enter and hurried over to hug me. “We heard that you had captured all the remaining Barons and took them to London,” she exclaimed.

“And I am now the Duke of York and of Lancaster,” I replied.

I introduced my stunned mother to our guests, and she insisted on getting them dinner. With a mischievous look in her eyes, she turned to me. “My Lord’s bedroom is the first room on the left at the top of the stairs. Your son and his three mothers are up there,” she chuckled. Seeing the confusion on my face, she clarified her statement. “Margaret, Abby, and Gemma hover over him all day. I swear Abby and Gemma would nurse him if they could,” she sighed dramatically.

I bounded up the stairs, excited at the thought of seeing Margaret and John. Moans and sighs caught my attention as the door swung silently inward and I stood, frozen in the doorway, unable to believe the tableau playing out before me. The baby was nursing from Margaret’s swollen breasts. Abby and Gemma were both involved with each other.

I started to back out of the room, realizing that I shouldn’t be there watching two naked women besides my wife, especially since one of them was my sister. Unfortunately, my sword caught the doorframe and Margaret heard it. “Mike!” she gasped, the surprised look on her face probably a copy of the one on my face.

“Sorry ... I uuuuuhhhhh...” I stammered as I backed out of the room.

“Mike, wait, please,” Margaret cried out quietly. I could hear the tears in her voice, so I waited just outside the door. “Mike, wait, please,” she cried again. The baby started crying when she jumped up and he lost his meal. I heard quick whisperings of conversation between the girls while Margaret threw on a robe.

She was surprised to find me waiting just outside the door, practically running me over as she rushed to catch up with me. She grabbed me, desperately, and buried her face against me and sobbed. She was surprised when I pulled her face up and kissed her, hugging her to me. “You ... you’re not angry?” she stammered.

“Surprised, yes, angry, no,” I answered. “I haven’t been here much lately, and you are a woman full of passion,” I reminded her.

I balked when she started to pull me back into the room. “Shouldn’t you let Abby and Gemma dress first?” I reminded her.

She looked quickly into the room. “They’re covered,” she said, pulling me into the room again. Both girls were sitting up in the bed with the covers pulled up to their chin, watching me nervously.

Margaret made sure to bolt the door this time, and then led me over to sit next to her on the bed. Taking a squalling John back from Gemma, she let the top of her robe fall open. I watched, captivated, as John greedily found a breast and latched on, suckling happily.

“Are you sure you’re not upset?” Margaret asked, watching my face for any change of expression.

“I told you I’m not. In fact, as long as you save some of your passion for me, I am willing to leave the three of you alone to finish,” I answered.

I saw the subtle expression changes and smiles pass between all three girls. “I have a better suggestion,” Margaret said in her sultry voice. “Perhaps I can convince you to stay and join us. Gemma and I were hoping you hadn’t picked out all three of your new wives while you were in London and would consider her for one of your wives or at least for one of your consorts,” she continued. She smiled at the look on my face, probably similar to the one I had when I found out I was being elevated to Earl.

“Get undressed,” Margaret commanded in her sultry voice.

Instead, I pulled her over to me. “Why are you doing this? I told you I’m not upset,” I insisted quietly.

“When you started courting me, Gemma stopped talking to me for months. She feels the same way about you that I do and was upset when you chose me over her. Now that you are an Earl, you can have four wives, and it is not uncommon for you to also have one or more concubines,” she said nonchalantly. My mind wasn’t working clearly enough to remember that I was now a Duke.

“We all want this; do it,” Margaret encouraged huskily.

While it was unusual for a noble to take a close relative as a wife, it was neither illegal nor unheard of. As often as Abby had commented over the years that she wished she could marry me, I could see that she was now staking her claim.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” I asked Abby one last time as I hugged her from behind the same way I’d done with Gemma when we finished. She nodded, too choked up to answer, happy tears rolling down her cheeks.

Afterwards, I crashed on the bed next to the three, and vaguely remember hearing female voices whispering and giggling quietly before I fell asleep.

John woke me once in the middle of the night when he made sure everyone knew he wanted to be fed and changed. He was still asleep when I finally woke up the next morning but my movement on the bed woke him. Margaret sleepily directed him to her breast and smiled at me before closing her eyes again. Abby and Gemma also stayed in bed when I got up.

“I take it Claire finally went home,” I commented at breakfast, remembering her visit the last time I was here.

“Actually, she should be back in a week or two to try again. She’s extremely smitten with you. She said she’s never seen anyone handle a bow so confidently and smoothly. In addition, new nobles usually spend a week bragging to everyone and making fools out of themselves. You spent one day shopping for things for your troops and family, and then left for home with the troops to begin the campaign against York. The fact that you slept on the ground with the men rather than stopping at an inn for the night made her realize that you’re much different from the pompous, pampered nobles she’s been around most of her life. She says that you are a real man compared to the others who only pretend to be men.

“I told her about your concern that she was too used to the pampered life of a nobleman’s daughter and that she would have a hard time outside of the Manor House. I promised that we’d consider her if she came back, though,” Margaret explained.

By the time breakfast was over, my mother had a pretty fair idea of what had happened the previous night and pulled me aside into what turned out to be my study. After explaining the sight greeting me last night when I got to the bedroom and what happened next, she relaxed. “I didn’t realize Margaret and Gemma were so close or that Abby had joined them,” she said contemplatively.

“What are you thinking?” I asked when she didn’t go further and had a far-away look in her eyes.

“I was just thinking about my best friend when I was their age and wishing her husband was a Baron. That way he could have two wives,” she sighed.

“Why?” I asked densely.

She smiled indulgently as she answered. “The only unmarried men in town over the age of eighteen are drunk, lazy, or abusive. There are forty new widows, most with children, and nobody to help support them. This winter will be extremely difficult for those families,” she sighed.

“I hadn’t even thought of that,” I admitted.

“You’ve been busy these last few weeks,” she consoled.

“But I’ve had a lot of time to think while we were riding and I never once thought about the welfare of the widows or their children,” I chided myself.

“Perhaps it’s a good thing I moved in with you,” she teased, hugging me. “I know how much Abby loves you and I know she has to be very happy this morning,” Mom said emotionally.

When she set about her chores, I set out to find the Bishop. He hemmed and hawed at my proposal, but in the end, greed won, greed over both money and power. He would become the new Archbishop of York, presiding over the church in both Yorkshire and Lancashire. In return, he would allow an exception in the church’s views on marriage. Any widow with no acceptable suitor after sixty days could be married as the second wife (with the permission of the first wife) to any man of strong moral character who could provide for both wives and their children. Strong moral character would include not drinking to excess, being a hard worker and good provider, not being abusive, and naturally, attending church regularly.

In addition, other men could take my personal slaves as a second wife with my permission and the woman’s agreement. He would make the announcement this Sunday, after I appointed him the new Archbishop of York, a vastly better paying position than the one he currently held. I also “suggested” (ouch, twist his arm some more) that Bishops and other clergy should be allowed to take a widow or personal slave as a wife and reminded him that any widows who remarried and their children would no longer be the financial concern of the church since they would then have a husband to support them.

I stopped by to give my mother the good news after making her promise not to spread it beyond the friend she had spoken of, and the friend’s husband. I didn’t want to steal the new Archbishop’s thunder on Sunday.

After getting over being shocked, she asked, “Are you going to be upset about me marrying again?”

“I made the arrangements, didn’t I?” I asked, grinning devilishly. “So, do I get to know who it is now?” I asked, very curious about who my mother would’ve chosen as her partner when she was a girl.

“You’ll find out if and when her husband asks your permission to marry me,” she teased flirtatiously as she walked away.

My next stop was the dungeons to let Jeffrey’s wife out and to see if she had learned anything.

“As much fun as I had torturing and making you tell me everything you knew, a promise is a promise,” I told Alice, winking--after making sure nobody else could see. “The information you gave me was correct, so there will be no more torture, and your execution will be private and quick.” I winked again to let her know I didn’t mean it as she blanched at the pronouncement.

After the two guards took her from the cell, I said quietly to the captain of the guards (but loud enough so the remaining women could hear) “Use your knife to kill her before you leave the prison. Make sure she doesn’t see it coming and make it a clean kill. I promised she wouldn’t suffer.” The captain acknowledged the orders and hurried after the others.

Unbeknownst to the women in the cell, I had previously instructed the captain and two guards as to what I had planned. They were to ignore the instructions I gave them in the cell and were to take her immediately to what passed as my study in the dungeon. Once she had a chance to report her findings to me, she would be taken to a well-appointed room on the second floor of the Manor House where her children were being cared for by the staff, Margaret, and my future wives. A warm bath and a full meal were also awaiting her. I had reminded the guards to treat her respectfully.

“So many beautiful women to torture and so little time,” I bemoaned as I walked around the large cell full of shackled and otherwise restrained women. Most pulled away when I groped them, but many understood what the future held for them and hoped not to upset me, standing stoically as I ran my hands across their feminine curves. “I’ll be back in a little while to choose a few playmates,” I taunted as I left the cell.