The Taming (12 page)

She opened her eyes to look at him and saw the softness in his eyes and suddenly she knew why she had agreed to marry him. She had sensed that under his toughness, under his hard outer shell, was a softness he had never let anyone see. A shudder passed through her body as she thought of the pain this man must have experienced in his life to make him into the cold, unfeeling man he showed to the world. But somehow she sensed that the Rogan the world saw was not the inner man.

I love him, she thought. I love him with all my soul and all my being, and so help me God, I am going to make him love me too.

She put her hand to his jaw, felt the whiskers there, soft now from days without shaving as he seemed to shave only once a week. I'm going to make you need me, she said to herself. And I'm going to make you feel safe enough that I can see the softness in your eyes even when I have clothes on.

The last made her smile and she rolled her body toward his. He held her to him and she could feel his rising passion as his hands stroked her back, then his mouth took hers and he kissed her deeply. His lips ran down her throat and at last to her breast. Liana arched backward and let out a little cry of pleasure.

Rogan was aware of her reactions, and because of the episode in the tub, he was able to control his own need for her. The women he'd had had either been frightened virgins or very willing, experienced women, and always they had wanted to please him. Of course none of them had offered to bathe him, nor had any of them left paper and pens in his room. Perhaps it was merely a wish to repay a debt, but he was enjoying feeling this woman squirm beneath his searching hands. Her pleasure was giving him pleasure.

His lips followed his hands down her body and he found the smell of her and the taste of her sweet and fresh, so unlike the Days, who sometimes smelled so bad he kicked them out of bed. This girl smelled like wood smoke and herbs.

When his head came back up to her lips, he was amazed at how much he wanted her. Her hands clutched at his shoulders and when he entered her, she rose to meet him with a force and power to match his.

Never had he spent such a time in bed with a woman! She was lusty beyond all belief, at one point pushing him to his back and climbing on top of him, her hair wrapping around the two of them like a soft yet strong prison.

Rogan had never considered the woman's pleasure before, but this woman, with her moans and groans, her movements here, her movements there, sent his own pleasure into a fevered pitch until he thought he might die. When he finished at long last, it was an earth-shattering experience to him, affecting him from his toes to the top of his head.

He collapsed on the girl and instead of pushing her away, as he usually did to the women he bedded, he clutched her to him as if he were drowning and she were a buoyant log.

Liana snuggled against him. He seemed to pour over her body as if he were sauce over a pudding. She had never felt so good in her life. “That was wonderful,” she whispered. “That was the best thing that has ever happened to me. I knew marriage to you would be like this.”

Rogan released his hold on her and moved to the far side of the bed, but Liana moved with him, her head on his shoulder, her arm across his chest, her thigh across his. She was happier than she'd ever been, happier than she'd thought possible.

She had no idea of the turmoil that was coursing through Rogan. He wanted to get away from her, yet he couldn't move.

“What did your brother William look like? Did he have red hair like yours?” she asked.

“I don't have red hair,” Rogan said indignantly.

“In the sunlight your head looks as if it's on fire,” Liana retorted. “Was William like you?”

“Our father had red hair, but I inherited my mother's black hair.”

“So both of you had red hair, then.”

“I don't—” Rogan said, then stopped and he almost smiled. “On fire, eh?” Every other woman he'd had had told him he had black hair without a trace of his father's red. That was what he'd wanted them to say and therefore they had.

“What about your other brothers? Were they redheads too?”

He thought of his now-dead brothers, remembering the youth of them, the strength of them. How well they could fight! He never thought he'd someday be the oldest Peregrine and have the responsibility of it all. “Rowland, Basil, and James had a dark mother, so they all had black hair.”

“And what of Severn and Zared?”

“Severn's mother was a blonde like…” He trailed off. She had taken his hand in hers and now lay there looking at his fingers, entwining hers with his. It was such an odd thing to do, he thought. He should push her out of bed and get some sleep rather than talk to her about painful memories. But remembering his brothers as alive was not painful.

“Like me,” Liana said, smiling. “And she was Zared's mother also? But Zared is such a dark young man.”

Liana did not see Rogan smile in the dim light. “Yes, indeed. Zared is dark because of a dark mother. Severn's mother died giving birth to him.”

“So your father had four wives and seven sons?”

Rogan hesitated before answering. “Yes.”

“It must have been good to have brothers. I often wished for another child to be born to my mother. Did you often play together, or were you fostered out to other people?” She felt him stiffen beneath her and wondered what she'd said wrong.

“There was no play in our lives, nor did we foster.” His voice was cold. “We trained for war from the time we could stand. The Howards killed William when he was eighteen, James and Basil at twenty and twenty-one, and they killed Rowland two years ago, before he was thirty. Now I must protect Severn and Zared.” He took her shoulders and lifted her to look into her eyes. “
I
killed James and Basil. I killed them over a woman, and I'll die before I let it happen again. Get away from me, and stay away from me.”

He shoved her back into the feather mattress, then got out of bed and began tugging on his clothes.

“Rogan, I didn't mean—” Liana began, but he was already gone. “Damn, damn, damn,” she said, slamming her fist into the pillow, then she turned onto her back and stared at the white-painted ceiling. What had he meant that
he
killed his brothers? And over a woman? “
What
woman?” she said aloud. “I'll have her for breakfast.”

The thought comforted her and the thought of there being tomorrow night also calmed her. But most of all, she thought of winning her wager. If the peasants turned over the thieves to her, Rogan would be her slave for an entire day. What would she do with him? Have him make love to her all day? Perhaps just to have him stay with her for a day would be enough. Stay with her and answer her questions, maybe. She drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Liana rose early, meaning to find her husband, but the sight belowstairs made her temporarily forget Rogan. No one was in the Lord's Chamber, so she went down the stairs and outside and took the stairs leading to the retainers' hall. She had not been in this area before, but she was not surprised to find it as filthy as the other part of the castle had been. In the enormous hall, twice as big as the Lord's Chamber, sat about two hundred men at greasy tables on slimy benches eating sand-filled bread and drinking sour wine. No one paid any attention to her when she entered, but they continued scratching, shouting, swilling, belching, and breaking wind.

Liana's good mood and sense of accomplishment left her. Quietly, she left the hall and went outside into the sunlight.

Severn was standing near the south wall stroking the breast of a big peregrine falcon.

“Where is my husband?” she asked.

“Rode out for Bevan this morning,” Severn answered, not looking up.

“Bevan? Where your family was starved?”

Severn gave her a quick glance and put the bird on its perch. “That's the one.”

“When will he return?”

Severn shrugged and walked away.

Liana followed him, lifting her skirts so she could hurry. “He just rode out? No word to anyone? He didn't tell anyone when he planned to return? I want you to give the men permission to drain the moat.”

Severn stopped, turned, and looked down at her. “Drain the moat? Are you crazy, woman? The Howards could—”

“Walk across the thing as it is now,” Liana said, glaring up at him. “When will my husband return?”

The stern expression left Severn's face and his eyes began to twinkle. “My brother rode out of here before dawn, saying only that he was going to Bevan Castle. If you asked him to order the moat drained, I imagine that had something to do with his leaving.”

Liana didn't say a word.

“Scared to, eh?” Severn said, beginning to smile.

Liana couldn't stop the blood from creeping into her face, as he had guessed correctly.

“I'm not about to give permission and have Rogan come back and see the moat empty,” Severn said, and turned away again.

Liana stood staring after him. It upset her that Rogan was gone, but she thought she could perhaps more easily put the castle and the village in order if he weren't there. Severn was a much softer man than Rogan was, she could see that, and she thought perhaps there was a way to persuade Severn, a way she had used to persuade her father to do anything she wanted: food.

Liana sent Joice to fetch her precious recipe book, then Liana straightened her headdress and went up the stairs to the kitchen rooms.

 

It was late that night when Liana climbed alone into her bed. She was exhausted but happy too, for she now had permission to have a ditch dug to drain the filthy moat.

It had taken all day, but she'd managed to get the kitchens and the retainers' hall somewhat clean and she'd laid before Severn and the Peregrine knights a banquet fit for a king. She'd served roasted beef, pink and juicy, capon in orange sauce, rabbit cooked with onions and raisins, spinach and cheese tarts, eggs in mustard sauce, spiced pears, mince pies, and apple mousse.

By the time Severn and his men stopped gorging themselves, Liana knew she could have anything she wanted from them. Patting his swollen belly, Severn not only agreed to her request, he offered to help dig. She'd smiled and said that wouldn't be necessary, then handed him a plate heaped high with sweet jellied milk cubes.

If only my husband were so easy to win, Liana thought as she sank wearily onto the feather mattress. She tried not to wonder what her husband was doing at Bevan Castle. Was he in the arms of another woman?

 

Rogan sat before the fireplace in Bevan Castle, as unaware of the filth and disrepair around him as he was at Moray Castle. He had eyes only for the pretty young peasant girl before him.

When he'd left Moray early that morning, he wasn't sure why he was leaving. He knew only that he'd awakened from sleep and his first thought was of that blonde-haired she-devil he'd married. He'd scratched at the fleas that had so willingly left the old mattress he'd slept on and jumped on his skin, and knew he wanted to put some distance and time between him and the girl.

He'd ordered some men to ready themselves and had ridden out, stopping in the village to pick up Thursday to take her with him. But Thursday had cringed and cried and begged him not to force her to go with him as the Fire Lady would kill her. Rogan had left the girl in disgust. He heard the same from Sunday and Tuesday, so he'd ridden with no woman to Bevan.

Bevan Castle was isolated atop a tall, steep hill, and before he began the climb, he stopped in the village below and took the first pretty, healthy-looking girl he saw and pulled her across his saddle. Now, the girl stood trembling before him.

“Stop shaking,” he commanded her, scowling. She was younger than he'd first imagined. He saw her shaking increase and his scowl deepened. “Come here and give me a kiss,” he ordered.

Tears began to run down the girl's face, but she stepped toward him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Rogan grabbed her greasy hair and pulled her mouth down to his and kissed her angrily. He felt the girl whimper under him. He released her, pushing her so she fell to the floor.

“Do not hurt me, please, my lord,” the girl begged. “I will do as you say, but please do not hurt me.”

Rogan's desire left him. He remembered too well a woman who was eager for him, a woman who didn't smell of grease and pig manure. “Get out of here,” he said under his breath. “Go before I change my mind!” he yelled when the girl was too frightened to move. He turned away as she scurried from the room.

Rogan went to one of the barrels along the wall and tapped a stream of dark, bitter beer into a dirty wooden mug. One of his knights lay sleeping nearby. Rogan kicked him in the ribs. “Get up,” he commanded. “And get some dice. I will need something to help me sleep tonight.”

L
iana put her hand to her aching back. Two long weeks Rogan had been gone, and in those two weeks she'd wrought miracles in the castle and the village. At first the peasants had been afraid to obey her, afraid of Lord Rogan's wrath, but when a few obeyed Liana and were not punished, the others began to believe in her.

Village houses were repaired, new clothes purchased, and animals slaughtered to feed the hungry people. By the end of the first two weeks, the peasants were looking at Liana as if she were an angel.

The cleaning of the village and castle gave Liana great satisfaction, except for one aspect: the number of red-haired children running about. At first she'd thought it was a coincidence that Rogan should have the same distinctive dark red hair as some of the villagers. It was when a little boy, about eight years old, looked up at her with the same hard eyes of her husband that Liana demanded to know who was the father of the boy.

The peasants around her stopped their tasks and stared at the ground in silence. Liana repeated her question, then waited. At last a young woman stepped forward. Liana recognized her as one of the Days, one of the women who used to sleep with Rogan.

“Lord Rogan is the father,” the woman said defiantly.

Liana felt the peasants around her cringe as if in anticipation of a blow. “How many of my husband's children are there?”

“A dozen or so.” The girl's chin came up a little higher. “And the one I'm carrying.”

Liana stood for a moment, unable to move or speak. She didn't know if she was angrier at her husband for having so many bastards or for leaving his own children to exist in poverty. She knew the peasants were watching her, waiting to see what she would do. She took a deep breath. “Gather the children and send them to me at the castle. I will see to their needs.”

“With their mothers?” the Day said, her voice and attitude showing she felt herself to be triumphant.

Liana glared at the girl. “You may choose to put your weaned child in my care or you may keep the responsibility of raising it. But no, I do not take on the mothers of the children.”

“Yes, my lady,” the girl said dutifully, bowing her head.

Near her, Liana heard a few women snicker in approval.

It was late when she left the village, and she wished she could crawl into bed beside Rogan. As usual, she began to daydream about what she would ask of him when he was her slave for a day. Perhaps she'd plan a meal served beside a stream, for just the two of them. Perhaps she'd make him
talk
to her. Just to have him spend a day with her, an
hour
with her, when they both had their clothes on would be an accomplishment. He seemed to put her in the same category as the Days—that she was to sleep with and nothing else.

The loudness of her horse's hooves on the wooden bridge over the now-empty moat brought her back to reality. Behind her rode the ever-present, silent Peregrine knights.

The castle grounds were almost clean now and Liana was able to walk up the stairs to the Lord's Chamber without tripping on refuse.

Once upstairs, she avoided Joice, who had a list of questions and complaints, and climbed upward to the bedchambers above. Several times in the last weeks Liana had sought out the Lady, the woman she'd met that first week, the woman who'd reminded her that men never fought battles over quiet, meek women, but each time the door to her room had been locked.

The upstairs rooms were clean now and a few of them were occupied by her maids, but for the most part they remained empty, waiting for the appearance of guests. At the end of the corridor was the locked door, only this time the door was standing open. Liana paused for a moment to watch the woman, the sunlight on her braided hair as she bent over on a tapestry frame.

“Good evening, my dear,” the woman said, turning and smiling pleasantly. “Please come in and shut the door. It makes a draft.”

Liana did as she was bid. “I have come to see you before, but you weren't here. Rogan has gone to Bevan Castle.” Once again, there was the feeling of having known this woman forever.

The woman separated strands of scarlet silk. “Yes, and you have a wager with him. He's to be your slave for a day?”

Liana smiled and walked toward the woman, looking over her shoulder at the fabric stretched on the frame. It was a tapestry-worked, almost-complete picture of a slim blonde lady with her hand on the head of a unicorn.

“She could be you,” the Lady replied, smiling. “What do you have planned for your day with Rogan?”

Liana smiled dreamily. “A long walk in the woods, perhaps. A day spent alone. No brothers, no castle duties, no knights, just the two of us. I want him to…to give me his full attention.” When the Lady didn't reply, Liana looked at her and saw the smile was gone. “You don't approve.”

“It's not for me to say,” she said softly. “But then I believe he and Jeanne used to take walks together.”

“Jeanne?”

“Jeanne Howard.”

“Howard!” Liana said, gasping. “The same Howards who are the sworn enemies of the Peregrines? I have heard little else since I was married—about how the Howards stole the Peregrine lands, killed the Peregrines, starved the Peregrines. Are you saying that Rogan once
courted
a Howard?”

“Rogan was once married to Jeanne before she was a Howard.”

Liana sat down on a window seat, the sun warm on her back. “Tell me all,” she whispered.

“Rogan was married to Jeanne Randel when he was only sixteen and she was fifteen. His parents and his brother William had been starved at Bevan the year before and the three oldest Peregrine sons were busy waging war on the Howards and so were too busy to marry themselves. They decided Rogan should marry, get a girl's dowry, and give them a few sons to grow to help them fight. Rogan fought against the marriage, but his brothers persuaded him.”

The Lady turned to look at Liana. “Rogan has known only hardship and pain in his life. Not all the scars on his body are from battles. His brothers and father put their share on him, too.”

“So they ‘persuaded' Rogan to marry?” Liana said softly.

“Yes, but he wasn't reluctant after he saw her. She was a pretty little thing, so quiet and soft-spoken. Her mother had died when she was quite young and as a ward of the king she was raised by nuns in a convent. Perhaps going from a convent to marrying a Peregrine was not the easiest thing a child ever did.”

The Lady looked at Liana, but Liana did not respond. This morning she'd discovered a dozen illegitimate children of her husband's and this evening she'd discovered he'd had another wife.

The Lady continued. “I think Rogan began to fall in love with her. He'd never had any softness in his life and I think Jeanne's gentleness fascinated him. I remember once they came back from a walk and they both had flowers in their hair.”

Liana looked away, not wanting the hurt on her face to be seen. He gave his first wife flowers and he couldn't remember the name of his second wife.

“They were married for about four months when the Howards took Jeanne. She and Rogan were alone in the woods. Rowland had told Rogan not to go out alone, but Rogan thought he was immortal, that when he was with Jeanne, nothing could harm him. I believe they'd been swimming and…”—the Lady looked at Liana's stricken face—“…and napping when Oliver Howard's men set upon them and took her. Rogan couldn't get to his sword, but he managed to pull two Howards off their horses. He strangled one of them before the others could pull him away. I'm afraid that one of the Peregrines had just killed Oliver's younger brother and Oliver was in a vile mood. He had his men hold Rogan while he shot three arrows into him, not to kill him but to show Oliver's power. Then Oliver and his men rode away with Jeanne.”

Liana stared at the woman, imagining the awful scene. “And what did Rogan do?” she whispered.

“Walked back to the castle,” the Lady said. “Four miles, with three dripping wounds, he walked back to his brothers. He went with them the next day when they attacked the Howards. He rode with them and fought with them, until, on the third day, he fell off his horse, burning with fever. When he was sensible again, it was nearly two weeks later and his brothers Basil and James were dead.”

“He said he killed his brothers,” Liana said softly.

“Rogan has always taken his responsibilities very seriously. He and Rowland and young Severn fought the Howards for over a year. The Peregrines did not have the strength or the money to properly attack the Howard castle and it is a vast, strong place, so they fought however they could, stealing Howard supplies, burning the peasants' houses, poisoning what water they could reach. It was a bloody year. And then…” the Lady trailed off.

“And then what?” Liana encouraged.

“And then Jeanne returned to Rogan.”

Liana waited, but the Lady said no more. Her needle flew lightning-fast in and out of the tapestry silk. “What happened when Jeanne returned?”

“She was six months' pregnant with Oliver Howard's child and very much in love with him. She came to Rogan to beg him to give her an annulment so she could marry Oliver.”

“That poor boy,” Liana said at last. “How could she do that to him? Or did Oliver Howard force her to come to him?”

“No one had forced Jeanne. She loved Oliver, and he, her. In fact, Oliver had forbidden her to go to Rogan. Oliver planned to kill the husband of the woman he loved. I think Jeanne must have felt something for Rogan because I think her visit saved his life. Rogan came home after he saw Jeanne, and while Rogan petitioned for the annulment, the Peregrines and the Howards did not war with each other.'

Liana stood and walked to the far side of the room. She was silent for quite some time. At last she turned back to look at the Lady. “So Rogan and Jeanne used to walk in the woods together, did they? Then I shall plan a celebration. We will dance. I will have singers and acrobats and—”

“As you did at your wedding?”

Liana stopped talking and remembered her wedding day, when Rogan had ignored her. “I want him to spend time with me,” she said. “He doesn't notice me except in bed. I want to be more to him than…than a day of the week. I want him…”

“You want what from him?”

“I want what that slut Jeanne Howard had and threw away!” Liana said violently. “I want Rogan to love me.”

“And you are going to accomplish this with walks in the woods?” The Lady seemed amused.

Liana suddenly felt very tired. Her dream of a husband who walked with her and held her hand was not the man who, after being shot with three arrows, continued to fight for days. She remembered Zared's saying Rogan was in his brooding room. Well, no wonder he brooded; no wonder he never smiled; no wonder he wanted nothing to do with another wife.

“What do I do?” she whispered aloud. “How do I show him I'm no Jeanne Howard? How do I make a man like Rogan love me?” She looked to the Lady and waited.

But the Lady shook her head. “I have no answer for you. Perhaps it is an impossible task. Most women would be content with a husband who did not beat them and who used other women's bodies for their needs. Rogan will give you children, and children can be a great comfort to a woman.”

Liana's mouth tightened. “Children who can grow up to fight and die for the Howards? Am I to stand by and watch while my husband points to the horses' skulls and teaches my children to hate? Rogan drains all income from me, from the peasants, from wherever he can get it, in order to make war machines. His hatred is more to him than any life on earth. He breeds sons on the peasant girls, then leaves the boys to starve. If for one day he could forget the Howards, forget that now he is the oldest Peregrine. If he could just
see
how his hatred is causing the slow death of his people, then he might—” She stopped, her eyes wide.

“He might what?”

Liana's voice was low. “Weeks ago the peasants asked my permission to celebrate St. Eustace's day. Of course I gave permission. If Rogan could see these people, talk to them…If perhaps he could see his own children…”

The Lady was smiling now. “He has rarely been away from his family, and I doubt if he will agree to spending the day alone with you. Once, when he was alone, his wife was taken and that eventually led to the death of his two brothers. No, he will not readily agree to whatever you request of him.”

The Lady looked at the door and listened. “I believe I hear your maid searching for you. You must go now.”

“Yes,” Liana said, distracted, her thoughts on what they'd talked about. She moved to the door then turned and looked back. “May I see you again? Your door is often locked.”

The Lady smiled. “Whenever you need me, I will be here.”

Liana smiled in return and left the room. She heard the lock turn in the door as soon as it closed. She wanted to knock on the door. There were questions she'd meant to ask the Lady, but she never seemed to remember them when she was in that room.