Virginia Henley (16 page)

“And if it is true, you are no lady!” he mocked.

She sat uncertainly on the bed, yet she was determined
that this was as far as she was going to be undressed. As Roger looked at her, the firelight colored one side of her face, and the finespun sheet seemed to shiver against her breasts. He longed to take her in his arms, longed to kiss the insolence from her bold mouth. When she looked away from him, his eyes softened; she was young. “Lie down before you take cold,” he said softly.

She slipped under the covers, keeping well to the edge of the bed. He extinguished the candles across the room but left burning the ones beside the bed. Then, naked, he got into bed. He lay on his side and propped himself up on his elbow so he could converse with her. She was prickly as a hedgehog. How to begin his wooing?

“Child, you need not fear me. I’ll not hurt you,” he murmured, reaching out strong arms and drawing her against him.

“I’m not a child, I’m a woman!” she said hotly. He took her mouth in a savage kiss. His heart was thudding, and she could feel the echoing beat inside her as his strong arms crushed her to his chest.

“Whose heart is beating so loudly?” she whispered.

“Ours,” he murmured. “Roseanna,” he whispered against her mouth, “I am going to show you what a woman gives to a man and what he gives her in return.” His right hand slid between her legs, and his fingers unerringly found the sensitive jewel of her womanliness. Coaxingly, he whispered, “Marriage is a matter of give and take.”

Her body jumped back from his touch, and she again took refuge in anger. “Ah, yes, Ravenspur. I give and you take!” she cried.

He raised his voice for the first time. “Be fair, Roseanna! I give you my name, my protection, all my worldly
goods, a position of honor in my castles, and more. I am willing to give you freedom—the same freedom you’ve always enjoyed, to come and go as you please, to consort with whomever you wish, freedom to breed your horses or whatever. What are you prepared to give me?”

There was a heavy silence in the room as she thought desperately for long moments. Finally she said, “Nothing,” and lapsed into silence.

“Let me love you, Roseanna,” he said low.

“No! You won’t turn me into a frightened little rabbit to do your bidding!”

“I would not change you by one hairbreadth. I want you exactly as you are!” His hands cupped her buttocks and drew her against his hardness. She went stiff in his arms and cried, “Don’t touch me!” Her breath was cut off as Roger kissed her thoroughly. The taste of her on his tongue and the scent of her fired his fantasies until his mind reeled with the delicious things he was going to do with her.

Roseanna’s body was awash with wicked sensations. Any moment now she would arch against him wantonly unless she fought it. His mouth left hers, and his lips seared a fiery path down her throat to her breast. She recoiled from him. “I love another. Don’t touch me again, or I shall retch!”

Angered at last, he flung himself from the bed with a fertile oath.

“Leave me in peace. There are scores of other rooms.”

“I’ll not make us the laughingstock of the whole damned Court,” he said, and threw himself down onto one of the couches. An ominous silence filled the room, broken only by the crackling of the fire.

Roseanna’s mind and body were filled with contradictory
impulses. Her mind rejected Ravenspur and cried out for the sweet, safe love of Sir Bryan. But her body lusted for the primitive, wild experiences Ravenspur’s very touch promised. She crushed down those wicked impulses, vowing that she would not be guilty of sins of the flesh as her mother had been. Then in a complete turnaround, she asked herself how it could be a sin when they were married in the eyes of God. As always after Roseanna had uttered something particularly cruel, her conscience began to bother her. A half hour of heavy silence passed; she hoped he had fallen asleep but knew in her heart that he had not. “Ravenspur?” she whispered. There was no reply. “I—I’m sorry if I was cruel. It’s just that we are total strangers.” Silence. “I would like to get to know you so we could become friends.” Again silence. “Tell me of yourself. Talk to me.”

Even the air was still. Then after a long time she heard a low laugh. It held no happiness, yet it was not bitter, just self-mocking. “Perhaps it is poetic justice,” he murmured. She listened. After a pause he went on. “My first marriage was arranged by my parents to a widow ten years older than myself. I protested like hell, but I had no say in the matter. I was fifteen years old.”

Roseanna drew in a startled breath.

“My mother was an avaricious bitch. The widow brought me land and a fleet of merchant ships, and that was all that mattered.” He paused as the memories came flooding back. “She had bad teeth and foul breath and could not get me to bed fast enough.” The mocking laughter came again. “I covered myself with shame on my wedding night. I could not complete my husbandly duties.” He wondered why he was telling her all this.
What was the profit in giving a woman weapons she could use against him? Why expose his past weakness?

Roseanna imagined the fifteen-year-old in the bed, and she was filled with compassion for him. He went on quietly. “She died in childbed. Poor Lady Agnes. No matter what our differences, I would not have had that happen.”

“I’m truly sorry, my lord,” whispered Roseanna.

“It was long ago.”

“What of your second wife?” she dared.

“We will not speak of it.” His words were cold and final. He turned his back to her and seemingly went to sleep, but his mind was relentlessly dredging up his past. He’d been the greatest young fool in Christendom after that. He was so hell-bent on a wife of his own choice, he’d flown in the face of his parents’ advice and had married a girl from the lower classes. He craved someone beautiful who would please him in bed, but unfortunately for him, Janet pleased other men in bed, too—half his knights, if the rumors were true. It had all ended in murder.

He deliberately stopped all further thoughts of his second wife. To allow his mind to dwell upon it, going over and over it, was a sickness. Roger questioned his own wisdom in marrying for a third time after he’d vowed never to remarry; then slowly a smile came to his lips, and he knew with a certainty that Roseanna had been made for him.

Roseanna lay awake for a long time. She did not feel sorry for herself, but her heart ached for Sir Bryan. This would be a night of a thousand hours for him, yet she felt proud that she had not betrayed him.

Roseanna drifted upward through a pleasant dream in which she lay in a sunbeam in a field of new-mown hay.
Then her eyes opened slowly and focused on the blue brocade couch. He was gone! She sprang up, suspecting that he had crawled into bed with her.

He chuckled. “Did you expect to find a viper in your bed?” He loomed over her. She had to tilt back her head to take in the great height of him. As she did so, she was struck by his dark, masculine splendor. This primitive, godlike creature was her husband. The thought sent shivers down her spine. He saw her shudder, and his pent-up frustration demanded that he touch her one way or another. “If you insist on acting like a spoiled child, then I shall have no alternative but to spank you.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she challenged, sparks instantly flying between them. He sat down on the bed and dragged her across his lap. Exquisite sensations flooded his loins as her body lay across his thighs. His anger melted as he lifted her nightgown to reveal her deliciously round buttocks. The smell of new-mown hay again filled Roseanna’s nostrils, and she realized that the attractive smell was woodruff, which Ravenspur must have used in completing his toilet. She tried to struggle out of the vulnerable, undignified position in which he held her but to no avail.

Kate Kendall was outside their chamber door listening. The moment she heard voices, she nodded to Alice. They entered, carrying a new riding outfit. They were rendered speechless when they saw their new master kissing Roseanna’s bottom. Embarrassed herself, Roseanna felt pity for what she knew Alice must feel. She scrambled to a semidignified position, smiled at the girl, and murmured, “I’m so glad you picked that outfit.” The tunic was of golden wool, edged in scarlet with a matching
cloak and scarlet riding boots—the Plantagenet colors.

Ingenuous as always, Alice replied, “Oh, my lady, it was chosen by Baron Ravenspur.” Kate sent Alice a look that could kill and only wished she’d been close enough to give the feckless girl a good pinch.

Roseanna’s expression changed. “On second thought, I think I have a very pretty lavender outfit with matching riding gauntlets. I have a fancy for that one today.”

“Miss Contrary,” muttered Kate.

Roseanna threw a smug little smile at Ravenspur. “You don’t mind how I dress, do you?”

Beneath the covers his hand swept up her bare thigh, and when it moved deliberately to the velvety inside, she gasped. “You do the dressing; I’ll take care of the undressing,” he taunted.

Alice blushed to the roots of her hair.

“Tit fer tat,” nodded Kate with satisfaction.

Roger picked up his cloak and threw it negligently over his arm. He surveyed his wife, still sitting in bed. “If I ask you to hurry so we can reach Ravensworth before dark, I suppose you will purposely dawdle. Of course, if you don’t mind sharing a bed at some cramped little inn, I certainly don’t.”

“I may have many faults, my lord, but tardiness is not one of them!” She flung back the bedcovers and swung her legs to the carpet.

“Delightful,” he said, more to himself than to anyone in the room. She stifled the urge to throw a candelabrum at him.

Kate saw that she still wore her chemise and surreptitiously examined the bed sheets. When she found neither blood nor semen stains, she pressed her lips together.
This boded no good! If Roseanna was playing games, leading him all around the houses, she was playing with fire. It happened that she had caught his fancy and he was willing to indulge her a bit, but any fool could see that if he were pushed too far, he’d be dangerous. Aye, Roseanna had met her match—and more! She just hadn’t realized it yet.

“I’ll bring him low yet,” vowed Roseanna a couple of moments after he had safely departed.

“There’s many a slip ’twixt cup and lip,” muttered Kate darkly.

“Oh, I wish we were going to London instead of farther north. I’ve heard so much about the Court at Westminster. I wish I could get a look at the Queen.”

“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride,” said Kate.

“Kate, if you utter one more of your damned sayings, I’ll scream. From morning till night, all I hear is ‘If you cry more, you’ll piss less,’ or ‘Laugh before breakfast; cry before bedtime.’ I’m fair toty with your sayings!”

Kate nodded. “Somebody’s made you toty, and I don’t need three guesses to name him.”

“A truce, Kate. I must bid my family farewell; then I’ll come and help pack. I want to be ready and waiting when His High and Mightiness returns. I won’t give him the satisfaction of gloating over my tardiness.”

Roseanna knew it was her duty to bid her mother farewell She didn’t think she could ever forgive Joanna for forcing this marriage on her, but the thing was done and nothing could change it. It had begun to dawn upon her that love and marriage were not the same thing and that she had been naïve and unworldly to expect to be allowed to marry for love. Joanna had not been allowed to do so, and when she thought over every marriage she had seen,
she saw clearly that most men and women sought love elsewhere. She could see clearly the reasons why her parents had chosen Ravenspur, for the advantages to her were numerous. What puzzled her was why Ravenspur had been so determined to have her. She brought him nothing. The only explanation she could come up with was that he had been determined to have his way. He would not be thwarted, and when she had asked to be released, she became the one thing that he had to have at all costs. She shrugged, hurried along to her parents’ room, and knocked politely.

Neville was dressed, but Joanna was still abed. “Darling, you’re just in time to eat breakfast with us. Come, let’s have a look at you. For all your pitiful tears and protestations, you don’t look any worse for wear.”

Roseanna didn’t think she’d ever forgive her mother for this marriage, but she’d be damned if she’d let her wounds show. “Oh, I’m all right, but you should see Ravenspur. Poor devil!”

Her mother drawled, “Exhausted, is he?”

Roseanna caught her mother’s eye and glared, “No, he’s suffering from night starvation!”

Joanna said, “Neville, your daughter can be downright vulgar at times.”

“Yes, she takes after you, my dear.” He smiled and brushed his lips across Roseanna’s brow. “I’ll miss you sorely, you know.”

“I’ll miss you too, Father.”

“Nonsense. You’ll be so busy breeding, once you get your clutches on Ravenspur’s stable, that you won’t have time to miss us.”

“She may be busy breeding more than horses,” laughed Joanna, offering her daughter a plate of food.

Roseanna looked her in the eye again and said, “Don’t hold your breath!”

Neville caught a signal from Joanna that she wished to speak privately with her daughter. He quickly kissed Roseanna’s brow and withdrew tactfully.

Joanna put down the little silver dish of plums she was eating and took Roseanna’s hand. “Oh, my darling, if only I could impart to you my knowledge of men. You are far lovelier than I ever was. If you are clever, you will soon have him eating out of your hand.” Roseanna’s stubborn chin went up.

“Roseanna, it is a man’s world, never doubt it! The power is in their hands. Yet a clever woman, by choosing the most powerful man she knows and enslaving him, gains all his power for herself. Darling, you won’t enslave him by denying him your body.”

“I am Lady Ravenspur,” shrugged Roseanna. “That’s enough power for me.”

“Simply being married isn’t enough. He could take a mistress anytime, and she would have the real power,” cautioned Joanna. “You have the man now—but can you hold him?” She hesitated, then admitted, “I couldn’t.”

Roseanna thought of Edward and the power the Queen had over him.