Juliana Garnett (14 page)

Annice swept it all with a contemptuous glance. Did the beastly knave think to set all aright with the return of comforts that were the norm? Did he think removing her from
her small, dank chamber would earn him praise? He had best reconsider, she thought darkly. ’Twould take much more than he had shown her to raise her opinion of him to even the bottom level of the deepest moat. Nay, that black knight could not earn her high regard despite what he might do.

Yet even while she raged silently, pacing until her legs ached, Annice could not help but unwillingly recall things best forgotten. The touch of his mouth on hers had been unsettling, renewing sensations that she’d tried hard to ignore. That he had been so unmoved by what to her was a searing kiss was humiliating enough. But the fact that he had the effrontery to mock her for it made her cringe with shame. How could she have been so foolish as to yield for even one instant? She’d thought herself immune to him, thought herself so well armed against his arrogance and insolence that she could withstand anything he said.

She had not considered that he would taunt her for what she could not help. Ah, that her body had so betrayed her with even the slightest of responses to his touch was bad enough—that her dreams were haunted by him was even worse. God’s mercy that he did not know of that, or she was certain he would use it against her as well.

Tugging at the trailing cuffs of her sleeves, she ceased her pacing when she heard a knock at the door. Her heart leaped into her throat. She turned slowly as the door swung open, and her heart dropped back down to normal again. It was a dark-haired woman; from her dress and manner it must be the serving woman Rolf had promised.

“My name is Belle, milady,” she murmured in English, and Annice saw that she was little more than a girl. “I have been sent to thee.”

Smiling, she moved forward to greet the girl, who was staring shyly at the floor. She answered in English, “I am Lady Annice, Belle. I am pleased thou will be here to help me.”

Still shy, Belle wadded her hands in a fold of her skirt and mumbled, “ ’Tis said thou art to wed the lord soon. I can sew a fine seam, milady.”

“That talent will be sorely needed if I am to ready a
proper gown before the set day. Dost thou have any suggestions, Belle? I would gladly hear them, as I do not know what will be available to me.”

Looking rather startled, Belle nodded. “Aye, milady. From what Vachel said, thou art to have anything thou wish. I am but to fetch it for thee when thou bade me do so.”

“I see. Did Vachel also say how I am to know what there is to choose from?” When Belle shook her head, Annice sighed. “P’raps that is a problem we can solve on the morrow. For now, I am weary, and thou must be also. Tell Vachel that I will require thee to stay in my chambers with me, and prepare thee a pallet in my chamber. Doth that suit thee?”

“Aye, milady. It suits me very well.” Belle glanced around the chamber. “ ’Tis fortunate I am to be in Lord Rolf’s keep. He is ever the fairest lord … all strive for a place here. Afore, I worked in the kitchens. I am honored to be thy maidservant. I’ll try my best to please thee.”

“I’m certain thou will, Belle. There will be much to do in the coming days. When my own belongings arrive, I will need thee to assist me. I am well pleased to have such pleasant company and willing hands.”

“God’s mercy, milady,” Belle said, bending slightly in a small courtesy. “I shall do what I can to make thy days pleasant.”

As the girl looked up with a smile and soft brown eyes, Annice felt for an instant as if she was finally being made welcome in the dark Castle of Dragonwyck. P’raps ’twould not be as evil a place to dwell as she’d feared.

“Then please begin with a small task, Belle,” she said. “Remove those candlesticks from the chamber. The less I see of dragons, the better I will like it.”

Slanting her a curious glance, Belle moved toward the candlesticks Annice indicated. Shaped to the forms of rampant dragons, fangs bared and wings outspread, the cast-pewter candlesticks reminded her too greatly of her betrothed. Her dreams were filled enough with all things dragon—must she bear daily reminders?

When Belle returned from removing the candlesticks, Annice said with a wide smile, “Now, we shall deal quite
well together, I think. There is little enough to do in my days, and I am glad to have thee with me.”

Belle’s eyes shone with pleasure. “ ’Tis my honor, milady, to serve thee. Sir Guy hath told me thou wert a great and noble lady, and I maun do nothing to distress thee.”

“Did he?” Annice looked at the girl in surprise. “And what else did Sir Guy say?”

Belle looked away shyly. She fidgeted for a moment, then said to a spot on the floor, “Only that thou maun naught be made to feel unwelcome here, for ’twill be difficult enow for thee in the days to come.”

That was true enough. It did not take a soothsayer to predict turbulent times ahead for all of them. But did Sir Guy mean for England, or for the Dragon’s wife?

R
olf paused at the closed door of Annice’s chamber. He could feel the eyes of the guard flick nervously toward him, then away again, and knew that the man must be wondering what ailed his lord to make him prowl like an enraged wolf. Lifting his hand, Rolf jerked at the door latch, then swung it open with a hard shove.

The heavy oak door must have recently oiled hinges, for it flew back with a loud crash against the stone wall buttressing the doorjamb, drawing a scream from the maidservant attending Annice. The lady, however, was more composed. She sat in stiff, wide-eyed silence, a mass of amber silk material draped over her lap. In one hand she clutched a needle and length of thread poised over the silk.

Calmly, she punched the needle into the silk and set it aside, rising to her feet to face him. “I am honored to have you visit my chamber,” she said as if he had not just burst into the room. “May I offer you wine?”

He drew in a deep breath to calm his mounting anger.
Holding up a crumpled sheaf of parchment, he demanded, “Explain this, if you will, madam.”

Annice eyed the parchment with a faint expression of unease creasing her lovely face. “Ex-explain? I don’t know what you mean, my lord.…”

Taking a step forward, Rolf snarled, “The devil you say—do not think to play me for a fool. I am well aware of all that takes place in my keep. Did you think to slip this from my hall without my knowing about it? My people here are very loyal to me, little though you may credit it.”

Her chin lifted. “Do you truly think me witless, my lord? I have faults aplenty, God knows, but I would have to be blind and deaf not to have witnessed how you command loyalty from those who serve you. While you may not like the nature of my letter to my brother, I did not think you petty enough to deny me a last plea for clemency.”

Crumpling the letter in his hand, Rolf tried to stem his rising fury. “
Clemency?
P’raps you are confusing marriage with execution, milady.”

Annice’s eyes lowered, and she clasped her hands in front of her. At her feet the wide-eyed maidservant cowered like a hound afraid of a storm, and Rolf fought the urge to send her from the chamber with a few well-chosen words. It did not ease his temper when Annice murmured, “In this case I view marriage and execution in the same light, milord.”

“I see.” His voice cracked like a whip, and he saw the maidservant flinch as if struck. “You. Girl. Leave us,” he commanded, jerking his head toward the door when the maid raised wide eyes to his face. She did not wait for further commands but scrambled to her feet and fled without looking back.

Rolf waited until the door had slammed behind the girl to look back at Annice. Though white-faced, she did not quiver or utter a sound. Standing very still, she met his gaze with calm regard, blue eyes bright beneath the curve of her dark lashes.

“Madam,” he forced out in as civil a tone as he could manage, “you try my patience. Do you think me joyous at
the prospect of marriage to you? If so, you are much mistaken.”

“Yet you stand to gain, and I do not,” she interrupted in a frosty tone that should have left icicles hanging from the ceiling.

“I gain naught but a shrewish wife, it seems,” he shot back, infuriated by her cool regard. “Do you think I care for the lands you bring? I do not. But my king has decreed that we shall wed, and so we shall, whether either of us likes it or no.”

Her head tilted slightly to one side, and a faint frown puckered her brow. “Do you always agree with the king?”

“Nay. Rarely do I agree with the king,” Rolf said bluntly. “What has agreement to do with John? He does what he wishes even against strong advisement from those around him. But he is the king.”

“I find that attitude remarkable.”

“How so? Do you not find it more politic to keep your head? Wait—I forgot that you do not mind tweaking the nose of any man.”

Smiling faintly, Annice said, “Not quite true, my lord. ’Tis only your nose that I do not mind tweaking.”

Stung by her apparent disregard for him, Rolf took two steps forward. He grabbed her by the shoulders when she would have stepped back. His fingers tightened to hold her, bunching the material of her gown. He loosened his grip only slightly when he saw her wince.

“You sorely test me, madam. Do you think me so poor a man that I would allow you to taunt me?”

Shaking her head, Annice whispered, “Nay, lord. But neither am I so poor-spirited a woman that I would allow you to subdue me without a struggle. I have a mind and a will, and I have never yet given up control of either.”

“I do not demand control of your mind. I demand your respect.”

“Respect must be earned.” She looked up at him, eyes a deep, solemn blue that seemed to penetrate to his marrow. “One cannot command the sun to rise, nor the moon to shine. It comes as the natural order of things. So does my
respect for a man. If ever I give you my respect, my lord, you will have earned it, have no doubts.”

His fingers curled into the silk of her cotte. A wave of frustration washed over him. “If you think I will consider disobeying my king, do not be misled. Though I rarely agree with John, neither will I break a sworn oath. I paid him homage and swore fealty, and ’twill take an act of God to force me to break my oath.”

“An act of God?” Annice’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “More like an act of godlessness will turn men against the king. I have seen much, have had the king take my husband and my lands from me, and now you think that I wish for you to repudiate him? Nay, my lord, you completely misunderstand me. I do not care if you love the king or hate him. That has naught to do with me. What matters to me is the merit of a man. ’Tis shown in his deeds, not his words.”

“And my deeds are so few and shallow that I merit no respect?”

Rolf snarled the question at her and saw her eyes widen. It wasn’t what he’d meant to say. God only knew what he should have said—but he saw from her expression that he’d at least succeeded in frightening her again. That wasn’t the reaction he wanted. It galled him to know that the reaction he most wanted from her was one she would refuse to give.

Lowering her gaze, Annice was silent for a moment before saying softly, “Your valor and skill as a warrior have never been questioned. While those deeds command the respect I would give any brave knight of the realm, ’tis not those qualities that I admire most in a man.”

His grip tightened on her shoulders. “No? ’Twould fascinate me to learn what you do admire.”

“I hardly think so—”

“Yea, my lady. Humor me. Tell me what you admire most in a man.”

Stiffening beneath his hands, she said, “Honor.”

“And how do you define ‘honor,’ my lady? ’Tis different, I have learned, for a woman than it is for a man. Men tend to regard it as personal integrity that is not required by law or oath, but by nature. Women, however”—he paused, letting
the silence lengthen for a moment before finishing—“women tend to regard honor as a thing to be won or purchased, not inherent.”

She stared up at him. “P’raps the women you know have done so, milord, but not I.”

Rolf smiled slightly and shifted one hand from her shoulder to touch her cheek in a light caress. The skin was smooth and soft beneath the backs of his fingers, heated with her anger. “No?” he murmured. “I trow you would sell your honor quickly enough if offered the right price, milady.”

“There’s not enough gold in all of England to buy my honor,” she said shortly.

Rolf’s smile deepened. “Gold is not always the price required. Ofttimes it is vows of love, or worthless promises.”

“Love is worthless to you?” She turned her face slightly away from his caressing hand, and he let it drop to his side.

“Yea, more or less. No woman’s love has ever been worth more than the breath it takes for her to profess it. ’Twas the most difficult lesson I’ve learned, but I learned it well at an early age.”

“Then I pity you, my lord.” Annice looked back at him, eyes bright with some emotion he couldn’t define. “For if you have never loved a woman, you have never known what it is to be loved by a woman.”