Virginia Henley

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by The Raven


  “Mine will be the loudest,” he assured her.

  She rose to bid him good-bye, and suddenly he did not want her to leave. “You cannot go without taking dinner with me, Lady Roseanna.”

  She hesitated. She knew the value of leaving a man when he desired more of your company. “I’m sorry, I must go. It is starting to snow, and I don’t want to get caught in a storm.”

  He wanted to ask her to stay the night, but this would place him in the same light as the seducer she was running from. “May I visit you?” he asked eagerly.

  “Please do. It is very kind of you to want to check on my welfare, my lord.”

  “Line,” he begged.

  A week passed, a week in which Roseanna scanned the horizon and prayed to God that the Duke of Clarence had enough trouble on his hands that he had no time to spare her a thought. It was agony for her to live without Roger, and she missed her baby so much, she wanted to scream.

  She looked out from her bedchamber window; her heart caught in her throat as she saw riders approach. When she recognized the Earl of Lincoln’s silvery hair, she went weak with relief. With shaking fingers she brushed her hair and went down to greet him. “Line!” she cried joyfully; his heart lifted that she welcomed him so warmly. She wore a simple white linen dress, and with her dark hair loose and falling to the hem of the gown, she looked heartbreakingly young. She was the loveliest, most desirable creature he’d ever known, and he wanted her.

  “Roseanna,” he breathed. “Lord God, the days have dragged since I saw you.” He took her hands between his, then raised them to his lips.

  “The days drag for me, too. I miss my son so much.”

  “Where is he?” he asked.

  She hesitated.

  “Trust me!” he begged.

  “He is with my mother at Castlemaine.”

  “I shall take you to visit him,” he declared.

  “Oh, no! Really?” she asked breathlessly.

  “What is there to stop us?” he asked.

  “Nothing!” she cried joyfully. “Oh, Line, thank you for coming.”

  “Tell them to ready your carriage.” He grinned.

  “Let’s ride!” she suggested, suddenly bursting with energy.

  Kate served them a light repast, then helped Roseanna into a fetching black velvet riding dress and frilled white silk shirt. Line was concerned when he saw Zeus, but his fears were put to rest as he watched her mount and ride from the stables. “Wait until you see the horses at Castlemaine! My father breeds the finest horses in England.”

  Joanna was at her best when entertaining. She had a knack for creating intimacy without sacrificing formal traditions. Line marveled at Neville’s stable and listened attentively while the older man went into detail about Roseanna’s natural ability when it came to horse breeding. He watched Roseanna with her child and knew these two should not be parted.

  They decided to stay overnight. When it was time to retire, Roseanna showed him to a guest chamber. He pulled her inside and took her into his arms. His lips came down on hers, leaving her in no doubt that he hotly desired her.

  “Roseanna, I’m in love with you,” he murmured against her hair.

  She put her fingers to his lips to stop his words, then slipped quietly from the room.

  Joanna was in her bedchamber before Roseanna was, admiration gleaming in her eyes. “By God, you wasted no time! Are you prepared to give him what he is after?”

  “Yes! I’ll become his mistress if that’s what it takes to protect my son from that pig Clarence.”

  “I’d better leave before he seeks your chamber,” teased Joanna. “Sleep well, darling.”

  Line did not come, although Roseanna had half expected that he would. In the morning she said her goodbyes reluctantly, not relinquishing her son until the last possible moment.

  Line was unusually silent on the return ride to Ravenspur. Roseanna knew that when they got back and were private, he would make his move. As they neared home, the snowflakes turned to rain; then a sudden downpour forced them to dash from the stables to the house before they became drenched. They ran inside laughing; then as she shook the raindrops from her fur cape, he enfolded her in his arms and said, “Marry me, Roseanna.”

  She was stunned. This wasn’t what she had intended at all! “Oh, Line, whatever have I done?” she whispered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t marry you; I can’t marry anyone. I’ve only just lost my husband. I loved him so deeply, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love anyone else.” She knew with certainty that Roger had been the grand passion of her life and that none would ever take his place. She was perfectly willing to become Line’s mistress, but to become his wife was out of the question.

  His eyes were like silver ice. “Then tell me, why did you come to me? What was all this about?” he demanded quietly.

  “I needed your help, your protection, and in exchange I thought I would—” She stopped, embarrassed.

  “Give me your body?” he shouted. “Roseanna, I don’t want just your body, I want you. God’s feet, since I became Earl of Lincoln, women lie down for me before I’ve even glanced in their direction. I don’t want you for a casual tumble! I want you for my wife.”

  “Why?” she asked, trying to follow his reasoning.

  “For a hundred reasons. You have an air of fine breeding about you that tells me you would make a magnificent countess. I enjoy being with you; I enjoy your vitality, your intelligence. I want you to give me a son like the one you gave Ravenspur. And yes, I want every other man to be sea green with envy because you belong to me! Roseanna, marriage is the only honorable estate.”

  He is so young, he is still idealistic, she thought sadly. “Forgive me, Line. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said softly. “I care for you a great deal, but my heart is encased in ice at the moment.”

  He smiled into her eyes and brushed his lips across her troubled brow. “Perhaps if I give you time, it will thaw a little.”

  She watched him walk away; she didn’t call him back.

  Christmas was almost upon them. To cheer herself one December afternoon, she thought she might ride out to gather holly to festoon Ravenspur, but a lethargy crept upon her. She had begun to live in the past. If only she could turn back the clock! If only her little family could celebrate Christmas together again! If only Roger …

  Line’s visits had stopped. Though Kate did not reprove her for sending him away, Roseanna knew the practical North-country woman thought her God’s own fool.

  She was almost afraid of her mother’s reaction when she learned that her daughter had turned down a marriage proposal from the Earl of Lincoln.

  This day, though it was only midafternoon, the light was already waning. As Roseanna lit candles, her nostrils pinched distastefully at the smell of the hot candle wax. She would go to bed early. What else is there to do? she thought listlessly as she slowly ascended the staircase. Suddenly, the door was thrown open below, and the Duke of Clarence and his gentlemen crowded into the hall. Her lethargy vanished instantly. It was replaced by hot, seething anger.

  “Christ, little girl, the place is like a tomb! Throw open the wine cellars. Henry, get some young girls from the village, and we’ll have a party.” They were drunk, and the men laughed helplessly whenever George spoke.

  “Get out!” she cried.

  “What? Is that a fitting welcome for your lover?” He leered. “I’ve come to give you your Christmas present.”

  “You conceited pig!”

  “Bitch!” he snarled, and took the stairs two at a time.

  She threw a heavy silver candelabrum at his head and ran along the second-floor landing. Then she ran into a bedroom and fastened the door tightly against him. He kicked the door in rage until the frame splintered and it gave way.

  She backed away from him. “If you touch me again, I’ll make sure Warwick learns of it. If scandal is to your taste, I’ll give you a feast!”

  “’Ti
s no scandal to bed a whore,” he sneered.

  “I am the King’s daughter. You are my uncle. What you do is incest!”

  “Lying bitch!” He drew back his arm and knocked her halfway across the room. “Where is your son?”

  “With my sister-in-law,” she half lied.

  His hands dipped into the neck of her gown, and he tore it from her body. She cowered like a cornered animal, and he became aroused. “You are very like your brother; he was a particular favorite of mine.”

  “He’s dead, thank God,” she spat.

  His eyes narrowed cruelly. “Your brother dead—your husband dead. Isn’t it strange that death always comes in threes? Where did you say the child was? With your mother at Castlemaine?”

  “No, no!” cried Roseanna, paralyzed with fear.

  He smiled slowly as he removed his clothes. “If it is true that you are Edward’s misbegotten lovechild, I shall enjoy your total submission.”

  And submit I did, she thought later, brokenly, as her sobs were turning to dry heaves. Clarence was long gone, and the house was so still, one could hear the ghosts walk. When Kate helped bathe her, she saw a large blue bruise across her breast and said, “Be a sensible lass; go to Lincoln.”

  Roseanna nodded, unable to speak.

  She put aside her mourning garb and donned her crimson gown slashed with silver in honor of the festive season. When she arrived, with Kate and Mr. Burke in tow, she found Lincoln Castle in the midst of Christmas celebrations. The courtyard was filled with villagers, and the stables were bulging with mounts belonging to Lincoln’s guests. The earl had his whole family there, including his mother, his three sisters, their husbands, and his two young brothers. When he saw her, his face lit up. He went forward to take her hands in his. “Roseanna!” he exclaimed.

  “Can we talk in private, Line?” she asked.

  He took her into a small anteroom off the ballroom. Kate Kendall and James Burke stood outside the door, trying to ignore the stares they were receiving.

  Roseanna was suddenly tongue-tied. She stammered, “I—missed you.”

  “Oh, love, if you will only marry me, it will put an end to all your fears. I’ll become your son’s legal guardian and your devoted protector.”

  “Your family—will they not object to me?”

  “Roseanna, I am the paymaster. Every one of them depends on me for their living—and a damned good living it is, too. They have no say in anything.”

  “Send for the priest,” she whispered.

  “Now?” he asked incredulously.

  She nodded. The priest was sent for, and Kate and Mr. Burke were brought into the chamber to act as witnesses. When Line and Roseanna emerged from the anteroom, he led her to the top of the ballroom and held up his hands for everyone’s attention. Grinning like a lunatic, he said in his deep rich voice, “Ladies and gentlemen, I wish to present the Countess of Lincoln.”

  There was a stunned silence that lasted for minutes; then a whisper grew into a rumble and finally a tumultuous roar as everyone realized the handsome earl had just taken a bride. He hugged her to him; her cheek felt the brown velvet of his doublet, and her eyes saw clearly the rich sheen on his sable collar, and she was giddy with relief.

  “What would you like for a wedding present, my love? I will give you anything you desire.”

  “I want you to take me to get my son,” she said simply.

  “Now?” he asked incredulously.

  She nodded. He threw back his head and laughed. “Then so be it! We’ll do it up right—we will take an escort of fifty.”

  It was past midnight when the cavalcade rode into Castlemaine, but because of the Christmas revels, they hadn’t yet retired for the night. When Joanna and Neville heard the news, they were beside themselves with happiness at their daughter’s great good fortune. The celebrations took on new life and would last until morning.

  Roseanna hardly waited until a toast was drunk to their health before she headed upstairs to see her son. When she saw him lying in the cradle, safe and peaceful in his slumber, she began to sob with relief. Line came up behind her. She turned her face into his chest, and the floodgates opened.

  “Hush, my love, hush,” he soothed. But she could not stop. Looking apologetically at Joanna, he lifted Roseanna into his arms and carried her to the bedchamber Joanna indicated.

  Roseanna cried herself into a state of exhaustion. Very gently he undressed her and put her to bed. He saw the bruise and began to understand what she had been through. He undressed quickly, got into bed, and gently drew her against him. He brushed back her long hair and placed his lips against her temple.

  “I’m sorry, Line,” she whispered.

  “It will do you good to cry; cry it all out. If it is inside, it has got to come out.” Silently, he thought, I’ll see to it that that bastard never becomes King!

  As she lay in his arms, her fears vanished one by one until she finally slept. After about two hours something wakened her, and she was disoriented for a few moments. Then she remembered her new husband and sat up on one elbow to look at him. How lucky she was that he was so kind and understanding! Poor Line—to spend his wedding night with an hysterical bride! Her heart overflowed with gratitude; she bent over and gently kissed him. He awoke instantly. “Roseanna!” he whispered huskily.

  He was young and extremely virile. He was quick to desire and quick to take his release. He was madly in love with her and went over the moon at her generous response to him. She realized that she had complete power over him; she would have to be very careful never to hurt him.

  Roseanna’s marriage to the Earl of Lincoln effectively removed her and her son from any contact with or even threats from the Duke of Clarence. Although there was much discord among the nobility, Warwick decided to restore mad King Henry to the throne. George, Duke of Clarence, was bitterly resentful that the crown he had coveted for so long was being handed to another. He now hated Warwick’s authority, and he rained curses on Elizabeth Woodville, who was the author of all his misfortunes, he thought. It dawned on him that he had been better off under Edward’s rule than he was under Warwick’s. He would gladly return to Edward if his brother could be restored to the Crown.

  The Earl of Lincoln knew he must go to London for the recrowning of King Henry. The nobility were flocking to London, where a great procession through the streets was being planned. Warwick’s brother, the Archbishop of York, was the first to reach the capital and pay homage. London was soon filled with Warwick’s men in smart red livery, speaking in their barbaric northern accents.

  Roseanna begged Line to let her stay at home. He accepted her excuse that she was still unused to her position as Countess of Lincoln; but he also knew she wanted to spend some quiet time with her son. It was decided that she would stay at Ravenspur while Line was away. Old Dobbin once again brought all Roseanna’s mares up from Castlemaine, and her time was almost totally taken up with their foaling.

  During the month that Line was away, the mare that had been covered by Zeus produced a fine black colt, and Roger’s stallion sired twins on one mare and a sturdy, sable-colored colt on another. She couldn’t wait to see the results of the three white mares that Mecca had covered. The Arabian was no more, but she had high hopes for his progeny.

  The first mare had a difficult time; Roseanna spent two days in the stables soothing the restless animal and helping it with the delivery. She fed it warm gruel, then warm ale, and finally black treacle before she could rid it of the afterbirth. The results of the matings were well worth the money and time she invested. Within a couple of years Ravenspur’s stables would equal those of Castlemaine.

  When Line returned he hesitated to tell her the latest rumors that were thick as flies in London. Word had it that Edward had not been idle during the months he’d been in exile. He had applied everywhere he could for loans of ships and money and fighting men to help him retake England. He asked for weapons and horses but no supplies that would take up valuable ship space.
The Hanse merchants, it was rumored, had pledged a great fleet of ships and fifteen hundred soldiers. He had apparently signed bonds for loans with the French, Germans, and Dutch. Warwick was alarmed. If Edward landed in Norfolk, the most likely port, the Duke of Norfolk, a great landowner who was Edward’s kinsman would undoubtedly give him support.

  Warwick took the Duke of Norfolk into custody and was about to arrest Lord Howard as another Yorkist supporter, but Howard eluded him by going into sanctuary at Colchester. Warwick ordered all his nobles to take a firm grip on their own territory and defend it against a landing and invasion.

  The Earl of Oxford had control of the east of England, so Warwick felt secure that if Edward landed there he would quickly be defeated. He ordered George to go into Somerset and raise an army and at the same time patrol the borders along the Bristol Channel to prevent a landing.

  Roseanna listened quietly as Line repeated the news to her. She was torn emotionally, for if the news were true it would mean a war in which Line would be involved. In her heart she wanted King Edward to regain his crown, but her husband would be fighting against him; he had pledged himself to Warwick on his guarantee that George, Duke of Clarence, would not be crowned. Although her son’s castles, land, and titles had come through Edward, it was Line who had secured them for him.

  She tried to push all thoughts of war away from her. She would remain neutral—it was the only way she could retain her sanity. She wished she had Kate to talk with, but Kate and James Burke were keeping Ravenspur working smoothly while she was in Lincoln.

  She busied herself with her child and spent a lot of time in the stables at Lincoln Castle trying desperately to ignore Line’s fighting men and archers as they sharpened their war skills.

  Roseanna awoke with a headache. She winced and put her hand to her forehead. Line chuckled. “Serves you right for taking too much wine last night.” Then his face became serious as he asked anxiously, “Roseanna, do you need wine before you can give yourself to me?”

  She stared at him aghast. Their intimate relationship had always left something to be desired as far as she was concerned, but she had no idea that he was aware of it. He was always so quick to passion that it left her feeling vaguely unsatisfied and empty. She felt guilty at this moment, for she knew that if she had taken the time, she could have schooled him to be leisurely in his lovemaking. Then he could explore his own sensuality to its limits, too. She was far more skilled in every aspect of making love than he, and she knew how to make a man feel virile. In fairness to him, she realized it was time to put quality into their bed play. She touched his face tenderly. “Line, how would you like me to make love to you for a change tonight?”

 

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