The de Vere Inheritance

Chapter Eight - 4th July 1632

The wracking coughs began before Elizabeth was even fully awake. As the pain in her chest intensified, she opened her eyes blearily and almost screamed in fright. She had not shared a bed with another person, let alone a man in so many years that she was accustomed to sleeping alone. The sullen musketeer lay beside her under the counterpane, mercifully still asleep. As quietly as she could Elizabeth slid out of bed as she tried to hold her coughs in and rushed to the other side of the room where a bowl sat on the dresser. Elizabeth coughed into a piece of linen to try and muffle the sound, her breathing shallow and uneven as she tried to recover herself as best she could. Mornings were always the worst. It felt as if the coughs were coming from the very pit of her stomach and for a few moments Elizabeth thought she might vomit. Then she realised that she did not recall the last meal she had consumed. Not that it mattered of course, as she would not care for such trivial things as food in the weeks to come.

It was blood that she eventually coughed up into the bowel and Elizabeth stood looking down at it for the longest time, wondering just how much she was capable of before a coughing fit might kill her one day. She slid down to the floor and rested her back against the dresser, knowing a dizzy spell was imminent. Sometimes she was recovered from her morning attacks in minutes, but that morning she could not recall how long she had been out of bed. Her eyes kept flitting across the room to the man who still lay in her bed, appearing to be sound asleep. It was still early though and she hoped she could manage to return to bed before he could even tell that she'd left it.

Elizabeth knew why things were so much worse that morning of course. Tiredness affected her condition greatly, and she was sure she hadn't slept for more than three hours. She had no energy left to spend and coughed more blood into the linen cloth in her hand as she did not have it in her to stand at the dresser again. Eventually the coughs began to subside a little and she was left gasping for breath. As her breathing gradually began to slow to normal Elizabeth finally let herself believe what had occured the evening before. There was a dull sort of ache between her legs and in her thighs but it was not unwanted, nor was it really that painful. It was more an ache of tiredness, and of muscles used after so long dormant. Despite how ill she felt because of her rather exerted evening beforehand, Elizabeth felt a wave of something that served to calm her. She did not think it was happiness, for she could not atesst to one night lifting her mood so considerably. There was a contentedness about the room though, with the shutters still covering the windows and only a little light permiating through the cracks here and there. There was enough light for her to see, but it was not the harsh light that an open window afforded.

Elizabeth had almost forgotten what it felt like to be held by a man. In her first few months of marriage she liked to think she had enjoyed her love-making with Eric, but it had quickly faded to a feeling of duty and responsibility when Eric began to loose interest in her. After she had lost their child, he'd never touched her again and she'd not even felt like she was doing her duty as his wife. The musketeer had not made her feel inadequate. In all honesty, she had thought he was going to simply take what he needed and she was prepared and content to experience that. She would gave gained pleasure simply in being wanted for those few short moments. It had not been so. He'd wished to please her too. When she looked back upon her married life she really could not recall a time when she and Eric and ever made love in a way that was simply to please her. She had also been wrong about other things. She had half-expected the musketeer to leave once he had sated his need. She'd thought he'd not stay for much more than an hour. oh how wrong she had been. There was a reason she was so exhausted. Their tryst had only ended mere hours before the sun was due to rise and Elizabeth could not find it within herself to regret it.

With Eric it had been all duty and civility. The musketeer on the other hand, had not a civil tone in his body she thought. She grinned suddenly and hid the expression behind her hand even though there was no one to hide it from. In essence they hadn't done much talking once they'd reached her lodgings. They hadn't needed to. They were all tongues and hands and...