Virtue and Vice (16 page)

Her face paled but she didn’t flinch beneath his glower. He had to give her credit; she was a force to reckon with and she certainly didn’t cow easily.

That would soon change.

She pushed herself off the wall, taking a step toward him. “If you feel so strongly about this, about me, my God,
why
did you go through with this?” She gestured with one hand between them.

Why indeed? He could barely explain it to himself, let alone to his new bride. But she would
never
know that. “It was my duty to uphold the betrothal and wed you because
I
respect my father and this is what he wanted. And, as I’m over the age of thirty I have need of an heir. I may as well beget one on you.” He ran his fingers through his hair, frustration gnawing at him. “You might be more devious than Eve, but you’re pleasing enough to look upon. It should be no hardship to plough your field.”

Anger sparked in her eyes, turning them a deep blue shade. She stalked toward him, fury evident in every step. “I am not your brood mare!”

“You will be anything I say you’ll be!” he snarled, finally pushed to the breaking point. “You will be an obedient wife. You will submit your body
only
to me until you have quickened with my babe, at which time I’ll leave you to seek my pleasures elsewhere. Until then you’ll not leave this house unescorted, for I’ll not give you the chance to cuckold me beneath my very nose. Any child you give birth to, Isabelle, will be without a doubt
mine
!”

“You bastard!” The sharp sound of a slap echoed through the room as the flat of her hand landed against his cheek.

He grasped her wrist and wrenched it but she didn’t so much as flinch. “If you
ever
do that again I’ll take a switch to you, so help me.”

She snorted. “It wouldn’t be the first time I suffered the switch on account of you! How do you think I was coerced into agreeing to this sham of a marriage in the first place?”

He narrowed his eyes, weighing her words for truth. It rankled that the thought of marriage to him had so appalled her it had taken a whipping for her to assent.

“Be that as it may, we are married, which means I
own
you now. I
control
everything about your life. You can do nothing without my permission and anything you need or want depends solely upon my good will, so it might behoove you to resign yourself to finding a way to please me. And Izzy, you
will
obey me. You’ll not leave this house alone until you are delivered of my heir, do I make myself clear?”

“You cannot treat me like this! I’ll not be a prisoner in my own home! I told you I am still a virgin. I haven’t
cavorted
with anyone but you. Why won’t you listen to me? I have no need to lie, for you’ll soon find out the truth for yourself, won’t you?”

“You think I’m ignorant of the tricks whores play to make a man think he’s the first?” He grunted in disbelief. “You must know why I don’t believe you, Isabelle. The woman who had my cock in her mouth barely a se’nnight ago was no innocent virgin. I’ve had courtesans who couldn’t hold a candle to your skills, my sweet.”

Her hand slammed against his cheek again and the control he’d held onto by the thinnest of thread snapped. He grasped her wrist, ruthlessly twisting her arm behind her back, then dragged her against him and lowered his head so they were nose to nose.

“I warned you not to ever do that again.” By God, he’d hear her apology or he would take that switch to her, wedding day or not.

She stared in mutinous silence, her eyes sparking with rage.

“You’ll pay for that,” he promised.

She spit in his face. For a moment he stood utterly still, stunned. Pushed finally beyond his breaking point, he unleashed the full force of the fury boiling within him. Letting go of her wrist, he wiped his face, then burrowed his fingers into her hair, grabbing her forcefully by a large hank. She winced but didn’t utter a sound. It only infuriated him all the more that he couldn’t intimidate her into submission. He was angrier than he’d ever been in his entire life and she didn’t care a whit.

He dragged her toward the bed. The faster he consummated this union the faster he could retreat to his study. As for Izzy, a night and day spent locked alone in her chamber with no one to fawn upon her wouldn’t go amiss. She’d soon thoroughly learn that repercussions would follow her actions.

As realization of his intent dawned on her she finally lost her composure and fought against him. She clawed at his arm, but he didn’t halt, unperturbed by the attack.

When he reached the dais upon which his bed sat he lifted her off her feet and tossed her onto the mattress. She immediately got to her knees to spring from it, but he pinned her down with the weight of his body atop hers, holding her immobile. She squirmed beneath him, then aimed a kick at his groin, but he clamped his legs over hers, at the same time freeing his hands. He grasped her delicate beaded gown by the neckline and tore. The sound of rending fabric filled the room. Her eyes widened and filled with panic.

“Nay! Nay, you can’t do this.
Please
, Julian! Please, don’t.” Desperation laced her voice, making it shrill, and satisfaction surged in his veins. He’d
finally
got a reaction from her other than haughty anger.

He pulled the torn edges of her gown apart and reached for her petticoats, ripping them with the same savagery with which he tore the gown. “My. Name. Is. Ramsay.”

She closed her eyes. Her throat worked as she swallowed rapidly. “Ramsay, please, I-I don’t want this. Not like this. You’re truly frightening me. If we could just talk”-

Her silky undergarments were no barrier to his ravaging hands. He shifted off her long enough to tug the ruined bridal clothing from beneath her.

“What’s to be frightened of? You know what to expect. Not once in all the times we were together did you show maidenly timidity or fear. And we both know why.” He tossed her garments from the bed. “This marriage
will
be consummated tonight. I’ve waited too long to have you and the wait has come to an end. You can fight me or you can yield to me and participate, I care not which,” he lied, “but this will not remain a marriage in name only beyond the next hour.”

He tried taking her lips with his. Despite his anger, if he could coax her into a giving mood the night could still be pleasurable for the both of them and something might be salvaged of the miserable day. She turned her face away, clearly rejecting him, which only enraged him all the more. Fine. If she wanted no tenderness, he certainly wasn’t going to waste his time convincing her. She could play the martyr if she so desired, it made no bloody difference.

He didn’t try to kiss her again; instead, he bent his head and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. When she moaned low in her throat a primal surge of satisfaction sparked in him.

Now here was the Izzy he knew, the wanton who responded to his touch and his tongue. His seeking hand slid between her thighs. She clawed at him and clamped her legs shut in response, but he pried them open easily with his own legs. With one hand he grabbed both of her wrists and held them pinned above her head, then returned to finding the treasure he sought with the other.

He was somewhat surprised to find her dry to the touch, but as he ran the pad of his finger through her folds, hot moisture seeped from her.

She could try to act as cold as she wished, but he knew exactly how to warm her.

He released her to remove his breeches. As soon as he shifted his weight from her she scrambled to the other side of the bed, launching herself from it. He shed his breeches and then, fully nude, stalked her across the bedchamber.

Izzy stood quivering against the door, using her arms to cover her nudity, and for a moment she looked small and truly terrified. Ram tamped down the urge to take her in his arms and offer comfort. But she didn’t deserve his comfort after what she’d done. Moreover, he’d be damned if he crawled to her and set the precedent for this marriage. If she wanted peace, she’d have to come to him in willing surrender.

She crept toward the wardrobe and stood on tiptoe, trying in vain to reach the key.

“You’ll not reach it. That door remains locked until this marriage is consummated. How long that might take depends upon you.”

“We’ll be locked in here through eternity if you await my consent” she spat.

“I neither seek, nor require your consent,
wife
.” With those words, he charged. She tried to duck around him but he grabbed her around the waist, swinging her into his arms. He bore her, struggling, to the bed and dumped her on it unceremoniously, once again pinning her beneath his weight.

“Now where were we?” He slid his hand between her legs. “Ah yes. We were right”-he flicked her hidden bud with his finger and she arched against him with a gasp. “Here.” Perhaps she hated him in this moment, but her body yearned for his. At least that wasn’t all a lie. Moisture coated his finger heavier than before.

She was ready enough and he was done waiting. Frankly, it had ceased to be possible to wait any longer. It seemed like he’d wanted this woman for a lifetime and now she was in his bed, his bride, ripe for the taking. His.

He shifted between her legs, grasped his cock, and positioned himself at the entrance to her lush body. The motion revived her will to fight as she realized the moment was upon them. She pushed against his chest, but it was far too late. Nothing would stop him from his purpose now.

Grabbing her hands to still her struggles, he yanked her arms against her sides, then thrust deep.

Her harsh, pain-filled cry penetrated his mind at the same moment he felt the resistant barrier tear as he buried himself inside her.

He went utterly still.

Nay!

He recoiled in stunned horror and reared back to look down at her face.

Nay! Nay! Nay!

The single word repeated in his head as the full realization of what he’d done washed over him.

He stared at Izzy’s pale face, perhaps truly seeing her for the first time that day. Words failed him.

What the hell have I done?

As he absorbed in shock what had just happened, he dropped his head to the pillow beside hers and held motionless. He pressed his cheek to hers, overwhelmed by remorse so heavy it almost choked him.

The moisture of a tear landed against his. It scalded him, or maybe it was only his shame that burned him so. He forced himself to raise his head and look at her again.

Her eyes were clenched shut, but that didn’t stop tears creeping from the corners. Her face was ashen, her lips pinched in agony. Her hands were fisted so tightly the whites of her knuckles showed.

He was undone.

Obviously, there was no way to recover; she would find no pleasure in this encounter no matter what he did. He withdrew immediately, but remained above her, leaning his weight on his arms, trying desperately to think of a way to comfort her.

“Izzy. Izzy, shh. You’re all right now.” He wiped away her tears with a fingertip, then stroked the hair back from her face. “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart,” he whispered, agonized for her.

She opened tortured eyes. “It hurts.” She whimpered in a broken voice.

“Shh. I know. ‘Tis over now and the pain will soon pass. Relax, Sweetheart.” He feathered kisses across her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, then finally brushed over her lips, hoping the light touch would soothe her.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, though it was only a matter of minutes, her tension slowly eased. Her hands loosened against the sheets and color returned to her face. But the moment he shifted his weight she went rigid again. He immediately moved onto his side next to her, giving her space.

“Relax, Sweetheart. The worst has passed, I promise.”

More than anything, he wanted to comfort her, but he had no idea where to even start. She turned on her side facing away from him, curling herself into a tight ball. Her body shook with the force of her sobs, though she didn’t make a sound.

As he stared at her slender back and her shaking shoulders, his heart bled for her and for all she’d been through during the long course of the day, all because of a false confession she made to her father. Now that the veil of anger that had clouded everything lifted he reconsidered the scene in the baron’s study. What was it she’d said, exactly?

“I’m no longer innocent.”

He closed his eyes. She hadn’t truly lied, had she? Perhaps in the most technical sense only. She’d but stretched the truth. Aye, she wanted her father to think the worst, but she never claimed not to be virgin. And arguably, after the time they shared in the crofter’s hut, she truly wasn’t innocent. Why hadn’t he recognized the significance of her choice of words sooner?

He cursed, looking back at everything through what he now knew. It wasn’t haughty aloofness with which she surrounded herself all day. She’d been quite frankly overwhelmed by everything she’d been through; the confrontation with her father, then with him, discovering his true identity and the charade he’d played, her father’s rejection, her cousin’s knowledge, his fury and insistence they still wed, her fear of the unknown and the natural apprehension of a girl leaving the comfort of her beloved family and home. She’d spent her wedding day abandoned, alone, and scared. He ached for her, for everything she’d gone through.