Virginia Henley (19 page)

The head table was dominated by a large, ornately carved chair at the center. Beside it Ravenspur stood conversing with Tristan and Captain Kelly. As soon as she entered the hall, he raised his head and smiled his welcome to her. She wondered if the smile was for the benefit of those who watched them or for her alone. Before
she reached the dais, two servants came staggering in under the weight of a second ornately carved chair, which they placed beside the first. Ravenspur came to the edge of the dais to assist her to her place.

Close up, she saw that he was dressed in dark green. They looked like players on a stage who had been costumed in the same color because they were lovers. He raised both her hands to his lips, and the diners in the hall began to shout and whistle and stamp their feet. The hall was crowded tonight; even the windowsills were occupied by the younger pages and squires. Roger grinned at his people and Roseanna gave them a dazzling smile. Finally, when they would not quiet, Roger held up his hands for silence.

“For those of you who have not yet met her, I would like to present Lady Roseanna Montford, Baroness of Ravenspur.” They took up their cheering again, and Roseanna laughed happily. Every hand present raised a goblet to her. Again Roger held up his hands so they would listen. “This has been a bachelor’s stronghold for many years. I once swore that nothing would ever again compel me to take a wife, and I have remained unmarried for eight long years. Yet here I stand, a married man.” The laughter rolled around the hall. “How do I explain it?” he asked. “It was a
coup de foudre—
the stroke of lightning that changes everything. I saw her, and I was stunned as a bird that’s flown into a wall!”

They cheered and stamped their feet. Roseanna was thrilled and strangely moved by his words. “I want you to take her to your hearts—as I have.” His warm eyes caressed her; he raised his goblet to her, then drained it.

She held up her hand, and the crowd politely quieted for her. “I raise my goblet to you, the people of Ravensworth
and Ravenspur.” Her words were drowned by thunderous applause as one by one every man and woman stood to offer her tribute.

They sat down, and the meat was served. Roger gave her a warm look of approval. “That was prettily done. I’m very proud of you.” His eyes lowered to his initial and lingered on her breasts. When he raised his eyes, he saw that she was blushing furiously and had to lower her lashes to her cheeks. He laughed deep in his throat. When she glanced up quickly, he let his eyes lick over her like hot flames.

Tristan leaned forward and said laughingly, “You look as if you want to eat her.”

“I do,” said Roger suggestively. Roseanna shivered.

Tristan grinned at her; the devil was glittering in his eyes. “Why don’t I stand up and propose a bedding for the new bride and groom?”

“Tristan, don’t do this to me,” she hissed.

“There’s something about newlyweds that turns us all into voyeurs.” He laughed. “Everyone in this hall is dying to see you two in bed together.”

“I’ll kill you, Tris!” she threatened.

His merriment increased. “In two or three years I’ll start to worry!”

Roger leaned forward and said, “Find your own woman. This one’s mine.”

Tristan grinned wickedly, “I was the one who laid her naked at your feet, brother. How soon you forget!”

Roseanna was utterly still for a moment. She looked from one dark face to the other, then said quietly, “What do you mean?”

“Nothing—just a jest,” said Tristan. But he looked as guilty as sin, and Roger’s lips tightened in a warning that
he had said too much. Roseanna searched her husband’s face. She’d get out of him what they had done to her, but not here, not now in front of their people.

Roseanna finished her meal in silence without once looking at her husband. But she was very much aware of him sitting close beside her. The physical power of his body could actually be felt when she was this close to him; he silently overwhelmed her. When his thigh brushed hers beneath the table, she drew in her breath as if she’d been burned.

She forced her mind on to another subject. Her interest fell on the other women in the hall as she watched them covertly. She was relieved that none could compare to her in beauty or dress, but there were many women with voluptuous bodies who cast inviting glances to the men at the head table. As the meal progressed and the goblets were drained, the laughter and license increased apace. She glanced at Tristan and said primly, “This looks like a night for torn bodices or worse!”

He whispered, “Or better, depending on how you look at it!”

She turned her back on him and said to Roger, “I’ve had enough, my lord. May I retire?”

A heavy, sweet ache suddenly flooded his loins. His dark eyes showed clearly the desire he felt. “We shall retire together,” he murmured.

Her eyes threw back her challenge: “We shall not.”

“And if I order it, madame?”

“I am your wife, my lord, not your slave. I don’t take kindly to orders.” They spoke as softly as they could, yet still Tristan heard and was shocked to hear her speak so to her husband.

“How dare you, madame?” Roger demanded. Tristan’s
face mirrored the exact same phrase, as if he himself had spoken it aloud.

“I must dare or be crushed, married to Ravenspur.” Her breasts heaved in her agitation, and Roger could see that in another moment she would throw away discretion and fly at him. The light of battle was in her eyes, and her blood was up. In a flash he pushed back his chair and swung her up into his arms. The hall went wild. Under the din they had made, Roger said, “If you put your arms around my neck, I will carry you to your bed. If you resist, I shall carry you to my bed and teach you to be an obedient wife!”

She gasped, then slowly slipped her arms around his neck. He carried her from the hall. She could feel the cords in his neck; the arms that held her so possessively were like iron. A weakness came over her that she could not control. She was utterly amazed at herself.
By God, he’s so handsome he almost makes me swoon,
she thought. She did not yet realize that a strong-willed woman needed a man who would try to master her. That delicious lesson lay in her future—to be dreamed of, anticipated, and devoutly desired.

Suddenly, she stiffened in his arms. “Sir, this is not the way to my chamber.”

“Of course not. It is the way to mine,” he said easily, mounting the stairs without even breathing hard.

“But you promised! You promised that if I didn’t make a scene, you would take me to
my
bed.”

He grinned down at her. “Promises are made to be broken. You taught me that,” he added with relish. He shouldered open his bedchamber door, then leaned back against it to close it firmly.

“I?” she faltered as the bed loomed large before her, seeming to fill the room.

“Roseanna, my love, you break promises and vows without even thinking about them.”

“I’ve made you no promises save to make you wretched!” she said hotly.

He put her down before him and cupped her face with his hands so that she was forced to look up into his eyes. “What about your wedding vows, Roseanna? Did you not promise to love, honor, and obey me?” He emphasized each word slowly.

She blushed. “I cannot love you, my lord. Love is something that cannot be commanded. However, I am a woman of honor, and I shall honor you and your name and your position.” She veiled her eyes with her lashes and said softly, “I will also obey your orders and try to be a dutiful wife.”

The corners of his mouth twitched with amusement. “Meekness doesn’t sit well with you Roseanna. You don’t mean one word of that fine little speech.”

She opened her eyes wide with innocence. “My lord, you are wrong! Only set me a task.”

“Kiss me,” he said simply.

Her heart skipped a beat. He had kissed her, but she had never kissed him, and she never intended to. Why, she would have to stretch up against him onto her very tip-toes and lift her mouth up to reach his. She knew he was waiting. She decided he could wait forever. Finally he said, “You see, you will not even comply with the smallest wifely duty.”

The intimacy was overpowering and she knew she must get out of this room. Desperately, she resorted to bargaining with him. “I will comply with a wifely duty if
you will show me you are a man of honor and let me go to
my
bed as you promised.” She expected that he would again ask for the kiss and decided it was a small price to pay to get to the safety of her own chamber.

“Undress me,” he commanded suggestively.

She was trapped. She would have to keep her promise to ensure that he kept his. She lifted shameful eyes to his, then swept her lashes down shyly. Slowly she reached up to unbutton his doublet. She was aware of him more than she had ever been before, and she knew his eyes were fastened on her mouth. He shrugged his shoulders from the garment and tossed it aside, then took her hand and drew her across the room to the great bed. She followed him reluctantly, having little choice in the matter.

He sat on the bed and awaited her next move. She reached out to unfasten the silk shirt he wore beneath his doublet, knowing that his chest would be entirely naked once it was removed. When her fingers came into contact with the crisp black curls at the neck of the shirt, they trembled slightly, and she heard him laugh softly.

Damn him, he was enjoying her discomfort to the full! When he raised his arms so that she could lift the shirt over his head, she saw the thick, black hair beneath his armpits and shuddered at the sight of his masculinity. She could hardly believe the width of his shoulders as he sat half naked before her. An image of her soft, white breasts being crushed against his heavily furred chest filled her head, and she turned to flee.

A strong hand shot out to anchor her before him. She took a deep, steadying breath and knelt to remove his boots. Watching her, he felt an aching tenderness in his heart that spread throughout his chest. He knew without a doubt that he loved her. This was his woman!

Only one article of clothing remained. Her lips trembled, but dutifully she reached out to his hips. His large hands covered hers as he lifted first one to his lips, then the other. She looked at him questioningly and saw his eyes had gone smoky with desire. Suddenly he swept her up into his arms, and she screamed with alarm.

“I believe I promised to carry you to your bed, my love,” he whispered into her ear. Without speaking, they communicated. He raised an eyebrow, and she showed him the way to her chamber, where, half naked, he swept past the servingwomen in the outer room.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. The rooms had been transformed. Everything was in readiness for her. Mr. Burke had even turned back the bedcovers so that the warmth from the fire would take the chill from her sheets.

“So this is where you’ve decided to hide yourself,” mocked Roger.

“Put me down,” said Roseanna; then she quickly added, “Please.”

He set her down onto the window alcove and touched the velvet cushions piled there. Then he saw the fur coverlet on the bed and noted, “Mr. Burke has robbed my chamber to furnish you with every comfort.” He glanced behind a leather screen in one corner and saw a slipper bath decorated with hand-painted roses.

“Yes. Everything will be perfect once you have removed yourself,” she said sweetly.

Though he knew not how, he held on to his temper. “So you mean to banish me, to cast me out to my own devices?”

“I care not how you amuse yourself, Ravenspur, as long as you leave me in peace.”

His eyes fell on the diamonds glittering between her breasts. “Can you not call me Roger?” he asked almost wistfully.

“Never!” she vowed.

He sighed and took a turn around the room, reluctant to leave. “Do you play chess or backgammon, Roseanna?”

“Yes,” she said shortly.

“Do you play well?” he asked, his dark eyes intent on her.

“Of course. I do everything well!” She tossed her head, and her long, dark hair shimmered in the firelight.

“I’ll bet you do,” he murmured, and a hot curl rose at the pit of her stomach because his words carried a double meaning. “Will you play with me, Roseanna?”

She blushed and could have screamed because he had the power to do this to her. “No! I will not come to your chamber to play games!”

“Then I challenge you to a match on neutral ground. Are you afraid?” he taunted.

“Afraid?” she scoffed. “Ravenspur, I am not afraid of losing at chess, and I am not afraid of you!”

His teeth gleamed in the firelight as he flashed his wolf’s grin. “Then I shall look forward to a high-stakes game,” he said before he turned and left the room.

Alice and Kate entered the moment he left. “Are you all right?” asked Kate like a mother hen to one of her chicks.

“Perfectly,” said Roseanna, stretching her arms high above her head in a very feline gesture. She was weak with relief that he had allowed her one more night. She fully realized that Ravenspur was in command whenever
they were alone together and that it was his decision to take her or leave her whenever he felt like it.

Now she put on a brave face before her women. “Mr. Burke has done a marvelous job. I can’t believe the transformation!”

Kate Kendall snorted, “No better than I could have done if you’d left me to it.”

“Dear Kate, you had much too fatiguing a day to haul beds around. Oh, Alice, don’t bother unpacking those coffers tonight. Tomorrow will be soon enough to hang up all my dresses. Your chamber is as well furbished as mine, I hope?”

“Oh, yes,” said Alice. “We have a pile of towels and lavender soap, and even the candles are scented.”

“And so they should be, with all Ravenspur’s wealth. We haven’t married into a tinpot family, you know,” said Kate.

Roseanna was thoughtful. She could detect a note of pride in Kate’s voice whenever she said
Ravenspur.
As she prepared for bed, she mused on Ravenspur’s tolerance. He let most of her barbs pass; then when she provoked him too far, he always kissed her. Of course he’d had a lifetime of experience with women—both ones he’d been married to and ones he hadn’t.