Godiva: Unbridled Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Legal

  Legal

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  Author’s Notes

  Godiva:

  Unbridled

  An erotic retelling

  By Jenny Dare

  For Geo.

  Thanks for the history. Here’s to the future.

  Copyright © 2012

  Jenny Dare

  Facebook/Jenny.dare

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design: The Killion Group

  ISBN-13: 978-1481267946

  ISBN-10: 1481267949

  This novel is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the

  author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  A Note About History and This Book

  Curious about the historical events that occur in this book and the people who actually lived them? Click here for an explanation! (Warning: contains spoilers)

  Coventry, England 1025

  Chapter 1

  Lady Godiva’s feet stamped out a feverish drumbeat as she sprinted down the spiraling staircase, struggling to wriggle her arm into the sleeve hole of her surcoat so that she wouldn’t be clad in only her chemise. She wished for her shoes—these slippers weren’t suitable for going outdoors—but there was no time for that now. Her focus could be only on escape.

  “Godiva!” she heard the roar of her husband’s voice, echoing throughout the upstairs hallway, just as she rounded the bottom stair and raced toward the door. The hounds came running to meet her; this was just a game to them, exciting and fast-paced. But no game was afoot; no hunt was beginning. Only a retreat, and the retreat was her own.

  As she raced outside and toward the rear of the manor, the dogs baying and running beside her, she saw the stables just in the distance and she darted toward them. She heard her husband’s voice bellowing commands from the house behind her. Throwing open the door of the stable, she dashed toward her horse, unbolted her gate and mounted her in a swift motion. Fisting the reins in her hand, the dogs barking and howling around her, the horse bucked its head and trotted out of the stable, the Lady Godiva squeezing tightly with her thighs to hold on to the bare back of the animal as it made its way toward the stable doors.

  As they emerged into the early morning sun, her husband, Edwin, and some of his men had spread out across the grounds, two of them on horseback.

  “You dare run from me, wife!” the voice of her husband rang out over the land, and the anxiety rose within her. She reined her horse around and they started to run in the opposite direction. Immediately, the two riders of her husband’s group were upon her, forcing her horse to turn back around and in the direction of the manor.

  “No, no, no…” Godiva pleaded desperately, tried everything to keep her horse from being herded back toward her husband, but these riders were expert, and before she knew it, she was upon him.

  “Get off that horse and back inside at once!” He grabbed for her leg as soon as she was within reach, but she maneuvered away enough to slip his grasp.

  “I will not!” Oh, if she had the control of a saddle, she could get away, but on bareback she just didn’t have the balance, the stability.

  “In the house, woman. I’ll not be spoken to in this manner!” Edwin motioned to William, his valet. “Get her off of that horse!”

  “I speak as I see things, and as I feel. And I speak the truth.” The lady struggled against the grasp of the man who pulled at her legs, and suddenly another one came from behind and reached to her surcoat, tugging at it firmly, and she lost her balance. “You cannot control my thoughts, Edwin. And you cannot control me anymore! I’ve had enough of this life, this miserable existence!” With a shriek, the two men overcame her, pulled her off the horse as she flailed her arms and legs. The horse neighed, danced around, agitated, about to rear up. “I’ll not live with someone who sees only his own greed and has no care for anyone but himself!”

  “This again! All this noise over townspeople you don’t even know, have never even met?”

  “All this noise over a man who will not open his eyes to what surrounds him!” She poked her husband hard in his sturdy chest then shoved him but his bulk didn’t move against her much smaller frame. “I will not be a part of this ravenous desire to collect from those who have nothing to give, when we have more than we could ever need!”

  “And what of this house, this land?” Edwin gestured, then grabbed the lapel of her surcoat. “These clothes? Do you think they come for free, that the kind people of Coventry simply hand them over by their own generosity?”

  “I had land of my own before you even knew me so I don’t need your land! And these clothes, you can take them! I would sooner go naked then suffer another day of watching your greed bring ruin and poverty upon this town!”

  “As you wish, willful wife! If you think yourself so wise that the good townspeople of Coventry would appreciate your plight so very much, go naked, ride through the town on your horse, I dare it! I dare that you do this deed, and I shall rescind all the taxes levied henceforth this year!”

  “It’s the fifth day of the month, you’ve already collected your greedy tariffs, so your dare is null! I would do it otherwise! On the condition that I would also be released of your grasp and your name! I’ll take my land and my horse and I’d leave you behind!”

  “So be it wise woman! Next month then, I shall be sure to save the date! Parade your unclothed self around the town, make your statement! Or perhaps you’d like to start now, baring yourself to the morning sky?”

  In a swift motion, Edwin swatted the rear of the restless horse, and she let out a shrill whinny and took off at a gallop.

  “Niklada, no!” Godiva spun around to run after the horse, but Edwin already had her by the hem of her surcoat, and he chortled wickedly as she lost her balance and fell against him. Struggling to get free of his grip as he tried to wrap his arms around her, she wriggled one arm out of her coat, kicking and swinging her fists, landing a punch on the nose of one of the men who tried to help contain her. As he stumbled backwards to the ground, it gave everyone just a second of pause, and she tore away from her husband’s grasp and ran in the direction of her fleeing horse. The lady called to her in the German commands she had been trained with.

  “Niklada, halt!” The horse slowed suddenly to a stop, reared up slightly then tossed her head up and down.

  “The fifth day of next month!” she heard her husband call to her from behind and didn’t look back to see if he was pursuing her. “Niklada will need to learn some new commands by then! Better start practicing today my wife, just leave your clothes where you stand!” Her heart pounded in her chest, legs burned as she ran with all her strength.

  “Niklada! Sachte!”

  The horse stood still, as commanded. When Godiva reached her she grabbed a handful of mane, scrambled onto the horse’s back, hiking up her chemise and her flapping surcoat, and grasped tightly the neck of her mare.

  “Lauf!” The horse broke into a run, and the lady kicked at her sides, repeating again, “Go, Niklada! Geh! Run!”

  The horse galloped away from the chiding
laughter, and Lady Godiva clutched tightly to her mane and held fast with her thighs, trying her best to sit forward, to keep center on the mare’s back. The countryside passed by in a blur, neatly trimmed hedges and gardens, streaks of green, the road a beige smudge beneath her. Godiva’s breath caught in her throat and she realized she’d been choking back a sob, not sure where she would go or what she would do. A memory of Leofric, Edwin’s brother, came into her mind and the hot tears flooded over. If only it had been him that she’d married, her life might be so different. Kind and gentle, Leofric had been the man she fell in love with, but he wouldn’t dishonor his older brother by stealing away his fiancée. There had been but one time that he’d held her trembling body against his, just one month before her wedding to his brother. But they’d both slipped away from the encounter so guilt-ridden and shamed for the purity of their love and the passion that they’d shared, that they knew it could never be repeated. Edwin was head of the family, had all the power, and he would never have let his betrothed prize go, certainly not to his younger, less forceful brother, who had never even served in battle due to a bad knee, who would be more content spending his time poring over the books that the monks spent hours illuminating and having philosophical discussions with their Lector.

  The houses were long in the distance now, and the sob that wracked Godiva’s body shook her balance. Where would she go? She had given up her social life three years ago at the time of her marriage, didn’t have any friends to run to. She’d ridden far enough that she wasn’t even sure where she was, or how she’d get back to the manor even if she wanted to. No, she would never go back. This was her chance to start her life over. But the world suddenly seemed very big.

  She loosened her grip and relaxed and the horse slowed to a trot. The Lady Godiva looked around, surrounded by fields on one side and green hills on the other. Fences in the distance marked properties, but she had no idea who owned them. Niklada had a sheen of sweat covering her coat and she was winded. She was a fit horse, but didn’t usually get vigorous exercise like this. The Lady patted the side of her neck. At least she wasn’t completely alone.

  Suddenly, she heard something behind her, in the distance. She jerked around, and over a hill she saw someone riding toward her. Was it one of Edwin’s men? He was too far away to tell, but she couldn’t let him catch up to her. Once again she grabbed onto Niklada’s mane and tightened her legs. She turned off the road toward a field and the horse broke into a canter once again.

  If it were Edwin’s men, they would grab her off her mount. Force her back to the manor, back into Edwin’s service, into a life filled with his chiding, condescending remarks about everything she did and everything she was from her hatred of his greedy taxes to her childhood fear of thunder. She would have to see the pain in Leofric’s eyes every time his brother pinched her bottom at a gathering, made excuses for them to leave so he could ravage her. No, she had to leave it all behind. The further she got right now, the better. In the direction they were heading, she saw a small orchard, what appeared to be fruit trees with low hanging branches. Absently, she wondered if she should pause to gather some food.

  The wall came up out of nowhere, its meandering, low-slung profile blending into the terrain so harmoniously that she didn’t see it until it was too late. Suddenly, they were upon it, and Niklada had soared into the air, clearing the stone and landing on the other side with a solid thud of her hooves. The jolt unseated Godiva and she lost her balance, felt herself slipping off the side of the horse and she shrieked, clutching with all her might, grabbing mane, reaching with one arm to hook around the mare’s neck, but it was no use. In her panicked jostling, her surcoat flew off her shoulder, flapped madly behind her, and flew off, caught on a tree branch. She screamed again, because it felt like someone had jerked it off from behind her.

  “Niklada! Halt!”

  The jarring canter of the horse slowed to a trot but it was too late. The Lady Godiva lost her grip and her balance, and for a timeless moment, the world slowed down around her as she flew to the ground. All at once, the forceful earth knocked the wind from her lungs. Her head hit hard against something, and the last thing she remembered was the tattoo of Niklada’s hooves on the earth as they slowed to a stop somewhere nearby.

  Chapter 2

  As she opened her heavy eyes, the face of a young man came slowly into focus, hazy at first, then clearer as her vision adjusted to the afternoon sun. When she stirred, she felt the grass beneath her legs, and was at once aware of the bareness of them, and immediately she clutched at her chest, relieved to feel at least the thin, simple fabric of her linen chemise. Blinking, gasping, her eyes opened wide, fully taking in the face of the man who knelt beside her in the grass. She didn’t know him. Young and handsome, his straw blonde hair fell over his forehead and kind blue eyes watched with concern, not wickedness. Still, she didn’t recognize him, but her head throbbed, and she heard the gentle whicker of a horse behind her. The horse was familiar. The horse, she knew.

  “Niklada!” she cried, reaching toward the tawny mare, but her balance was off, and she fell back into the grass. Strong arms caught her before her aching head hit the ground, and a voice spoke gently to her as she stared at the face, fading once again into darkness, her head lolling back as she slipped into unconsciousness.

  As her dreams enveloped her, the softness of a grand bed comforted her aching body, filtered light streaming through silk spun curtains. The lady sat up, surveying her surroundings. The young man who had been with her in the field emerged from the shadows.

  “You’ve awakened,” he said. “I was worried about you.”

  “Thank you for your kindness,” she replied. “But I’m quite well now.”

  “Here, drink this,” he said, bringing to her a fluted glass filled with amber liquid. “It’s honey water. It will revive your senses and hydrate you. After sleeping for so long, you must drink to replenish yourself.” He lowered himself to the bed, handing her the glass and she drank, watching him. He wore a fine shirt with real silver buttons, and leather breeches sewn with tiny, intricate stitches. His scent was warm and masculine, and she desired him immediately. Draining the glass, she dropped it to the carpet beside her and sat up in the bed.

  “You’ve given me a potion of iniquity,” she breathed, and her eyes narrowed. Leaning forward, she crawled toward him across the bed. “An elixir that will cause me to do your every bidding!”

  “No, no!” The young man scrambled away from her as she advanced, jumped to the floor to stand next to the bed. “It’s pure honey water, lady. I promise you, on my honor!”

  “Ah, but what affect this honey has!” She had reached him now, put her hand on his stomach and wrapped her arm around his back, burying her face into the thick, warm leather of his belt. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a man next to me. Lay with me now?”

  “I cannot,” the young man replied, but he didn’t move away. “Lady, you are in a compromised state.”

  “I am quite well,” she replied. “You’ve made me well. Your kind hands. Your healing voice.” She reached up, slipped a silver button through its hole, then another, and another. Her fingers slipped inside his shirt, ran along the taut, smooth skin of his belly. The young man groaned.

  “I am but a man,” he said. “It is hard to resist.”

  “So don’t resist,” she replied, unbuckling his belt. At that, she paused, looked up from where she sat at the edge of the bed, him standing between her spread legs, she clad in only her linen shift. She reached for the bodice and pulled the satin bow, loosening the lattice tie. As he watched from above, she slipped the delicate sleeves from her shoulders, baring the swell of one breast, then the other. With a growl, he was on her, sliding her back onto the bed and covering her body with the weight of his, pressing powerfully against her. She bent one leg, catching the top of his boot with her foot and anchoring it there, arching upward against the hard swell in his breeches. His hand reached at her bodice, pushing it
open widely, her breasts now loose and he caught one between his lips, sucking hard, then more gently, enclosing her entire nipple with his mouth. She drew up her garment with one hand, wondering if he could feel that she wore nothing beneath it, and took great pleasure as she rubbed herself wetly against the rough leather, along the swelling hardness beneath. He thrust against her slowly, tortuously, then moved away from her breasts and up to her face where he kissed her cheeks almost frantically, then caught her mouth in a hungry kiss. She reached to his belt, longing to feel him against her, inside her, but she couldn’t unlace the breeches beneath the buckle. She moaned, desperate. He seemed unaware of her plight to release his bulging member so that he might plunge it within her and he continued to kiss her mouth, her neck. The moans became louder, more panicked as her desire rose, frustrated in frantic anticipation. Again she moaned, scraped herself against him, almost in tears, almost out of breath—

  “My lady,” a gentle voice became clear and she heard her own whimpering, felt the cold sweat that covered her body. She opened her eyes, saw the same gentle face that had stared at her before, as she lay in the grass. She gasped, sitting upright.

  “No!” she exclaimed, and she took in the scene around her. She lay in a rough bed, large and open, cushioned by hay and feathers, wrapped in thick blankets. The distinct scent of wood and straw surrounded her, and she realized she was in some kind of barn. So it had been a dream, she thought to herself, and was relieved. She looked at the man’s face again, this time much more shyly. But he couldn’t have known he dreams, could he?

  “You’ve had a high fever,” he said. “It just broke this morning. But you’ve been crying out in your sleep. I tried to keep you comfortable but I’m afraid I didn’t do a very good job.” She saw that next to him sat a bucket and a stack of cloths that he’d been using to dab her face.