by The Raven
Roseanna would not back down, so Roger made up his mind to make her. Very deliberately, he hooked his hands into the neckline of her gown and tore the bodice to the waist. Her bare breasts sprung out at him.
“How dare you!” she cried.
But he ignored her. His head swooped down, and he took her pink nipple into his mouth and sucked hard. At the same time his right hand went up her skirt and his fingers played where they would until he felt her wet and soft. She writhed, trying to escape his grasp, but he was too strong for her. At last he let her go and ordered, “Be on your best behavior tonight when we dine in the hall before our people.”
Stunned by his outrageous actions, she nonetheless knew he was at his limit and that pushed further he would indeed be bold enough to take her there on the floor. “Of course I shall be on my best behavior,” she said, clutching the ripped bodice and trying unsuccessfully to cover her breasts. “These people are mine now as well as yours.”
He allowed her to move past him to leave. When she had safely gained the door, she said, “You owe me a new gown, Ravenspur.”
His dark eyes gazed at her breasts. “You’re well worth the price of a dress, Roseanna.”
Roseanna had felt his kiss all the way down to her legs; they had actually become wobbly. Damn him, she thought. Damn herself, while she was at it. Whenever he touched her, she was driven so wild that she wanted to scream. Yet she couldn’t resist tempting him, so that she almost dared him to touch her.
As Roger went down to the courtyard, he thought, Damn her! She lures me, then rebuffs me, daring my manhood. He wasn’t going to put up with it any longer. If force was necessary, then so be it!
Roseanna stepped inside his personal apartments and quickly repaired the top of her gown as best she could. Then she donned her cloak and looked around her. His chamber had every comfort imaginable. The blazing fire reflecting the paneled walls and deeply polished furniture was warm and welcoming. The bed was massive and curtained against the draughts. Fur rugs covered the floors, and a large wardrobe extended the length of one whole wall. By the slitted window sat a desk piled with books and papers that quickened her curiosity. But she did not tarry lest he return.
The rooms on the west side of the third level were all plainly yet adequately furnished, but Roseanna searched farther afield. In the northeast corner she came across an outer chamber that connected to an inner chamber through a little vaulted door. It was perfect for her needs, yet the rooms were empty and obviously hadn’t been used in some time.
She left quickly to find Alice and Kate. It would take a good deal of work to plenish those chambers before nightfall, but she was determined to do it. “Kate, you know best which wagons hold our furnishings. See if you can get the servants or even some of Ravenspur’s men to bring all our stuff up here, and I’ll go and see about getting fires lit in these rooms. Alice, you are not to lift anything heavy. You can find out which chamber Rebecca uses while she is here.”
Roseanna soon found a squire, who brought live coals from another fireplace; then she sent him off for some flagons of wine. When Kate hadn’t returned in twenty minutes, Roseanna went down to find her. She stood in the entrance hall amid piles of bedding, tapestries, and carpets, hands on hips, engaging Mr. Burke in one of the fiercest battles Roseanna had ever heard.
“In a pig’s arsehole!” shouted Kate, red in the face.
Roseanna gasped. She was aware that Kate Kendall was a formidable opponent in an argument, but she had never heard her use such vulgarities before.
Mr. Burke stood his ground. “You miserable woman. Get it through your thick skull that I am in charge around here. If I were daft enough not to take her things to the master’s bedchamber, he’d cut my balls off!”
“Ha! Out of my way, you pisspot, or I’ll pound your balls to powder—that is, if you have any,” shouted Kate.
Roseanna choked back laughter. Whatever had gotten into Kate? Didn’t she know that that wasn’t the way to handle a man? “Mr. Burke, is there some problem?” she asked sweetly.
He turned to her, and his manner did an about-face. “No problem whatsoever, ma’am. You just let me know your wishes, and I’ll move heaven and earth to see that they are carried out.”
Kate muttered, “You can always tell an Irishman, but you can’t tell him much!”
Roseanna quickly held up her hand to warn Kate. She smoothly put her other arm through Mr. Burke’s. “Do come upstairs, Mr. Burke, and see the wonderful rooms I’ve chosen. You run such an efficient household, the squires have already lit fires for me.” They entered the rooms. “Now, I thought I’d take the inner room for myself, and my two serving ladies can have the outer chamber. I have brought with me beds and linen, carpets and coffers, and dozens of beautiful tapestries to cover the walls. But alas, I fear it would take Kate weeks to furnish the rooms well, as it should be done.”
“Tonight, ma’am.” He nodded firmly.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Burke?” She hung on his every word helplessly.
“While you are in the hall tonight for supper, I shall see that these rooms are made ready down to the last detail. By the time you are ready to retire, you will think you have lived here for years. Leave everything to me, my lady.”
“Oh, I will, Mr. Burke. You have no idea what a relief it is to know I can place complete confidence in you.”
Kate exploded the moment he was out of earshot. “The constipated cockatrice! I was ready to shove a red-hot poker up his arse!”
“Very pretty sight,” said Roseanna, smiling.
“Oh, child, I’m sorry to use such language,” she apologized.
Roseanna laughed. “I’m happy to know I’m not the only one with a ripe vocabulary, but thank heaven Mother couldn’t hear you.”
“’Twas Lady Joanna taught me to curse”—Kate grinned shamefaced—“and ’twas the King taught her!”
“Oh, here are our trunks,” said Roseanna, throwing one open and pulling out some gowns. “Find me something special to wear, and we’ll go along to Rebecca’s chamber to change for dinner while they plenish these rooms for us.”
Rebecca was abed when they arrived at her room. Her servingwomen had already unpacked her clothes, along with Tristan’s, and had hung them in the wardrobe.
“Aren’t you going to dine in the hall tonight?” asked Roseanna, surprised to find her sister-in-law abed.
“I’m not hungry,” she said, “and far too fatigued. Why don’t you have a tray sent up, and we can have a visit?”
“If I know Ravenspur, he’ll come and drag me by the hair if I didn’t go down. This is my first night, and I’ve already been warned to be on my best behavior,” Roseanna said with a grimace.
Rebecca shuddered. “They’ll all want a good look at you, especially the women. They flirt openly with Tristan and Roger, you know. Every one of them is eager to lie with them.”
Roseanna’s eyebrows shot up. “Surely their husbands wouldn’t permit such behavior!” she protested.
Rebecca shrugged. “Some of them are widows of knights or daughters not yet married. Many of the men are at Ravenspur’s other strongholds. They are an uncouth lot, and I try not to mix with them.”
Roseanna was determined to outshine all the other females tonight. She chose a gown of the palest green. The underdress had hundreds of little pleats; its sleeves were transparent and edged with silver ribbon. The velvet tunic was split all the way up each side and was tied by silver ribbons to show off the filmy underdress. She let Alice brush out her long black hair and decided to wear it loose down her back, caught at one temple with a silver butterfly that her mother had fashioned for her.
A sudden thought came to her. She picked up the cloak she had worn and removed the diamond clasp from it. Then she pinned the large R between her breasts because her wicked juices had begun to bubble and she wanted to see Ravenspur’s eyes when they fell upon it. The corners of her mouth went up. The bauble was so glitteringly eye-catching, he wouldn’t be ab
le to keep his eyes from her breasts.
Roseanna insisted that Alice and Kate wear their most attractive gowns. She had decided they should sit at the head table in a place of honor because they were her special ladies. She made a point of arriving at the hall a few minutes late so that every eye would be upon her when she entered.
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.