by The Raven
Kate would ride in the baggage coach, while Alice would ride beside Roseanna on her gentle palfrey. The wagons containing her household furnishings were ready to roll, and her string of Thoroughbreds were being seen to by Dobbin.
Yet that was only the smallest part of the cavalcade. Ravenspur had thirty knights, half of whom had brought their wives to York for the wedding. He also had eighty men-at-arms, without whom he seldom traveled. Then there was Tristan Montford, who had his own men, to say nothing of Rebecca and her servingwomen and baggage. Tristan and his men would travel to Ravensworth first, then go to Ravenscar toward the east coast.
At first light Sir Bryan Fitzhugh approached Roger. “Baron Ravenspur, I seek service with you, sir.”
Roger raised a brow and examined him closely. The boy seemed open and honest enough, yet Roger could hardly believe he would have the gall to follow Roseanna. “You are the young knight from Castlemaine?” asked Roger, knowing full well his identity.
Sir Bryan looked shamefaced. “I was dismissed from Castlemaine, my lord, because I gave safe escort to Lady Roseanna when she—when she ran away,” he finished lamely.
Ravenspur was about to shake his head when Sir Bryan pressed further. “It was I who gave the message to your men at Selby Abbey.”
Ravenspur’s eyes narrowed. What was his game? Perhaps it would be best if the young devil were where he could keep an eye on him.
“I can always use an extra sword. In the meantime you can keep an eye on the wagons and the people from Castlemaine. Don’t let them hold us up on the journey to Ravensworth.” Before the words were out of his mouth, Fitzhugh was off his horse and swearing fealty. Roger smiled to himself. God’s feet, how fervent young knights were! Perhaps he’d misjudged the boy. Most likely Roseanna had been using him to get to the man she really loved—perhaps one of the King’s gentlemen.
He made an effort to throw off the black mood that threatened. He’d never closed his eyes last night, but his blood had been too hot and demanding, enclosed in the same chamber as the object of his desire; he’d been unable to cool his thoughts. From the moment he’d discovered Roseanna was his betrothed, he’d been filled with pleasurable anticipation that flooded through him every time he thought of her. Then she had denied him childishly, and if he knew aught of her tricks, she would do so again tonight. Though he longed for it to happen, he knew she would not yield to him willingly. Well, two could play her game, he thought with amusement. He would have to seduce her, tease her, wear down her resistance until she begged him to make love to her. Roger was determined to win her body and soul, and as he rode along, planned his assault.
When Roseanna was urging Zeus back toward Kate’s coach and the horses from Castlemaine, she caught sight of Bryan. Her heart leaped with joy. He had somehow managed to join her household! Their eyes caught and held, but they were both cautious enough to make no greeting. Surreptitiously he placed his hand across his heart, and before she turned Zeus, she did the same.
Tristan rode abreast of her and threw her an admiring glance. “Ravenspur doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you. I’d give anything if my wife showed some of your spirit.”
“What do you mean?” She smiled.
“You intend to ride part of the way,” he explained.
“I intend to ride all the way,” she asserted.
His eyes kindled, and he didn’t try to hide the admiration he felt for her.
“Tris, don’t hold Rebecca in contempt because she rides in the coach with her ladies. I don’t think she’s very strong.”
“Her frailty is deliberate,” he began; then he dismissed his wife with a shrug. “Here’s Roger.”
He rode up with another dark giant at his heels and bowed to Roseanna. “This is Kelly, captain of my men-at-arms. I’ve asked him to keep an eye on your safety, Roseanna. You may depend on him at all times.”
She nodded formally to the man and looked away quickly. She didn’t like the way he looked at her. His build was enough like Roger’s and Tristan’s that he could have been a brother to them; yet something in his dark face repelled her. That he was a hard-bitten soldier, with none of the courteous ways of a gentleman, was plain. Perhaps that was what caused her uneasiness with him.
As she surveyed her new husband, she had to admit that he was a splendid man. He sat on his black Thoroughbred with a regal air of command. His soft leather boots reached above his knees, where his heavily muscled thighs gripped the saddle and the flanks of the stallion. His dark purple mantle was closed by a magnificent clasp of diamonds set in the shape of his initial. She knew not whether it stood for Ravenspur or Roger.
Probably because of her royal blood, Roseanna had a great sense of show and ceremony. She realized instantly that this was her opportunity to display herself to advantage before her husband’s people—her people now. Because two previous wives had held her position, she was determined to become the Baroness of Ravenspur: the most beauteous, the most gracious, the most beloved. She would not stoop to bicker with her lord before his men. She gave him a brilliant smile; she would keep her barbs for when they were alone.
For a moment Roger was dazzled. His eyes warmed to her beauty, and he said, “Will you do me the honor of riding beside me, Lady Roseanna?”
The breeze carried her voice to all those around them as she deepened her smile and replied, “The honor is mine, my lord husband.” Her lavender riding mantle and his a few shades darker complemented each other. Her long black hair was held in a lavender-colored silk net set with amethysts, and amethysts were set among the embroidery of her riding gauntlets.
Roger thought her radiant, as if a light shone from her like a jewel. She was his jewel, and he knew a moment of pride such as he had never known before. His dark eyes roamed possessively over her, and Roseanna became aware of a peculiar sensation that she had never before experienced. It began in the pit of her belly and radiated upward to set her breasts tingling. More disturbing, it also traveled downward to between her legs. It was a wicked feeling; she was confused and alarmed. Bryan affected her heart, but this man who rode beside her with desire hot in his eyes affected her body. Her pulse began to race at a frantic pace; her breasts rose and fell with her rapid breathing. She stole a glance at him, and he winked suggestively as if he knew of the sensations felt inside her. She looked away quickly and fell back to ride beside Alice.
“Oh, my lady, you seem filled with energy. Didn’t the last few days exhaust you?”
“To be truthful, Alice, I’ve never felt so exhilarated. Didn’t you have the time of your life at the King’s Court and the jousting?” asked Roseanna.
“I’m so unused to crowds. I—I find it all so unsettling.”
Roseanna laughed, because at last she was tasting life. “I love new experiences. I thrive on them! Alice, just think of the castles we’ll live in from now on. Tonight it will be Ravensworth, but soon we’ll be moving to Castle Ravenspur, which overlooks the ocean. I can’t wait!”
“Won’t you be homesick, my lady?” asked Alice mournfully.
“Homesick? Why, I hadn’t considered such a thing. I hope I’m too busy for any such nonsense, Alice. Do you realize that I shall be chatelaine of Ravenspur and that I don’t know how to run a household?”
“You’ll soon learn, Lady Roseanna. Nothing frightens you.”
“I should hope not!” Roseanna looked at Alice and wondered if she was already homesick. “When we move to Ravenspur, it is close enough to Castlemaine that we shall be able to visit often.”
“Would you like to ride in the coach with Kate and rest for a while, my lady?”
“Rest?” asked Roseanna, uncomprehending. “Alice, I don’t want to miss one moment of this glorious ride! Look down there—it must be the River Ure. From this great height it looks like a silver ribbon. And look, Alice, over there-the woods are black and red and gold! And breathe deeply; this Yorkshire air is so crystal clear, it’s like breathing French wine, and it’s just as intoxicating.”
Alice l
ooked pinched and miserable. “Oh, love, why don’t you go and ride with Kate in the coach?” urged Roseanna.
“Will you be able to manage?” Alice faltered.
Roseanna threw back her head and laughed deliciously. “Alice, if I cannot, I have a hundred men at my beck and call!”
Alice felt disloyal to think it, but there were times when Roseanna was like a pagan. That was the only word for it!
From time to time the large cavalcade passed other travelers on the Great North Road. If any were in trouble or needed help, Ravenspur always courteously bade his men attend to it in spite of the delay it caused. Their own party was prey to the usual problems of travelers, such as loose wheels and balky animals; the slow progress would have tried the patience of a saint.
Roseanna rode beside Rebecca’s coach and talked with her for the best part of an hour, learning all about the castle they were going to. Rebecca wasn’t happy about going north and wished they were bound for Ravenspur, which was much more comfortably furnished than the northern strongholds in her opinion.
When late afternoon arrived and the slow pace of the long journey had begun to pall, Roseanna unconsciously sought the company of Ravenspur. She would sharpen her wits with a verbal duel, for one thing was certain—he never bored her. The two brothers were riding together and were deep in conversation. Whatever it was they discussed must have been serious, because both their faces were grim. But when Roseanna rode between them, they ceased the discussion instantly. She looked from one face to the other and asked lightly, “Must marriage be such a tragedy?”
They laughed heartily, glad of the diversion, and Tristan fell back so the newlyweds could have a moment of privacy. Ravenspur raked her with his eyes. “Am I under a spell, or do you grow more beautiful with each hour?” He maneuvered his horse close against hers, reached up, and unclasped the diamond R from his mantle and fastened it at her neck.
Her eyes blazed with anger. “Must you brand me with your initial?” she demanded.
“Is it not also yours, Roseanna?” He said her name caressingly.
Her eyes widened when she realized how quick she was to look for insult; she had been ungracious of his gift of diamonds.
“You are all the jewel I need,” he said warmly, and she actually felt her knees grow weak. “What do you say to a gallop?” he asked, wondering if she was up to it after traveling all day. Her eyes lit up, and when he saw her eagerness, he explained, “We’re only about ten miles from Ravensworth. I could send riders ahead to let them know of our impending arrival, or we could leave this lot in our dust and be the first to ride in.”
For her answer she spurred Zeus, and horse and rider flew into the lead. He heard her challenging laughter float back on the wind and was after her in a flash. She had every intention of beating him, and she bent low over her stallion’s neck, knowing Zeus had the heart for it in spite of the long journey. Her hair streamed loose from its jeweled net, and she felt the silken snood slip down her back inside her gown. As he came even with her, she glanced across at him and caught a flash of white teeth in his dark face. Then the wind whipped a long tress of her hair across his face, and he exulted in the feel of it. His black animal, as wild as Zeus, overtook her and threw up big clods of soft earth as it dug in with its powerful hooves.
When she clattered into the castle courtyard, his mount stood still, its sides heaving. Roseanna was piqued; she was so used to winning, she was a poor loser. Surreptitiously she reached down and loosened the girth. “My saddle came loose,” she said, challenging him with a haughty look.
Ravenspur’s brow arched. He had just learned a valuable lesson about Roseanna. Rather than admit defeat by him, she would cheat. Grooms ran from the stables to tend the horses; they stared openmouthed at the beautiful wild woman their lord had brought home.
Before she went into the castle to meet her household, she wanted to put her disheveled hair in order. But try as she might, she could not fish the amethyst net out from down her back.
Roger’s tall shadow fell across her. “Do you need any help?” he asked in his deep voice.
She thought that if he touched her, she would scream. “Unfortunately, I do,” she responded coolly. Like a child she put her back to him and bent her head down. He slipped his hand down her bodice. His long fingers caressed the satin skin of her back, then swiftly moved beneath her arm to capture a soft breast. He chuckled with delight as her nipple budded and hardened beneath his teasing fingers.
“That’s not playing fair, Ravenspur,” she said breathily, trying not to moan from the pleasure he was giving her.
“I’m going to play with you all night,” he whispered in her ear, “once I get you to bed.” His lips playfully nipped her earlobe. Finally, he pulled the jeweled net out from down her back. She gasped aloud.
“Did the stones scratch you?” he asked with concern.
She shook her head. It was the touch of his fingers that had burned her. She lifted her hands to her head, but he quickly gathered the silken waterfall of her hair into its pretty net. The touch of her hair had the usual effect upon him—it made him hard, erect, and ready for her. He put his great hands beneath her elbows, lifted her high against him, and took her mouth in a long, hard, demanding kiss. Lord, how he lusted for this woman! He gazed down at her from his great height and reached to tuck in an errant curl.
“I can manage,” she said, doing her best to regain her composure as she pulled away. She changed the subject rapidly. “I’d like to attend Zeus myself after such a rigorous journey.” She said it as if she were challenging him for the right to be in the stables.
“I approve of your tending to your own horse,” he said, “although you are the first woman I have ever known who wanted to do such a thing. But just this once, I think you can safely leave Zeus in the hands of my grooms, as I will my horse today.”
She acquiesced as graciously as she could and turned to view the castle. It had been built by the Normans in their solid square style from the pale limestone that abounded in the area. There was only one barbican tower over the entrance. A great wolfhound came loping up to Roger, and he greeted the beast with familiar affection.
The first floor of the castle housed the armory and the men’s sleeping quarters; on the second floor was the vast dining hall, and behind that the living quarters for the household servants. Ravenspur’s chambers were on the third level of the castle. Uppermost in Roseanna’s mind was the fact that she intended to have her own rooms, separate and at some distance from his. She knew it would take a battle of wills to get her own way.
They began their tour of the castle in its vast kitchens, to which the warmth and delicious smells had drawn them. Two great hearths, so large a man could stand upright in them, were filled with roaring fires. In one an oxen was being roasted, and in the other fireplace were spitted a sheep and two deer. Flitches of bacon and hams hung from the rafters amid bunches of dried herbs and strings of onions. Scrubbed wooden tables held cheeses, tubs of butter, and freshly baked loaves. A plump woman had just baked a dozen blackberry pies. Roseanna bent over them and sniffed their ambrosial aroma with a heavenly look upon her face. The woman beamed and asked if she would like to try some. “Yes, please,” said Roseanna, stripping off the jeweled riding gloves so she could eat it with her fingers. The kitchen was a beehive of activity, filled with kitchen workers of every age, from the elderly pie maker to the young boys who turned the spits and kept the dogs from the kitchens.
As Roger led her up to the great hall on the second floor, they were met by the household chamberlain. He was a man of middle age, squarely built with a strong face and an air of authority.
“Mr. Burke, I want you to meet my wife, Lady Roseanna. We have been a household of men too long, but I think we will manage the transition smoothly if we all learn to compromise.”
Mr. Burke bowed formally to his new mistress, but she smiled inwardly at her husband’s attempt at diplomacy. She could tell that Mr. Burke was used to ruling th
e roost, and compromise was probably a thing he’d never done in his life. She smiled, imagining how the sparks would fly when Kate Kendall and Mr. Burke met head on. She glanced up at Roger and saw from the amusement in his eyes that he had read her thoughts. He took her upstairs to the watchtower; she knew it was his way of maneuvering her to his own chamber. As they looked out from the tower, they saw that the rest of the party were beginning to wend their way up the hill toward the castle.
She turned to him quickly. “I know you’ll want to go down and direct things, so I’ll just look around and choose a chamber of my own liking.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement of her intention. He stood very close, looking down at her without speaking. Then he put his hand beneath her chin and raised her face so that he could look directly into her eyes. “So you still intend to deny me the rights and pleasures to which a husband is entitled?” he demanded.
Her eyes widened. “By God, Ravenspur, are you actually trying to appeal to my sense of fair play when you know damned well that you forced me into this marriage? When I appealed to you, it fell on deaf ears. Let me remind you, I made it plain right from the start that I would not yield to you.”
His eyes licked over her like a candle flame; then his mouth was on hers in a kiss that showed how savage he could be. He pulled her body into his so that she was left with no doubt about his hardened condition. Only when he allowed her to was she able to tear her mouth from his. A small curl of fear gripped her. “I shall kiss the insolence from your overbold mouth every time you speak to me in such a manner,” he warned her.
“So that’s to be my punishment,” she said with more daring than she felt.
His arms tightened, and her breasts were crushed against the hardened muscles of his broad chest. “If I wanted, I could take you right here on the floor.”
She almost panicked but held her ground with shaking legs. “That would prove you the rutting animal I think you to be.”
“You have only yourself to blame. You provoke me, you goad me, you turn me into a savage.” He released her, and they stood glaring and panting, their blood high.