Defy Not the Heart (12 page)

“Wait—”

“Are you a virgin?”

He did not wait for an answer. She knew he did not care if she was or not, and that hurt. Obviously he had decided that if he must do this, to get it over with as quickly as possible. Why else would he slash his mouth across hers for one measly second, then climb atop her the next? Well, she could assume that attitude, too. Best to have done with it right quickly, to find out how much she would have to fear of it next time—if there was a next time.

Reina braced herself to be crushed, but was not. Instead she felt his entry, and it did not rip her asunder, but was smooth and easy. Had staring at him done that, got her juices flowing without his even touching her? She was amazed, and felt a fluttering niceness like nothing she had ever felt before.
Then
she was ripped asunder.

Her scream was cut in half by the return of his bruising lips. How he managed to reach her lips and thrust into her at the same time, she did not know. Perhaps because most of his height was in his long legs. Perhaps because his back was bent over her; she was still not crushed as she had expected to be. Just her lips. He could use some lessons in that area. But in other areas…sweet
Jesú
, what was that she was feeling now? Whatever it was, she was left to wonder about it. Her husband, with a loud roar, was done.

R
eina moved carefully in taking inventory ere she got up, but she was not really battered. Her lips were a mite tender, and there was a definite soreness between her legs, but naught had been broken when Ranulf had collapsed on her for those few moments after he reached his pleasure.

But she had been misled. Wenda said it was wonderful. Eadwina must think so, too, to like doing it so often. Reina would not call what she had experienced wonderful, but it certainly was not as terrible as she had thought it would be with a giant. With the rending of her maidenhead behind her, she supposed she had naught left to fear from this business of coupling, but there was naught to recommend it either.

She dressed quickly while her husband slept on. Staring at him in that helpless state was not conducive to clear thinking, and she had much to consider, particularly what she would tell Lord Simon, who was likely to be at Clydon when they returned.

It was the stirrings of the camp that had woken her, and stepping outside the tent, she saw there was activity everywhere as nigh a hundred men broke their fast and prepared for another day’s march. She found some bushes to relieve herself whilst no one was paying attention, and when she returned, Lanzo approached her with a cup of ale and a chunk of day-old bread.

She thanked the boy but offered him no smile, and he quickly retreated. He might be learning skillful arms under Ranulf’s tutelage, but knightly courtesies were sadly lacking. It would do no harm for either squire to think she was still displeased with him for his part in her abduction. Both must become aware that the arts of warfare were not all that made a knight. The social skills and graces must be learned, as well as the courtesies due a lady, especially the treatment of a lady at all times. Those courtesies were due even during an abduction, but they had not been accorded her.

She was approached again, this time by Ranulf’s fickle cat, who once again rubbed up against Reina’s legs. “So, ’tis to be that way, is it?” Reina frowned down at the animal. “Think you I am not wise to your ploys?”

She got a meow in answer; then the creature bounded off toward Lanzo, who had just set down a tin of scraps for it. Reina shook her head, not sure whether she wanted to play silly games with a cat. She supposed she might have to, if her husband intended to bring the animal home with them.

She then heard rumblings from the tent and returned to it. Ranulf squinted up at her as she opened the flap, letting in the bright sunshine of a beautiful spring morn.

“Where is Lady Ella?” he asked in a grouchy tone.

Reina stiffened. “I was not aware there was another lady in camp.”

“My cat,” he clarified.

“Oh,” Reina said dumbly, then, “You named your cat
Lady
Ella?”

“Aye.”

Reina was treated to the first really pleasant expression she had seen on her husband. Whether it could actually be termed a smile, she was not sure, but ’twas devastating to behold.

“Her namesake is the cleverest cat I know,” he continued. “So it suited.”

She now had to wonder who this namesake Ella was, but she was not about to ask him. He obviously did not think highly of her.

“Your Ella—”

“Lady Ella—”

“
Lady
Ella is breaking her fast,” Reina gritted out. She was insulted to give that scrawny creature a title,
her
title, but was not ready to have her first argument with her new husband. “Do you wish me to summon your squire so you may—”

“Not yet.”

He sat up as he interrupted her, so that the blanket fell to his lap. Reina looked away. That wide expanse of golden chest was like a magnet for her eyes, but she staunchly resisted the pull.

“Take off your clothes.”

Her eyes flew back to him, wide in disbelief. “I did not hear you aright.”

“Aye, you did.” His tone was mellow for all its deepness. “I wish to know if I was dreaming last eventide, if I really did bed you.”

“You have only to look beside you at the sheets to see that you did indeed bed me.”

He did, and swore at the size of the bloodstain there. “Christ’s toes, have I killed you?”

“Hardly,” Reina replied, bringing those violet eyes back to her. “Do I look dead?”

That brought a frown. “What you look like is the
lady I wed. What I want to know is if I dreamed what you look like beneath those clothes. Do you get them off and right quickly, or I will—”

“Stay where you are!” she ordered in her most authoritative voice when he threw back the blanket. It was an effort to keep her eyes on his face, but she managed. “Before you get more silly with this notion of yours, recall what must be done today. If we do not ride, and soon, leaving the foot soldiers to follow at their own pace, we will not reach Clydon while ’tis still light enough for me to be easily recognized. I will have enough trouble explaining to Lord Simon, who is like to be there, why I wed the very man who made off with me. I do not also want trouble getting into my own castle just because you chose to dally this morn and we do not arrive before dark.”

He said nothing for several long moments, just stared at her. Then he finally shrugged. “Very well, I suppose it can wait until this eventide.”

That is what
he
thinks, Reina said to herself as she escaped the tent with relief. She had every intention of doing as she had originally planned and sleeping in her own chamber until the second wedding. Until Sir Henry came and accepted Ranulf’s fealty to Shefford,
she
did not consider herself truly wed, bedding or not.

As it happened, Reina changed her mind about what she would tell Simon Fitz Osbern and her other vassals. She told Ranulf her reasons as she rode before him on his huge destrier, denied her own horse because he did not trust her yet. He wanted her within reach in case she tried turning her people against him. And since he would be returning to Clydon with only
his men who were mounted, she did not try to convince him his fears were groundless. He would have to see for himself that she was now committed to their marriage and had no plans for doing away with him.

But as for her vassals, she made Ranulf see that it would be easier to convince them that marriage to him was what she wanted if they thought it had not been done yet. To say she had willingly married him so quickly would be to cast doubt on her willingness with the deed done and too late to rectify. She wanted her vassals to accept him without reservation, and they were more apt to do that if she informed them Ranulf was the man she
wanted
to marry, then proceeded to do so.

He agreed, if grudgingly, but of course to his way of thinking, he had the copies of the marriage contract to produce if she had tried anything underhanded. He had to tell his men, all of whom knew she had spent the night in his tent, but they none of them objected to pretending the wedding had not yet taken place.

Reina hoped she had every probability covered, but she could not be sure. It was not easy to think clearly with those thick, hard arms on either side of her, and then, too, she was still shaken and confused from the morning’s incident.

She could not reason why it would now matter to her husband what she looked like naked. It was not as if he still had the option to repudiate her if he found her body unacceptable. That chance was lost when he took her maidenhead. So why embarrass her by making her disrobe? Did he like what he had seen? Was he appalled? Did he just want verification, or did he feel annoyed that he simply could not remember?

That he was not sure if he had dreamed his taking of her or not was annoying to
her
, as well as insulting. It might not have been pleasant to her, but she would like to feel she had shared the experience. Obviously she had not. If she had known Ranulf was so sotted with drink he knew not what he was doing, mayhap she could have put him off—or mayhap not. Yet ’twas done, too late to speculate over. All she could do was brood about it, and make sure he was not drunk the next time.

R
anulf remained silent throughout the numerous effusive welcomes his wife was receiving, all cut short as soon as it was noticed who held her. He did not like leaving so many dumbstruck people behind him as they advanced through one gatehouse, then the other, cutting off his retreat, but it could not be helped. He did not actually grow uneasy until they had reached the inner court, where more than a hundred men-at-arms waited, and at least fifteen knights, some merely wearing swords, some fully armored, some still hurrying down the stairs of the keep, all obviously only just warned the lady had returned.

“Be easy, my lord,” Reina said quietly to him when he halted his destrier to face this small army. “’Tis merely two of my vassals with their knights and men. I told you I had sent for Lord Simon, telling him about the attack. He no doubt picked up Sir John on his way here.”

“John, your hoped-for betrothed?”

“Nay, my vassal, John Radford. He is a man set in his ways, inflexible even, so his first impression of you is the one he will adhere to. Three knights are his, and twenty of the soldiers. The rest are Simon’s men, though I see Sir Meyer has returned. He is the household knight I sent to assist my bailiff. He and Sir Arnulph have been with us nigh on four years now. Both have given excellent service, but as they
are retainers, ’twill be your decision if their terms are to be renewed or not.”

“You want no say in that?”

“It would be nice did you ask my opinion on anything you are not sure of,” she replied, “but nay, the final decision is henceforth yours.”

“And is that your Lord Simon stomping toward us with his hand on his sword?”

Reina flinched at his suddenly aggressive tone. “Aye, but do you let me handle this. ’Twould help if you set me down and took your hands off me so they do not think I am still your prisoner.”

“Is that an order, lady?”

“I would not presume to order you, my lord.”

“Oho,” he grunted. “Like you did not do this morn in my tent?”

She blushed at that reminder, just in time for Simon to see, which did not help at all. But Ranulf did dismount and lift her down in front of him. And he did keep his hands off her, though ’twould be no hard thing to change that with as close as he stood behind her.

“Lady Reina, you are not hurt?” Simon asked immediately he reached her.

“Not in the least,” she replied with a smile. “If you must know, Simon, ’twas a high adventure I quite enjoyed.”

Ranulf at that point met the man’s blue eyes, which were not unfriendly yet, though not easy either. He was a man of middle years, robust of health and frame, but only of medium height, which meant he had to look up to Ranulf, far up, a fact no man of rank liked.

Since he was studying Ranulf, Reina quickly intro
duced them. “Let me make known to you Sir Ranulf Fitz Hugh. Sir Ranulf, my liege man, Lord Simon Fitz Osbern.”

“But is he not the man who—”

She cut him off swiftly with the assurance, “That was all a mistake, Simon. He did not take me for himself but for a Lord Rothwell, who had lied to him, claiming I was his betrothed and had refused to wed him. Naturally, as soon as I informed Sir Ranulf that I had never even heard of this Rothwell, he was honorbound to bring me home. ’Twas no fault of his that he was misled by a craven lord who thought to have me at any cost. Rothwell is no different than de Rochefort, and I am glad you answered my summons so quickly, for we need to discuss what to do about my presumptuous neighbor, though I am inclined to let the matter be with my wedding pending—which we also need to discuss.” When his eyes returned suspiciously to Ranulf, she added, “When did you arrive?”

“This morn, to be given that letter that was left behind,” Simon replied surlily.

“Oh, that,” she said with a forced grin. “Come now, Simon, admit ’twas cleverly done and it worked, but not a word of it was true. Look at him. Does he look like a man who would kill a defenseless woman just to avoid a little skirmish? I would have been perfectly safe had you followed, though ’tis well you did not, for de Rochefort is likely watching Clydon for another opportunity, and ’tis not likely he knew I was absent, leaving after matins as we did. I cannot tell you how much I had worried over that, and how it eased my mind, hoping you were here to defend against another attack.”

He took her soothing and pacifying words as they were intended, relieving his guilt that he had done naught to get her back, and praising him for doing naught to get her back.

“Come, John, Meyer.” She beckoned the other two knights forward. “I would have you meet the man who has given up a fortune just on a lady’s word. This is Ranulf Fitz Hugh.” And to Simon: “He did not have to believe me, you know. ’Twas only my word against everything Lord Rothwell had told him.” She had to grin at that point, knowing without looking at him that Ranulf would not like what he was hearing, that doubt was rearing up in his mind as he wondered if she was the one who had lied. Mischievously, she waited a long moment before adding, “I am sure confirmation at this point would not be amiss. Do one of you gentlemen relieve Sir Ranulf’s mind. Am I, or was I ever, betrothed to a Lord Rothwell?”

There were three ready “Nays” to that, but it was John Radford, even older than Simon, who added gruffly, “She is to wed John de Lascelles, if the boy can ever find his way back to Clydon, which is become doubtful.”

“Do not be cruel,” Reina admonished gently. “Lord John has had his troubles, which have kept him from coming sooner. But as to wedding him, I have had a change of heart. Do you all come inside and we will discuss it over supper, but I really must let my ladies know I have returned safely, and see that my servants have not grown lax in my absence. Simon, do you assume my honor and introduce your men to my guests and make them welcome for me.” At last she turned to Ranulf. “I will join you in the
hall anon,” and then with a grin: “You may be sure my ‘soon’ is sooner than yours, my lord.”

She knew he hated to let her out of his sight, but there was naught he could do as she rushed up the stairs and into the keep. He was left standing amidst her men, and with the lady gone, the other knights converged on him. But he need not have worried. Her having informed Lord Simon that he and his men were guests and welcome was all that was necessary to assure there would be no antagonistic questioning. Simon did no more than she had bidden him, introducing the two groups of knights, then slowly leading the way into the keep, talking about anything and everything
except
the lady’s abduction.