The Taming

by Jude Deveraux

  “Liana,” he whispered, and took a step toward her.

  Liana turned away so quickly, his hair ruffled in the breeze she caused. “I have to return. I have to tell my father I agree to the marriage.”

  Sir Robert was so stunned he stood still for a moment, unable to move. Then he ran after Liana, grabbed her into his arms, and began kissing her neck and throat. “Oh my darling, you have made me the happiest man on earth. You don’t know what this means to me. We’ve been plagued with fires for the last year. I had nearly lost hope of being able to rebuild.”

  She pulled away from him. “I thought it was my golden hair and my sapphire eyes you desired.”

  “That, too, of course.” He took both her hands in his and began kissing them enthusiastically.

  She snatched her hands away and hurried toward her horse. “You’ll have to find someone else to rebuild for you. I’ve decided to marry the oldest Peregrine.”

  Sir Robert let out a yelp of genuine horror as he ran after her and caught her arm. “You cannot possibly consider any of them. They are—”

  She put her hand up to stop him. “It is not for you to decide. Now, I’m going to return to my house and you may remain here or go with me. When you do return, I suggest you take your men and leave the Neville lands and go in search of another heiress to repair your damaged estates. And next time, perhaps you’ll take better care of your properties and prevent the fires before they start.” She went to her horse and mounted.

  Sir Robert looked after her for a moment, his disappointment leaving him. Perhaps he was better off without this termagant. Marriage to a woman like her could be hell. Perhaps he’d rather lose a bit of land than saddle himself with this woman for the rest of his life.

  Like hell he would, he thought. Damn those Peregrines! Women seemed to like them in spite of their dirt and their lifelong battle for lands and titles that weren’t theirs. If Liana marries one of those Peregrines, within three years she’ll be old and worn out from being used harder than a plow horse, he thought with some satisfaction.

  He mounted his horse and followed her. It would be better to take his men and leave right away. He couldn’t bear to see the betrothal ceremony of the lovely Lady Liana and one of those Peregrines. He shrugged his shoulders. It was no longer any concern of his.

  Liana stood before her father and stepmother in the solar and made the announcement that she was going to marry Lord Rogan.

  “Wise choice, girl,” Gilbert said. “Best falconer in all of England.”

  Helen’s face was slowly turning purple. “Do not do this,” she said, gasping. “You are trying to spite me.”

  “I have done what you wanted and chosen a husband,” Liana said coolly. “I would think you’d be pleased with me.”

  Helen tried to calm herself, then she sank down heavily in her chair and threw her hands up in surrender. “You win. You may stay here. You may run the estates and the servants. You may have it all, for all I care. When I go to meet my God, I will not have it on my head that I forced my husband’s daughter to this living death. You win, Liana. Does this give you pleasure? Go now. Go from my sight. At least leave me this one room, where neither you nor your dead mother still rule.”

  Liana was puzzled by her stepmother’s speech and she thought about it as she turned to leave the room. She was nearly to the door when she realized what Helen was saying. She turned back quickly.

  “No,” she said with some urgency in her voice, “I want to marry this man. You see, I met him before. Yesterday. We were alone for a while and…” She looked down at her hands, her face red.

  “Oh dear God, he has raped her,” Helen said. “Gilbert, you must hang him.”

  “No!” Gilbert and Liana said in unison.

  “The hawks—” Gilbert began.

  “He didn’t—” Liana began.

  Helen put up her hands for silence, then clutched her belly. Her child would no doubt be born with cloven feet after the hell her stepdaughter had put her through during her pregnancy. “Liana, what has the beast done to you?”

  Made me wash his clothes, she thought. Kissed me. “Nothing,” she said. “He has not touched me.” She meant to say penance at mass for that lie. “Yesterday while I was riding, I met him and I…” She what? Liked him? Loved him? Hated him? Probably all of them. Whatever she felt for him, it was strong. “And I want to accept his offer of marriage,” she finished.

  “Good choice,” Gilbert said. “The boy is a man if ever I saw one.”

  “You’re a fool, Liana,” Helen whispered, her face pale. “Rarely does a girl have such a doting father that he will let her choose her own husband, and now I understand why. I would never have guessed you to be so stupid.” She sighed. “All right. It’s on your head now. When he beats you—if you’re still alive—you may return here and have your wounds dressed. Go now. I can’t bear the sight of you.”

  Liana didn’t move from where she was. “I do not want to meet him before the ceremony,” she said.

  “At last, some wisdom,” Helen said sarcastically. “Stay away from him as long as you can.”

  Gilbert was eating grapes. “He hasn’t asked to see you. I guess yesterday was enough, eh?” He grinned and winked at his daughter. He didn’t know when a woman had pleased him so much. The Peregrine boys might be a little rough around the edges, but that was because they were men, not popinjays ruled by women.

  “I guess so,” Liana said. She was afraid that if he saw her and realized she was the woman who’d tossed the clothes at him, he’d refuse to marry her. He didn’t like shrews, and if Rogan wanted a soft-spoken wife, then she was going to be a soft-spoken wife.

  “Well, it’s easy enough to arrange,” Gilbert said. “I’ll say you have the pox and he can exchange rings with a proxy. We’ll set the wedding for…” He looked at Helen, but she was stony and silent. “Three months. Is that all right with you, daughter?”

  Liana looked at Helen, and instead of hating her stepmother, she remembered the way Helen was ready to allow Liana to remain as a spinster in the Neville household. Perhaps Helen didn’t hate her after all. “I will need gowns,” Liana said softly. “And I will need household goods. Do you think you could help me choose what I need?”

  Helen looked bleak. “I cannot make you change your mind?”

  “No,” Liana said. “You cannot.”

  “Then I will help you,” Helen said. “If you died, I would help lay out your body for burial, so I will ready you for this.”

  “Thank you,” Liana said, smiling, and left the room feeling wonderfully light and happy. She had a great deal to do in the next three months.

  The Peregrine banner of a rampant white falcon on a red background with three horses’ skulls in a diagonal band across the falcon’s belly flew over the campsite. Some of the men slept in tents or under the baggage wagons, but Rogan and Severn lay on blankets on the ground, their bodies surrounded by weapons.

  “I don’t understand why she agreed to marry you,” Severn said once again. It was something he’d been puzzling on since Gilbert Neville had said his daughter had agreed to the marriage. Rogan had merely shrugged, then started negotiating what was to be included in the dowry. Neither Rogan nor Gilbert seemed to think it was odd that the young woman, after refusing most of England, should take Rogan sight unseen.

  “She turned down everyone else,” Severn said. “Not that I approve of allowing a girl to choose her own husband, but why would she say no to a man like Stephen Whitington?”

  Rogan turned onto his side, away from his brother, and grunted. “The girl has a head on her shoulders. She made the right choice.”

  It was Severn’s turn to grunt. “There’s more to it than you’re telling me. You didn’t seduce the girl in private, did you?”

  “I never laid eyes on her. I was too busy trying to seduce Neville out of his gold. Maybe he beat the girl and told her who she was to marry, just as he should have done in the first place.”

  “Perha
ps,” Severn said. “But I still think you—”

  Angrily, Rogan looked across the night at his brother. “I never met the girl, I told you. I was with Neville from morning till night.”

  “Except when you went off alone before we went to Neville’s castle.”

  “I didn’t—” Rogan began, then stopped and remembered the girl who’d complained about his clothes. He had forgotten about her until this moment. He’d have to remember to look for her when he returned in three months’ time for his wedding. “I didn’t see the heiress,” Rogan said softly. “Her father must have arranged the marriage. He’s a fool of a man and I could buy his soul for a dozen or so hawks.”

  “I doubt if you’d have to pay that much,” Severn scoffed, then paused a moment. “Weren’t you curious about the woman? I’d want to see a woman I was to marry before I married her. She could be fat and old for all you know.”

  “What do I care about a wife? It’s her lands I want. Now go to sleep, little brother, for tomorrow’s Wednesday and Wednesday takes a lot of energy.”

  Severn smiled in the darkness. Tomorrow he’d see Iolanthe and everything would be the same. But in three months’ time Lady Liana Neville would enter their lives and things would still remain the same, for if she was anything like her father, she was a cowardly little thing.

  Chapter

  Four

  No, no, no, my lady, good wives do not screech. Good wives obey their husbands,” Joice said. She was tired and exasperated. Lady Liana had asked her to teach her how to be a good wife, but Liana had had too much control for too long and it was almost impossible to make her understand how a wife was supposed to behave.

  “Even when he is a fool?” Liana asked.

  “Especially when he is a fool,” Joice answered. “Men like to believe they know everything, that they are always right, and they want absolute loyalty from their women. No matter how wrong your husband is, he will expect you to stand by him.”

  Liana listened to this carefully. This is not what her mother thought of marriage, nor did Helen. And neither of them had been beloved wives, she thought with a grimace. In the last month she’d come to realize how different she wanted her marriage to be from the two she’d seen. She didn’t want to live in hatred for the rest of her life. Her mother hadn’t seemed to mind the fact that she despised her husband, nor did Helen, but Liana wanted her life to be different. She’d seen a love match once of a couple who, after years of marriage, still gave one another long looks and sat for hours talking to each other. Liana wanted that kind of marriage.

  “And he’d rather have obedience than honesty?” Liana asked. “If he is wrong, I am not to tell him so?”

  “Most certainly not. Men like to think their wives believe them to be next to God in everything. Take care of his house, bear him sons, and when he asks your opinion, tell him that he knows much more about such matters than you do, that you are merely a woman.”

  “Merely a…” Liana said, trying to understand this. The only man she’d ever really known was her father, and she hated to think what the Neville lands would be like if her mother had refused to govern them. “But my father—”

  “Your father is not like most men,” Joice said as tactfully as possible. She had been stunned when Lady Liana had asked for her advice about men, but she thought it was high time. Liana had better learn what men were actually like before she tied herself to someone like those Peregrines. “Lord Rogan will not allow you such freedom as your father has.”

  “No, I guess not,” Liana said softly. “He has said he will marry no shrew.”

  “No man wants a shrew. He wants a woman who will praise him, who will see to his comfort, and who will be eager in bed.”

  Liana thought she could handle two of those points easily. “I’m not sure Lord Rogan believes in comfort. His clothes are dirty and I believe he does not bathe often.”

  “Ah, now there is where a wife can have power. All men like comfort. They like a certain dish for eating, a certain cup for their favorite drink, and whether your Lord Rogan knows it or not, he likes an orderly, quiet household. His wife should take care of the servants’ quarrels, she should see that his table is loaded with delicious food. You can replace his scratchy, dirty clothing with soft new ones. These are ways to a man’s heart.”

  “And if his lands are in a muddle, then I—”

  “Then that is his business. It is not a woman’s concern,” Joice said sharply.

  Liana thought it might be easier to run a hundred estates than to please one man. She wasn’t sure she could remember all the rules of what a man did and did not like. “You are sure of all this? Staying in the solar and tending merely to household business will win my husband’s heart?”

  “I am sure of it, my lady. Now, will you try on this new gown?”

  For three months Liana tried on new gowns. She ordered furs, Italian brocades, jewels. She set every woman who could hold a needle to embroidering. Not only did she order her own wardrobe, but she had a splendid set of clothing made for Lord Rogan. The only time her father took any notice of the proceedings was to remark that the bridegroom should dress himself. Liana took no notice of him.

  When she wasn’t with Helen working on her new wardrobe, Liana was supervising the packing of her dowry. All the Neville wealth that was not in land was in portable goods. Gold plates and ewers were packed in straw and put into wagons, as were precious glass vessels. She took tapestries, linens, pieces of carved-oak furniture, candles, feather pillows and mattresses. There were carts full of rich fabrics, furs, a fat iron-bound chest full of jewels and another of silver groats.

  “You will need everything,” Helen said. “Those men have not one comfort in their lives.”

  Liana smiled at that because perhaps the comfort she brought would help her husband love her.

  Helen saw Liana’s lovesick smile and groaned, but she didn’t try to talk to Liana again, as she’d seen how impossible it was to attempt to reason with her. Helen just helped to denude the Neville castle of its riches, and she gave Liana no more advice.

  The wedding was to be a small one, as the Nevilles were not favorites among the aristocracy and royalty of the land, for Gilbert’s father had purchased his earldom from the king only a few years before he died. There were still many people who could remember when the Nevilles were merely rich, ruthless merchants charging five times what they paid for an item. Liana was glad for the excuse to save the expense of an enormous wedding celebration so she’d have more to take with her to the Peregrine castle.

  Liana didn’t sleep much the night before her wedding. She kept going over in her mind the things she had learned about pleasing a husband, and she kept trying to visualize her new life. She tried to imagine lying in bed with the handsome Lord Rogan. She thought about his touching her and caressing her and saying tender words to her. She had decided not to be “married in her hair,” but to wear a jeweled headdress because she knew her long flaxen hair was her best feature and she wanted to share it with him and him alone on their wedding night. She imagined long walks together, as they laughed and held hands. She imagined sitting before the fire on a cold winter evening and reading aloud to him, or playing a game of draughts. Perhaps they’d play for kisses.

  She smiled in the darkness at the thought of what he would say when he discovered he’d married the woman by the pool. Of course that woman had been a shrew, but Rogan’s wife would be the demure, quiet, loving Lady Liana. She imagined his gratitude when she changed those dirty, rough clothes of his for fine silks and wools. She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined how incredibly handsome he would be dressed in dark velvet, green perhaps, with a jeweled chain extending from one broad shoulder to the other.

  She would introduce him to the pleasures of bathing with rose-scented oil in the tub. Perhaps afterward he’d rub oil into her skin, even between her toes, she thought with a sigh of heavenly pleasure. She imagined lying on a clean, soft featherbed and laughing together over t
heir first meeting—how childish they’d been not to have known at first sight that they were the love of each other’s lives.

  Just before dawn she dozed off, a smile on her lips, only to be awakened moments later by an unearthly clatter in the courtyard below. By the sound of the shouts of men and the clank of steel, they were being attacked. Who had left the drawbridge down?

  “Oh Lord, don’t let me die before I marry him,” Liana prayed as she leaped out of bed and began running.

  In the hall, Helen was also running, as was half the household, it seemed.

  Liana made her way through the chaos to her stepmother. “What is it? What has happened?” she shouted above the noise.

  “Your bridegroom has at last arrived,” Helen said angrily. “And he and all his men are drunk. Now someone who doesn’t value his life will have to get this Red Falcon of yours off his horse, bathed, dressed, and sober enough to say his vows to you.” She paused and gave Liana a look of sympathy. “You vow away your life today, Liana,” she said softly. “May God have mercy on your soul.” Helen turned and started down the stairs to the solar.

  “My lady,” Joice said from behind Liana. “You must return to your room. You cannot be seen on your wedding day.”

  Liana went back to her room and she even allowed Joice to coax her into bed, but she could not sleep. Once again Rogan was under the same roof as she was and soon…soon he’d be here in bed with her. Just the two of them. Alone and quiet and intimate. What would they talk about, she wondered. They knew so little about each other. Perhaps they’d talk about first learning to ride a horse or maybe he’d tell her about where he lived. This Peregrine castle would be Liana’s new home and she longed to know about it. She had to plan where her mother’s tapestries would be hung, where her gold plates would be set to best display them.

  She was so happy in her thoughts that she dozed off for a while until Joice came to wake her and four giggling maids began to dress her in red brocade with a cloth-of-gold underskirt. Her double-horned headdress was red, embroidered with gold wire, and strung with hundreds of tiny pearls. A long transparent silk veil hung down her back.