Claire grinned and edged out of her chamber, shutting the door behind her. She looped her arm though Desmona’s and nodded at the hall looming ahead. “Shall we take a walk?”
“As long as we don’t go outside,” Desmona said. “It’s frightfully cold.”
They walked to the western wing, where the halls were the widest and decorated with lavish paintings that rivaled those she’d seen in Hohenzollern. Desmona carried the conversation, talking about everything from the weather to her latest embroidery to the most recent news from the Free Cities. Claire listened, enjoying the younger woman’s company and the distraction she provided from her fretting over her marriage.
“Has Galien treated you well? If he’s given you the least bit of trouble, I will push him out of a window, my dear,” Desmona said with a laugh, her high-pitched voice carrying through the halls.
“Yes, he has treated me well,” Claire said, not keen to divulge anything more, though she longed to ask if Desmona knew of Galien’s relationship with the golden-haired woman.
“I heard your brother is the duke and he arranged this marriage, and by a bit of luck Galien found you but a day’s travels away at Hohenzollern. Was it dreadful? The battle, I mean?”
The sound of arrows zipping through the air, glimpsing fallen men in the bailey, and the cold terror of the moment enemy soldiers rushed into the castle resurfaced in Claire’s mind. She looked down at the stone floor, unsure of how to answer Desmona’s question. The truth was the battle had been the most terrifying event of her life, holed up in the castle with crying ladies and frightened children. The screams of the wounded had haunted her dreams last night. She had tried to be brave, but all through her escape attempt she had been trembling and her heart had been racing.
“It’s all right,” Desmona said, covering Claire’s hand and squeezing. “You don’t have to tell me. That was a silly question. I am probably talking too much. Trent and Gaston are always scolding me for saying the wrong things, and for not knowing when it’s best to be silent.”
“It was terrifying,” Claire said, meeting the girl’s gaze. “I tried to escape after Princess Susanna surrendered.”
“Ah, but Galien found you.”
“He saved me from an awful mercenary who wished to take me as a wife.” Had Galien not intervened, the mercenary would’ve likely succeeded.
“That’s so romantic,” Desmona said. “Your rescuer and your husband. Did you love him at first sight then?”
Claire bit her lip and restrained a laugh. Desmona, bless her and her naivety, viewed love and marriage, and the world for that matter, through a pretty haze of colors. “No, I did not love him at first sight, but I have found him to be a kind and noble man, much more chivalrous than my first husband.” Claire pondered telling Desmona about how she’d threatened Galien with a knife in an effort to escape, but she worried the truth might cause the girl to swoon, so she wisely bit her tongue.
“Well, I think it’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. I know you will fall in love with him soon, and he will fall deeply in love with you—if he hasn’t already, that is.”
Before Claire had glimpsed the golden-haired woman touching Galien’s arm and laughing with him, she might have believed Desmona’s wistful proclamation. But how could she harbor tender emotions for a man who entertained other women?
* * *
Galien eyed Claire and decided her demeanor had been overly polite during the evening meal, and he had also noticed she had only taken a few bites of food from the trencher they shared. She was performing again, and it troubled him that she was gracing him with faux smiles and trying to make him believe in her happiness. He leaned close to her and she stiffened.
“Claire,” he said in a low voice, “What is troubling you?”
Her gaze flickered to his with obvious hesitance, and she feigned surprise with a shake of her head. “Why nothing, lord husband. I am perfectly fine.” Another smile spread across her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“I am going to ask you one more time what is bothering you, Claire, and I suggest you tell me. I will not tolerate lies. Now, sweet wife, what has you behaving so strange this evening?”
“Very well,” she said, folding her hands on her lap. “I saw you conversing with a lady of questionable repute, a woman with golden hair, and I am concerned about your relationship with her. Furthermore, I would like to know how often you plan to entertain other women. My lord.” This time, Claire didn’t try to make her voice sweet or offer him a smile. She glared daggers at him, and when she reached for her wine goblet, he feared she intended to fling the contents of the cup into his face.
“Careful, my lady. You wouldn’t want to do something you might come to regret.” He reached for her hands and held them in both of his, drawing his thumb over the soft undersides of her wrists. By God, Claire was jealous of Agnete, the woman who had spoken with him in the bailey earlier. “Claire, I have spent much of my time entertaining women of questionable repute, particularly in my younger days, and I will not deny it. But you needn’t worry. Those days have ended.”
“You mean because you were ordered to marry me? I very much doubt you would change your lascivious ways just because you’ve been forced to take a wife.” Anger threaded her words, and she lowered her gaze, her body trembling.
“Claire, look at me.”
Hard blue eyes met his. “Do not fret, my lord, for I will not keep you from your dalliances. I simply wish to know why I am not permitted my own chambers, if this sort of thing is your habit. Is it your plan to come to bed stinking of a whore every night and then expect me to spread my legs for you?”
Galien’s cousin, Lady Desmona, launched into a coughing fit beside Claire and turned away, reaching for her wine. Others at the head table, including Galien’s recently arrived uncle, sported uncomfortable expressions. Claire’s voice had carried, whether she had intended it to or not. He gave her the benefit of the doubt and nodded at the bread pudding a servant had placed in front of her.
“Eat that, all of it, and then we will retire to our chambers to finish this discussion in private. You will sit here and be sweet and smile, and not utter another word, Claire. I will not have you making a spectacle.”
A smile lit her face and she turned to face him. “I recommend you shove the bread pudding up the same orifice I once suggested you shove your dreams,” she said in a hushed tone. She pushed back from the table, stood up, and dipped into a curtsey. “My lord.”
Desmona shot him a censuring glance and leaned across Claire’s vacant seat. “I promised Lady Claire I would push you out a window if you treated her poorly, cousin. I was teasing, of course, but now I’m afraid I must kindly ask you to stand yourself in front of a window.”
“Enough,” Trent said, putting a firm hand on his sister’s shoulder. “You have no business nosing about in our cousin’s affairs.”
Desmona glared at her oldest brother, her normally rosy cheeks turning bright red under her rising anger. “Lady Claire and I have become the best of friends, and I will not see her treated so unfairly.”
“You will quiet down this instant, sister, or I will call for a birch rod and send you off to bed with a well-punished bottom.” Trent directed a reprimanding glare at her until she lowered her gaze, mumbling an apology and a promise to behave.
Galien remained in the hall for only a short time after this, staying only as long as it took his uncle to question him about his new holdings in the valley. The conversation served as a sharp reminder that his marriage to the unwilling Lady Claire was anything but a love match, and the responsibility to make her heel rested on his shoulders alone. He made his excuses and departed the hall, marching straight to his chambers.
He flung the door open and his gaze swept around the room, finding it empty. Cursing under his breath, he searched the halls for his headstrong wife, his anger rising with each moment that he failed to locate her. Finally, one of the footmen claimed to have seen her entering D
esmona’s chamber, and Galien headed to his cousin’s room and burst inside without bothering to knock.
A panicked look flittered over Desmona’s face, and he found her stance next to her bed quite odd. She twisted her fingers in front of her in a nervous manner.
“I am searching for my wife, cousin. Have you seen her, or do you know where she is?” Galien approached Desmona and towered over her, hoping a quick intimidation would make her confess, because he very much suspected his cousin was helping Claire hide.
“I haven’t seen the poor Lady Claire since you broke her heart during the evening meal, my lord.” She swallowed hard and glanced at her bed, just a brief passing of her eyes, but Galien took note of it.
“What’s going on?” Trent’s voice boomed from the doorway. He entered the room and crossed his arms as he regarded his sister. “I heard Lady Claire is missing, Desmona. Do you know anything about that?”
“As I just told Galien, I haven’t an idea where his wife has gone. Perhaps if he treated her with kindness and didn’t quench his sinful appetites with the village whores, Claire would not be missing.” Her voice trembled and tears glistened in her eyes.
Galien couldn’t believe the course of events that had taken place just because he’d had a quick conversation with Agnete this afternoon, the golden-haired woman Claire had become so jealous of. Yes, he had lain with Agnete a few times before, but he hadn’t made arrangements to do so again. He’d told Agnete he planned to stay true to his lady wife, and the woman had joked that all the tavern wenches would become destitute having lost their best customer. Had he known Claire was watching, he would’ve snubbed Agnete and kept walking.
“I think you know where she is.” Galien looked at Desmona, and he felt a pang of pity for his young cousin. Her heart rested in the right place, but he doubted Trent would be lenient with her once her complicity in Claire’s disappearance was revealed.
“I swear I know not where Claire is hiding,” she said, backing against the wall as her brother walked toward her.
“Shall I spank you now or later, Desmona? Because I know you are lying, and I will not tolerate such naughty behavior from my only sister.” Trent tipped her chin up and she burst into tears.
“Enough!” a voice from behind the bed shouted. Claire jumped up and moved to Trent, placing a hand on his arm. “She was only trying to help me. I asked her to hide me, because I knew Galien would look for me in our chambers. Please do not punish her.”
Galien strode to Claire and grasped her arm, spinning her to face him. “This matter is entirely between Trent and his sister. Now come, we are going to our chambers, to discuss a matter that is entirely between us.” He guided her out of Desmona’s chamber while Trent continued scolding his tearful sister.
The servants rushed out of their path as he marched Claire to their chambers. She had caused a scene in the great hall, and she had also taken advantage of Desmona’s sweet, giving nature, and now the poor girl would be sitting as uncomfortably as Claire the next day. All because of a little jealousy. Galien intended to give Claire a most thorough spanking, and then he intended to spend the rest of the night proving he desired no other woman but her.
“Please, Galien, can we slow down?” Tears wavered on Claire’s eyelashes, and her lip trembled. She shook in his arms.
He slowed his pace but maintained his hold on her, not giving her the opportunity to escape. “You have erred much this evening, Claire, and I am very disappointed in your behavior.”
“Please, my lord, I am so sorry. Please don’t be angry.” She tried to twist from his grasp as the door to their chambers came into sight. “Galien, no! I don’t wish to go in there with you!”
Galien had no choice but to lift Claire up and half carry, half drag her to the door. A footman at the end of the hall ducked his head, tactfully ignoring their quarrel.
“You are making this worse for yourself, Claire. The more you fight me, the harder I shall thrash your bare little arse.” After a great deal of effort, he managed to get his protesting lady into their chambers with the door bolted behind them. “Cease, now!” His booming shout echoed off the stone walls.
Claire covered her ears and stilled within his arms, or at least made the attempt. She was shaking so hard her teeth chattered intermittently. “Please don’t yell at me,” she whispered through an especially hard shudder. “I know I was foolish, and I am so very sorry, my lord.”
Holding her out by her shoulders, he studied her frightful reaction to his yell. She’d been scared and shaking before he raised his voice, but not as violently as now. He pondered this for but a moment before realization dawned, and his throat burned as guilt filled him. “Did Diterich yell at you?” he asked in a gentle tone.
She gave a short nod and the tears welling in her eyes overflowed, trickling down her face as she sniffled. “All the time.” Her hands still cupped her ears, and he gently pried them away.
“I promise I will not yell at you again, sweet Claire, even when I am especially angry with you. I am sorry I frightened you so. Come here,” he said, drawing her against his chest. He rested his chin atop her head and stroked the back of her neck, tangling his fingers in the short soft hairs that had resisted her coif.
Her arms remained at her sides at first, but she gradually brought them up around his waist, accepting the comfort he wished to give her. He cursed himself for raising his voice so. He had never yelled at a lady before, and the guilt of losing his temper nagged at his heart. Regret flowed through him, because in a few moments he had to punish her. After all the trouble she’d caused, he couldn’t go easy on her either. His sweet Claire saved him the guilt though when she surprised him with a sudden pronouncement.
“I am ready now, my lord,” she said, pulling back but keeping her gaze on his chest. “F-for my spanking, that is.”
Chapter Six
“Let us talk first,” Galien said, guiding her to the bed. He sank down atop the covers and drew her into his lap, cradling her in his arms with a tenderness that made her want to cry all over again.
She wiped the last of her tears away and wished he’d just spank her. Married men weren’t required to be chaste as wives were, and if he wished to tumble a whore now and then what right did she have to stop him? Making a scene in the great hall had been unwise, and she felt doubly guilty for getting Desmona into trouble. Even worse, his father was to be buried tomorrow, and she belittled herself for not keeping her grievances to herself during this time of mourning. Oh, how she had made a mess of things.
“I realize most men stray from their wives,” she said, peering into his dark eyes. “It is quite common, and I confess I did not become so upset when Lord Diterich invited a whore into his chambers. I do not know what came over me, my lord, and I beg your forgiveness. You, of course, are free to do as you wish. I hold no dominion over you.” How foolish she’d been to think her second marriage would be different than her first.
“Claire, you do hold dominion over me, because I desire no other woman but you.”
“Have you been with that woman before? The one with the golden hair?” Pain squeezed her heart, because she already knew the truth.
“Aye, Claire, I have lain with Agnete many times, and other women as well. But not since we’ve been wed, and I have no plans to seek fulfillment outside of our marriage bed. I give you my word.”
“How do I know you speak the truth?”
“Because I gave you my word, sweet Claire.” He spoke with conviction, but doubt still waged a battled against hope in her heart.
Many a man had broken promises to Claire over the course of her lifetime, starting with her father. He’d promised she would not wed Diterich once, after the elderly lord first expressed interested in her, and she still felt a jab of betrayal each time she remembered the day her father reneged on his promise. “If you break your promise, I wish for permission to go live with my brother, Duke Leuthold.”
Galien sighed and toyed with the blue veil that casca
ded down her back from her elaborate headdress. Hesitation overtook his features, and she suspected he intended to refuse her request. It was unheard of for a lady to leave her husband, though to the world it could simply appear as if she were spending a lengthy visit with her brother. At first, anyway. She imagined Galien breaking his promise and bedding Agnete and all the other village whores, and she imagined journeying to Leuthold to spend the rest of her days with a broken heart. Hot tears gathered in her eyes as she envisioned a future without Galien, even if was because he betrayed her with another woman. The moment dragged on, and she wondered if he meant to ignore her ultimatum.
“Very well, Claire. If I break my promise, I will send you to live with your brother.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Know that it will never come to pass, my sweet Claire. When I give my word, I always keep it, and I mean to keep you. You are my wife.” A possessive edge hardened his words, and his gaze grew intense as he stared down at her, still stroking her veil and her hair.
She sent up a silent prayer that he spoke the truth, for if he broke his promise her pride wouldn’t allow her to remain at Minrova, even if she forgave him his transgressions and wished to remain at his side.
“Henceforth when something upsets you, Claire, I expect you to speak with me about it in a civil manner. You imagined that I meant to betray you just because you saw me speaking with Agnete for all of a moment, and you made a scene in the great hall in front of my cousins, my uncle, my aunt, and many of my men.”
She shrank under his admonishment, her shame over her behavior making her cheeks flush and her heart ache. The strangest part of all was her desire to be over his lap already. She longed to put the punishment behind them, and in the very core of her being she ached for his forgiveness. But she also feared the impending pain and embarrassment, and she sat still as he continued scolding her.
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