Alayna found him in one of his sulks, brooding in his chair by the hearth. She would have liked to vent her spleen after such a humiliation as he had dealt her, but she saw that he was in no mood. He glared at her as soon as she entered, snarling, “In the future, madam, I will expect you to accompany me to our chamber after every evening meal.”
She made no reply. “Is that understood?” he demanded. Alayna nodded mutely, preparing to make herself ready for bed.
Confused, she stood for a moment, unsure. She was too modest to undress with him present. And she could not sleep in her clothing, like a servant. As if reading her thoughts, she heard a chuckle rumble from the direction of the fireplace.
“Go ahead and disrobe. ’Tis nothing I have not already viewed.” She saw his eyes darken as he watched her. “Aye, and I would gladly see that vision again, wife.” She watched him apprehensively. He seemed strange, thoughtful and agitated, as if he had been ruminating on unpleasant thoughts.
With a fluid movement, he rose from his seat to come to stand before her. “Surely it is my right to see my bride in that state of natural beauty, unhampered by the constraint of clothing, that a man longs for? Would you deny me, Alayna?”
She shook her head, meaning she would obey him, but then made no move to do it.
“You are quiet tonight. What blessed event has caused the stillness of your acid tongue?” He slid his hands up her arms, over her shoulders, to splay his fingers around her neck. “Why do you hesitate? Is it that you need help? I am glad to assist you, but I recall that yestereve I did not do a very capable job in your undressing.”
He was mocking her, of course, for last night he had destroyed her garments. She knew if she resisted, the end would be the same, for he would surely make good on his threat and tear her clothing from her back.
Praying he meant only to taunt her, she stepped out of her gown. When he looked at her expectantly, she reluctantly drew the undertunic over her head to stand shivering before him in her shift.
She kept her eyes lowered, not wanting to see the disapproval in her denial of his request to see her naked. The shift was flimsy enough, being of fine linen but it did offer some degree of shielding.
“Are you not fond of that piece of clothing?” he needled. She crossed her arms protectively over her breasts.
“Please, my lord,” she whispered.
Lucien lifted her chin so that he could see her face. “’Tis rare that I see you like this, soft and meek. I wonder if ’tis real or just another ploy to melt a man’s heart.”
“You cannot expect me to strip and stand before you. Even you would not be so cruel to require it from me.”
His eyes flickered over her, softening.
“Aye, I will allow you your modesty, for now.” Still he did not move away. She wished he would leave her, for her body was trembling violently with his nearness.
He had not forced her last night. Did he regret his not having taken her? Did he mean to right it tonight?
“You are beautiful, you do know that, my lady wife?” He drew her into his arms and kissed her gently. She held her breath against the soft touch, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. She feared he would feel the pounding of it against his own breast. She could feel the muscular hardness of the whole length of his body. His mouth felt warm, his tongue touching hers in a heart-stopping invasion that left her limp.
Her mind calmly reminded her of her anger, of all that he had done to hurt and offend, yet she felt herself slipping away, caught up again in the sensations that had assailed her yestereve. Waves of flittering pleasure teased her belly and sparked the fires of arousal to life. She moaned as if in protest, but it came out throaty and passion filled. She tried to turn away from his mouth, but he only swept down to devour her shoulders and neck.
His mouth was like a branding iron searing her flesh with kisses of fire. The calloused hands she had studied so diligently at supper slid down over her curves, kneading her womanly shape. She was falling down, down, swallowed once again by the mindless demands he so expertly aroused.
He broke away again, leveling a searching look deep into her soul. “It is as before, Alayna. You will have to say me yea before I will take you. I have made a vow not to take an unwilling bride to the marriage bed, and so I ask you now—do you consent?”
Would he truly always leave her alone as he had promised? she wondered. Is that not what she wanted? If so, why did she not speak the word and gain tonight another reprieve?
“Why do you hesitate?” he prodded. “Can it be that you are considering the benefits of my bed?”
“Nay, you braying ass!” she exclaimed sharply, unnerved. Lucien only smiled ruefully.
“Before you decide, my cold, cold wife,” he said bitterly, “let me give you a sample of the delights you decline.” With that, he pulled her back into his arms. His kiss was now passionate and demanding, swiftly taking her over. Then suddenly, he released her. As she stumbled back from the unexpected absence of support, he swept her shift neatly over her head, leaving her naked before she realized what was happening.
“I am improving,” he commented, noting the intact shift as he tossed it aside. He pulled her back to be kissed. His hands roamed freely, shockingly, over her silken flesh. He cupped one breast, drawing his thumb over its taut peak in agonizing excitement. She whimpered and tried to wrest herself away though she was not at all sure she wanted to be free.
His mouth left hers to follow where his hands had been, capturing the hardened nipple in his mouth. She stopped struggling, suddenly going limp. Tangling her hands in his long hair, she held him close as he swirled his tongue in a wicked caress. Her knees buckled, and if not for his strong arms, she would have fallen.
He pressed his advantage and slid lower, bending over her as he pressed her down on the bed. She felt as if she were floating in a maelstrom of sheer sensation, all thought suspended. He was sweeping away her will with each passing moment.
His breath was ragged, his voice a hoarse whisper in her ear. “What say you?”
Alayna felt ravaged, neglected, angry and impatient all at once. Her body screamed for something she did not understand. Yet she despised him all the more for having this power over her. “You know my answer.”
Lucien shoved her from him roughly as if in disgust When he turned away, she made to retrieve her shift, but Lucien’s voice shot out with a sharp denial.
“Your pride was indulged quite enough this evening, you’ll not be permitted another allowance. Your perversity surprises me, Alayna. In your efforts to deny me my rights as your husband, you treat yourself badly, for you deny your own pleasure, as well. Do you not wonder what lies beyond the touching? Have you not thought that there is fulfillment in what is aroused between us? I will tell you that there is, sensations you have probably never dreamed existed.” He considered her callously for a moment. “But not for you, my ice maiden, for the cold grip of pride cannot be melted by mere kisses. But I will not be denied all of my rights, so leave off the shift and climb into bed beside me.” He looked away, fighting visibly with his anger. “We will continue to test this cursed pride that afflicts us both.”
She buried herself under the furs quickly, squeezing her eyes shut as he disrobed. As he lay beside her, she held her breath. Moments passed. He made no move for her.
The morn dawned clear and the yellow rays of sunlight invaded the room through the slivers between the window’s shutter boards. Alayna nuzzled sleepily into the warmth against her side, sighing in her sleep in oblivious contentment.
Awake beside her, Lucien smiled to himself as she pressed her cheek to his shoulder, arching her back to mold her body to his side. His body was responding to her unwitting sensuality, but he kept still, savoring the feel of her against him and anticipating the moment she would wake to find herself clinging to him like a lazy kitten. He was not going to rob himself of that bit of pleasure by his growing impatience.
She roused, stretching languorously before opening her eyes to stare full into his face, not more than a breath away. Her eyes focused, widened, and just at the moment when she made to push away, Lucien tightened his grip to keep her at his side.
“Good morn, my love,” he drawled.
“What are you doing?” she sputtered.
“Why nothing, my little love pet, just sleeping when suddenly I was wakened by the impertinent press of you against me. I confess, it did shock me, but I must admit I was not displeased.”
She was incredulous. “You are lying, sir, for I would never voluntarily touch you, even while asleep.”
“And yet you have the evidence before you,” he said, smiling.
“’Tis some trick.”
He studied her eyes, sparkling like green crystals and fringed heavily with black lashes, seeming as if they could look clear through to a man’s soul.
“Why do you fight me, Alayna, when you know your body craves what I can give you?”
“You are despicable!” she gasped, trying anew to free herself, though still to no avail.
“Do you wish me to test you?” he rumbled dangerously.
Before she could cry out her refusal, his hand reached out to bare a breast. She tried desperately to cover herself, but he easily caught her hands in his and held them out of the way. Her eyes flickered to his face, blanching when his hand covered her exposed flesh. He watched her eyes grow dark as he crooked his forefinger and gently grazed a knuckle over the sensitive peak. She bit her lip, but otherwise made no move or sound.
Alayna forced herself to lie still. She must not allow him to affect her this time.
She could have succeeded if his hands had not begun their rousing travels, sliding smoothly over her flesh to create shivery flutters to wash over her. Her body was alive suddenly and her will to resist drained away with unbelievable swiftness.
He bent over her, bringing his mouth to pause just before hers so that it was she who closed the breach, reaching up hungrily for the offered kiss.
“Say it,” he murmured.
It was nearly impossible to stifle the words as they welled up in her throat, but she could never, never give him that.
“Nay, Lucien,” she whispered. “Do not ask it of me. Take what you want and leave me my dignity.”
He paused, the sound of his breathing labored as he fought for control. “You are a fool.”
With that, he rose abruptly, leaving her to gather her wits. He was dressed and out of the chamber quickly.
Lucien was nowhere about when she descended into the hall.
Alayna flung headlong into the arrangements for her second trip to the village, spending the better part of the day with the seneschal, Alwin, inventorying the castle stores. Though she had seen evidence before of Edgar du Berg’s great fondness for greedily amassing wealth, she was still stunned as she sorted through the excess and made her selections.
“I must ask my lord husband if he approves of my giving away so much,” Alayna said to her companion, thinking aloud as she planned.
“Lord Lucien left instructions that you were to be given freedom to choose whatever you require,” the kindly man announced with a broad smile. He had been Edgar’s man and, though he never said a word against his old master, it was clear that he held the new lord in high esteem. “Said he trusted you, he did.”
When she had recovered from her incredulity, she began to order the stock for her wagons with a renewed enthusiasm and the project was well on its way by the end of the day.
It was not until supper that she was told Lucien would not be returning for several nights. Pelly shyly informed her that his master and Agravar had ridden out with some of de Montregnier’s men to clear the forest of a band of thieves who had been nesting there. She was assured he would return in time to escort her to the village as planned.
She was surprised at the sharp stab of disappointment. Ignoring it, she vowed to put this time to good use, determined to spend a good deal of it on her knees in the chapel praying for prudence. And chastity.
It was several days later when she was in the stables, speaking with the master of the horses about the proper number of mounts and wagons for her needs. Like the seneschal, the head groom had been instructed to cooperate fully with her. Unlike Alwin, however, the burly man had no patience with his new mistress.
“Seems like we should be worried about ourselves and not them folks down there,” he muttered under his breath after hearing her instructions.
“If not for those people down there tilling their fields, you would have nothing on your table!” Alayna snapped. “Nor would your lord. It serves him to see to their needs. Now do as I have told you and do not let me hear another complaint.”
He shrugged indolently, slouching away. “And another thing,” she called after him. “You may accompany us. Perhaps a closer look will teach you some Christian caring. If not, then some good hard labor will do you good.”
He turned away silently, kicking a wooden pail out of his way in disgust.
Alayna let out a long breath when he was gone, a bit amazed at the sharp rage that had come upon her. Sitting on a plank that had been placed over two crates, she rested her head against the wall. Perhaps she was overtired, she reasoned. The mission to the village had taken on a momentum she had not anticipated and she was busy with the preparations almost day and night. Yet neither her frenetic level of activity nor her fervent prayers for self-control had done anything to banish her unchaste thoughts. Dark eyes and a wild mane of hair haunted her mind like a demon torturing its poor victim.
A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. It was Will standing in the doorway.
“Will, did you wish to see me?” she asked.
The knight hesitated a moment. “Nay, lady, ’twas just that I was making sure you are well.”
Touched by his chivalry, she said, “That is kind of you, but unnecessary. I am sure that I am quite safe within these castle walls.”
He was visibly uncomfortable. “Just the same, I shall keep watch over you.”
It was his awkward manner more than his words that made her suspicious. “Did de Montregnier send you to spy on me?”
“He has asked me to see to your safety, aye.”
“Does your baron fear so much that I will attempt an escape that he must send you to mind me like a child?”
Will only shrugged, refusing to rise to her challenge.
She snorted. “I doubt ’tis my safety that worries him, but rather the notion that I may make good my intention to leave here as soon as I am able. God forbid it, that the great Lucien de Montregnier be robbed of one vestige of what Edgar once laid claim to. Never mind that I am a human being, a woman with feelings, and most notable among these sentiments is loathing for that arrogant man!”
She sprang to her feet and stomped a few paces away, jamming her fists down on her hips while she seethed at the audacity of de Montregnier. To put a guard on her!
Will ignored her distraction. “Alayna,” he said softly. “I would speak to you.”
She blinked. “Aye?”
He hesitated, as if he were wrestling with a great decision. “I know you are unhappy. Lucien…he treats you badly. I beg you to consider an alternative.”
“Alternative?”
He paused for a heartbeat. “Me.”
“What?” she exclaimed.
“Think what I am offering. I would protect you, take you away. Surely you have noticed my admiration. If things had been different, I would have wooed you myself. As it is, I cannot stand by and see you so miserable. What I am trying to tell you, Alayna, is I care for you.”
“Please, speak no more,” she said, stepping away. She was married before God, no matter what her feelings were about it. She would not play Lucien false with another.
He reached out and closed his hand over her arm. “Alayna, do not dismiss me so quickly. Think on it, on what I can offer.” Their gazes locked for a swift moment before he pulled her to him and kissed her, all of his longing, all of his need pouring out in that stolen embrace.
She held herself stiff and unyielding in his arms until he released her. Breaking free from his relaxed grip, she wiped her hand across her mouth.
“Do you seek to dishonor me, Will?”
“Nay,” he breathed. His blue eyes blazed with his desire, but his voice remained sober. “I have never been a man of honor—I have no illusions about myself. I am a soldier for hire, a mercenary. I was employed by de Montregnier to help him gain this land. But you see, I found I wanted to serve as a knight should, out of loyalty, not money. Then, he had to marry you, and he does not even cherish you as you deserve.”
He looked away as if he could not bear the sight of her any longer. “I would honor you, and love you with all of my heart.”
“No, Will. True, my lot with Lucien is not to my liking, but running away with you would not be right.”
He looked crestfallen, smiling sadly as he turned back to her. “I should not have spoken.”
As he made to leave, Alayna placed her hand on his arm. “Do not brood on this, Will. I will speak of it to no one. But know this. You are dear to me, but I do not love you, and if I were not the wife of your lord, I would still decline your troth. I love no man.”
“Do you not?” he asked mysteriously.
“I will leave de Montregnier when the time comes.”
Will regarded her for a moment before speaking. “I compromised you in a way no gentleman should a lady. I was selfish when I sought you for myself, and you were right to turn me away.” He gave her a long look. “I knew what it would do to Lucien should you come to me, yet I risked it.”
“Oh, certainly, it would goad him into quite a fit to be cheated of the least of his prizes.”
“Alayna, are you so blind? It would devastate him.” His voice was choked with guilt. “You see what a knave I am?”
“Nothing would devastate de Montregnier,” she snorted, “least of all a woman, and certainly not me.”
Will only shook his head slowly. “Come, let us get inside before someone finds us and starts to gossip. We will do as you say and forget this unfortunate conversation.”
He followed her back to the main building where they entered the castle in silence. Alayna headed straightaway to the chamber that was hers and Lucien’s. She was distracted and troubled, but not by Will’s imprudent actions.
She could think of only one thing as she wandered around the empty room, feeling an inexplicable press of loneliness. Will had kissed her, taken her fully into a passionate embrace.
And she had felt nothing.
What was wrong with her that a man of gentleness and courtly manners, handsome and pleasant, who by rights would make any maid swoon, interested her not in the least? Instead, she was susceptible to a brooding cur who loved to bait and mock her, who brutishly forced her to submit to his amorous assaults in the hopes of wresting the ultimate victory from her. De Montregnier was right on one account—she was perverse!