Prisoner of My Desire

by Johanna Lindsey

  She had been trying to determine if the fluttering she had felt was the child or

  indigestion. Her first look at Warrick, and she decided ?twas going to be

  indigestion.

  ?So the mighty warlord returns,? she said, not caring whether he liked her

  sneering tone or not ?Did you kill Gilbert??

  ?I have not found him yet, though not for lack of hunting him these weeks past.?

  ?So that is why you did not return here? But there was no hurry to return here,

  was there? You sent your orders. That was sufficient.?

  ?God?s blood, do you dare!?

  He stopped when she looked away from him to stare out the window, deliberately

  ignoring him. She was not frightened or contrite. Her expression was calmness

  itself. He had not expected that, but then, he had not given what he did expect

  much thought, for he had forced her from his mind to concentrate solely on

  finding d?Ambray. But he found now that he did not like her undertone of

  resentment. And the anger he had felt that night he met her mother was starting

  to rekindle.

  He sat down on the opposite bench to face her.

  ?Such an innocent demeanor to hide such deceit,? he remarked coldly.

  She glanced at him with raised brows to ask quietly ?When was I deceitful? At

  Kirkburough when I knew not who you were? Or at Kirkburough when you came with

  your army to kill my stepbrother, knowing not who he really was? But I thought

  you were there for Gilbert d?Ambray, your avowed enemy, so aye, I should have

  told you then, when I was sure you would kill me as well if you knew he was my

  stepbrother. Or mayhap I should have told you when you took me out of your

  dungeon the first time to explain to me how you were going to have your revenge.

  Was I to tell you then, Warrick, to add to what you had already planned for me??

  ?You knew I would not kill you!?

  ?Not then I did not!?

  They glared at each other. Rowena was in no wise calm now. There were twenty

  five days of repressed anger glittering in her eyes. His had turned to silver

  ice.

  ?What excuse do you offer for your later silence, wench, when you escaped, only

  to have d?Ambray return you? Did he send you back to spy on me??

  ?I am sure he would have asked me to if he had thought of it. But until you

  arrived, he thought he had won the day, that he would have the means to bring

  you to your knees. When you did arrive, he had no time to think of aught but

  escaping himself. But I did not tell you then that he was d?Ambray, for the same

  reason I did not pr tell you when you summoned me to his castle. I did not want

  to face your anger againor this.?

  She waved a hand to indicate her imprisonment.

  ?And I am to believe that, when ?tis more likely that you and d?Ambray go hand

  in hand in this deceit? He left you at Kirkburough for me to find,? he reminded

  her harshly.

  ?Was I to become smitten with you and tell you all myl plans?? I

  ?He assumed you would make terms with me But I was left there because he

  panicked. You were approaching with five hundred men, while he had only a

  handful remaining. He intended to come back with Lyons army, which had been sent

  to retake Tures from you. Possibly he hoped I would distract you long enough for

  him to get away. More like he thought I would slow him down if he took me along.

  Whatever ran through his mind that day besides fear and rage, I know not. But I

  do know ?twas not his intention to leave me with you any longer than it would

  take him to return. And he did return. When he found me that day in the woods,

  he told me he thought you had killed me.?

  Warrick snorted.

  ?Very cleverly said, wench, but I do not believe a word of it.?

  ?Think you I care anymore what you believe? Last month I would have, but now I

  do not.?

  ?Your circumstance depends on what I believe, wench,? he reminded her.

  ?My circumstance cannot be any more wretched.?

  ?Can it not?? he replied with quiet menace.

  ?I ought to punish you properly, not just curtail your freedom.?

  That brought her to her feet in a burst of wrath.

  ?Go ahead, damn you! Do it! It will not make me despise you more than I do now.?

  ?Sit down,? he growled low.

  She did not, not by him. She stalked around the fireplace to the other window

  and took a bench there, her stiff back half turned away from the room. She

  stared blindly out the window, seething so much her hands trembled in her lap.

  She hated him. Despised him. She wished he? she hated him!

  She heard him behind her, come to block the opening of the other window

  embrasure so she could not leave it without pushing him out of the way. As if

  she could, and she resented that fact, too.

  ?You have not acquitted yourself, wench. Verily, I am not like to believe aught

  you say ever again. What you did was akin to betrayal. Had you told me it was d?Ambray

  on my land, I would have run him to ground despite the blackness of the night.

  Had you told me you were Rowena of Tures, I could have secured your remaining

  properties the sooner, thereby?

  ?The sooner?? she cut in scathingly.

  ?You do not think I will help you to secure them now, do you? I would not help

  you were you?

  ?Be quiet!? he snapped.

  ?Your resentment is misplaced, wench. I could not leave you free to communicate

  with that devil?s spawn, and I doubt it not that he has secreted someone here to

  carry your messages to him. I needs now interrogate my own people to be rid of

  any who were not here ere you came, be they innocent or not. Be grateful I did

  not leave you in the dungeon.?

  ?Grateful for this tomb, where I have had no one to speak to since I was shut in

  here? Aye, I am grateful,? she sneered derisively.

  Silence greeted that. She did not turn to see if he showed any contrition, if he

  had even realized ! what he was sentencing her to when he had ordered her

  confined. In his rage he had condemned her without trial, without even asking if

  she was guilty. That damn pain she had thought would have gone numb by now was

  becoming more acute, twisting in her chest, tightening in her throat.

  Finally she heard him sigh.

  ?You will return to your duties, those first given to you. But you will be

  watched, doubt it not. And never again will you be trusted.?

  ?When was I ever trusted?? she asked in a small, bitter voice, the pain nigh

  choking her.

  ?When you shared my bed, wench, I trusted you not to betray me.?

  ?Nor did I. What I did is called selfpreservation.?

  ?Your pretense of wanting me??

  She would have liked to say ?Aye, that, too,? but she would not lie to hurt him

  as he was hurting her.

  ?Nay, my silence. But you need not worry that my unseemly behavior of the past

  will bother you again. Whatever I felt for you is no longer there.?

  ?Damn you, Rowena, you will not make me regret my actions! Tis you?

  ?Spare me any more recriminations. There is naught else I want to hear from you,

  except tell me what you did with my mother.?

  He was silent for so long, she did not think he would answer her. He was cruel

  enough to leave her wonderingnay, not that cruel.

  ?I gave her into the c
are of my friend, Sheldon de Vere. She assisted me in

  taking Ambray Castle. For that she has my gratitude. She also assisted in

  opening your remaining properties, which you should have done. D?Ambray?s men

  were ousted with little bloodshed. He no longer has control of aught that is

  yours.?

  She did not thank him for that. He now had control of all that was hers, as well

  as herself, and he was not like to ever relinquish it.

  Quietly, without looking back at him, with despair about to crush her, she said

  ?That day you came triumphant to Kirkburough, I had intended to offer you my

  wardshipdespite all the horrible tales I had heard of youif you had proved to be

  just a little less despicable than Gilbert? but you did not. You sent me

  straightaway to your dungeon. Small wonder I never got around to telling you who

  I was.?

  He walked out ere her tears betrayed her.

  Chapter 46

  The resumption of Rowena?s previous duties did not lift the gloom that had come

  to Fulkhurst. Mary Blouet was not happy to have charge of her again. Melisant

  cried frequently. Mildred grumbled constantly. Emma gave her father such baleful

  looks that he ought to have reprimanded her for them, but he did not. And the

  hall was so subdued at meals that even a cough was embarrassing.

  Rowena refused to speak of it to anyone, including Mildred, whom she was annoyed

  with for instigating a plan that had so horribly backfired on her. Warrick had

  not been caught by it, she had, and so she listened to Mildred now with a closed

  ear and few, if any, comments.

  The weeks that followed were much like her first days serving Warrick, with a

  few notable exceptions. She was not called to assist him at his bath now, or in

  his bed. Nor did she receive any of those humorless smiles she had hated. He

  barely looked at her at all, but when he did, his face was devoid of expression.

  She was no more than what he had first intended her to be, a servant beneath his

  notice. Perversely, she stopped wearing her own clothes, though he had not

  insisted on that. But if she would be no more than a servant, then she would

  look like no more than a servant.

  She still instructed Emma when she had time to spare. That she enjoyed doing,

  and so tried to keep her own feelings from the girl; these waxed between

  depression and bitterness, then just bitterness. She took even more pains,

  however, to keep her emotions from Warrick?s notice.

  But then the day came that Emma was taken from her, sent to Sheldon?s home for

  her wedding to young Richard. Rowena was not allowed to witness it. She had sewn

  the gown Emma would be married in, but she was not there to see her wear it.

  That was the day she stopped keeping her resentment to herself.

  Warrick noticed the change immediately. Twice in one day food was dumped in his

  lap. Both times could not be accidents. He could no longer find clothes in his

  coffer that were not in need of some kind of repair. By week?s end his chamber

  was filthy. The linens on his bed had not been rinsed properly, which caused him

  a rash. His wine became more and more sour, his ale more and more warm, the food

  she now slammed down in front of him more and more salty.

  He said naught to her about any of it. He did not trust himself to speak to her

  at all without dragging her off to his bed. He wanted her so badly it took his

  every effort not to touch her. But he would not. She had deceived him. She had

  plotted with his enemy against him. Her laughter, her teasing, her desire for

  himall lies. Yet he could not hate her. He would never forgive her, never touch

  her again, never let her know how vulnerable she had made him, but he could not

  hate heror stop wanting her.

  He knew not why he stayed there to torture himself. He ought to go and hunt for

  d?Ambray himself, instead of sending others to do it. Or visit Sheldon and his

  new wife. Had he told someone to mention the marriage to Rowena? He must not

  have, for surely that would have put a halt, at least temporarily, to whatever

  maggoty bit of resentment she was indulging. As if she had reason to be

  resentful. He did, but she did not.

  Though he should leave, he did not. So he was there two days later when Sheldon

  showed up with his new wife.

  Warrick met them on the stairs to the keep. Sheldon merely grinned in greeting

  and told him to ?brace himself,? before he went on into the hall, leaving

  Warrick alone with the Lady Anne. Her tight lipped expression gave him warning

  of what was to come. It came without preamble.

  ?I am here to see my daughter, and do not think to deny me, sirrah. Your own

  daughter has just confided to me the atrocious treatment gowena has had at your

  hands. I am not sure I can forgive Sheldon for not telling me himself. Had I

  known before, I would have set a trap for you at Ambray, instead of handing the

  castle over to you. That any man could be so?

  ?Enough, lady! You know naught of what has transpired between Rowena and me. You

  know naught of what your daughter has done to me. She is my prisoner and so she

  will stay. You may see her, but you may not take her from here. Is that clear to

  you??

  Anne opened her mouth to argue that point, then closed it. She glared at him for

  a moment more before she nodded curtly and started to pass him. But she took no

  more than two steps ere she whirled back around.

  ?I will not be intimidated by you, Lord Warrick. My husband assures me that you

  have good reason to be the way you are. I doubt that, but he has also told me

  that you might think Rowena was a willing pawn in Gilbert?s schemes.?

  ?I do not think it, I know it,? Warrick replied coldly.

  ?Then you are misinformed,? Anne persisted, but added in a more reasonable tone

  ?My daughter loves me. Think you she would aid Gilbert in any way after she saw

  him viciously beat me to get her cooperation??

  Warrick stiffened.

  ?Cooperation for what??

  ?Gilbert had made contract with Godwine Lyons for her. She refused. I also

  disdained the match. He was an old lecher with scandal attached to his name, in

  no wise her equal. But ff Lyons had promised Gilbert his army, which he needed

  to fight you. So he brought her to Ambray and had her restrained to watch while

  he beat me.?

  ?Why you? Why not her??

  ?Because in a twisted way, I think he cares for her. He would not want to mar

  her beauty, at any rate, when the wedding was to take place as soon as they

  reached Kirkburough. But he had no difficulty beating me, nor would he have

  stopped until he had her agreement to marry Lyons. But I thought surely she

  would balk again once they were away from me. She is stubborn, after all, and

  not above wanting to ruin Gilbert?s plans after what he did to me. But he

  bragged to me, when he came to Ambray for those few days, that he had completely

  cowed her, that she would do whatever he required, because he had warned her he

  would kill me if she did not. I am not sure he would have. He is not as

  inherently cruel as his father was. Yet would she have believed him. And she

  would have hated him forwhat is wrong?? she gasped when he turned so ashen.

  Warrick shook his head, b
ut a groan escaped him as other words came at him from

  memory, when Rowena had stood over his chained body and explained what she would

  do.

  ?I like this no better than you, but I have no choiceand neither do you.?

  No choice. She had been trying to save her mother?s life. She had not wanted to

  rape him. And she had been so sorry for it that she had accepted his revenge as

  her due.

  ?Ahhh!? he roared in anguish, the pain ripping at his chest unbearable.

  Anne became alarmed.

  ?Wait, I will get?

  ?Nay? there is naught wrong with me that a whip would not cure,? Warrick said

  with selfloathing.

  ?You were right to revile me, lady. I am the veriest? ah, God, what have I done!?

  He ran past her and into the hall. When he passed Sheldon, he told him only,

  ?Keep your wife here,? then was running up the stairs.

  Rowena was not alone when he found her in the sewing room. Mildred was with her,

  and three others. They took one look at him and hurried out. Mildred was slower

  to go. She gave him one of the frigid looks she had been giving him for weeks

  that he had not noticed. He did not notice now, either, for he was staring only

  at Rowena.

  She stood up and tossed aside the cloth from her lap, her demeanor what it had