"But, my dear, I couldn't possibly use a night house to settle the question," he said suddenly, something oddly like inspiration causing the outburst. "I find no interest in those women under any circumstances, so how might failure with them have meaning? My sole interest is in you, and as you are to be my wife, how might the matter be settled with another?"
He stared at me with the triumph of logic crowning him, but all I could do was stare back with the most terrible feeling creeping over me. He couldn't be suggesting what it sounded like, he just couldn't, not when I'd been so close to talking him into forgetting the marriage entirely!
"If you're trying to say you want to try it with me, you can forget it," I told him flatly, discovering that I was almost back to the point of clutching the blanket to me. "The decision about who I share a bed with has always been mine, and 1 intend seeing that it always will be. If you're asking to have your name put on the list, the answer is: not even at the bottom."
"Well, I certainly wouldn't dream of trying to coerce you," he answered, the triumph now muted by an agreeable-ness I didn't care for, his light eyes casually hooded. "If you insist on waiting for our wedding night, I would hardly be so boorish as to deny you that. That is the time consummation will be most necessary and binding, and even if I should discover a great dislike for the act, my duty in that respect will already have been done. It will, of course, be far too late to consider your feelings or what so passionless a marriage would be for you ..."
"The consummation!" I said as I sat straighter, suddenly remembering something important. "If I insist to everyone that you weren't capable of consummating the marriage, they'll have to have it annulled! Now, why didn't I think of that sooner?"
"Possibly, my lady, and I hope you will forgive the indeli-
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cacy, because you have no means of proving such a charge," he murmured, this time rubbing at his face with two fingers. "A sheltered maiden, previously uninvolved with the world, would certainly not find it the same, but a Blade of a Sword Company— Or, forgive me, have I assumed a condition which simply isn't so?"
He waited politely for the answer to his question, his brows raised just a little, knowing damned well 1 had no other answer. You might be able to find virgins in a Sword Company, but it wouldn't be wise putting gold or silver or even copper on the possibility.
"And so, you see, our wedding night is certain to be a resounding success no matter what occurs," he said, and I swear it was nearly a purr. "If I were to discover a great dislike beforehand it would be possible for me to act honorably, but afterward—"
He spread his hands with very heavy, very innocent regret, his resignation about as believable as the sigh following his shrug. He had his mind set on trying what the big boys did, and whatever his real reason was, he didn't seem ready to back down. I didn't believe for a moment that it was a question of honor, and he had managed to get me good and mad.
"Well, then, my only other option is to see to it that there is no wedding night," I said, lying back to get comfortable in the blankets. "I flatly refuse to marry you, and nothing, including the Law, can force me to it."
"In a manner of speaking, that's true," he said, for an instant looking frustrated and annoyed before he forced those emotions away again. "It upsets me to believe that a man's daughter would betray him so, leaving him prey to those who would see him brought down, but apparently it's so. Perhaps I'm fortunate in that I will likely never have such a daughter of my own."
"I'm not betraying my father!" I protested, rising to one elbow while he rose to his feet. "I never agreed to this or any other marriage, and he had no right to assume I would agree! He never asked me!"
If I expected a response to my contention, 1 didn't get one. Without a word he circled my blankets, picked up the warming stick and bones I'd left, then headed back toward the fire.
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He could have said that most daughters don't need to be asked, that they simply do as they're told because they're female and have nothing better to do with their lives, but he didn't. That would have given me the chance to point out that I did have something better to do with my life, which would have brought us back to the point we'd just left.
1 lay back in the blankets again with unfinished arguments gnawing at me, the one with the Flower—and the one with my father. What bothered me most was wondering if Traixe was right and my father did intend ordering me to walk away from the marriage; if that turned out to be so, what was I going to do? Walking away under those circumstances would be betraying him, but staying would be a betrayal of myself. I still couldn't decide what I would do, but 1 could see 1 was passing up the possibility of avoiding that particular decision. It would be horribly distasteful, but I had to go through with it.
"All right, you win," I said, staring up at the cave ceiling. "Let's see how great a distaste we can find in you—assuming we can first find interest enough for a beginning. But don't expect me to enjoy any of it. I've never been partial to rape."
There was silence from his part of the cave for a moment, and then he was crouching beside my blankets.
"My lady, it was not my intention to bring you distress," he said softly and seriously, and oddly enough 1 almost believed him. "I have no wish to force myself on you, merely do I seek to still the doubts within me. I would make a poor husband indeed if I gave no thought to the woman who will be my wife, and you must not become upset over this doing. My betrothal rights allow it to me, and therefore also to you."
"I'd like to see how far you'd get if those rights didn't extend to me," I retorted, still really annoyed as I looked up at his hulking form. "And if you were all that concerned about me, you'd walk away from this marriage without the experimentation, which, I'm sure you know as well as I do, is completely unnecessary."
"Hardly unnecessary," he said with a faint smile, and then had the nerve to reach down and take my hand in both of his. "A man who is named heir to a Duke must have heirs of his own, and there continues to be but a single way of achieving
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that. Surely it will be to the benefit of us both to know that such achievement will be possible—and, hopefully, extremely pleasant."
He actually grinned before kissing my hand, then straightened as I snatched it back to rub it vigorously on the blanket. When I looked up again he was on his way back to the fire, totally unconcerned with how I'd reacted to his supposedly gallant gesture. He was so absolutely and completely strange, easily the strangest male I had ever met, and the way he kept assuming that our marriage was definitely going to be was beginning to really disturb me. I didn't want to marry anyone, most especially not him, but his attitude was beginning to make me feel I'd have no more choice in the matter than a chain child. I didn't enjoy feeling like that, and as I moved around in annoyance in the blankets, decided I'd have to do something about it.
I watched him putter about a bit around the fire that was beginning to die down again, but instead of adding more of the wood he'd brought in, he left it to go to a large stock of mossy vines piled near the cave wall on the other side of the floor. It didn't take long before a generous amount of the vines had been brought to the right of my blankets, and then he was arranging his own blankets on top of the vines, just as he had obviously done with mine to make them so comfortable. I didn't like how close he was putting his bed to mine, literally arranging things to make one large bed, but considering what he intended trying I couldn't very well argue the point.
When the bed-making was completed to his satisfaction and he had taken off his fancy swordbelt, he turned to the stable lamp that was giving off more light than the remains of the fire, and blew it out. That plunged us into almost pitch darkness, the remains of the fire making him no more than an ill-defined, looming shadow.
"Why did you do that?" I asked, this time watching what I could see of him groping his way back
to his blankets. "Without the lamp and the fire, we might as well be wearing blindfolds."
"I'm afraid I must admit that the darkness is for me," he said, sounding somewhat apologetic but already beginning to take his clothes off, starting with his boots. "Now that the
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time has come to learn the truth, my hesitancy seems to have increased. I hope such apprehensions are normal."
"You can hardly expect me to know that from first-hand experience," I said, rolling to my right and bracing up on my elbow and hand. "All I can tell you is that most of the men I've had sex with seemed completely confident and unwor-ried. The ones who weren't didn't make much of a showing."
He made a noncommittal sound in response lo my not-so-subtle jabbing, but still continued on with shucking his clothes. If nothing else he certainly was determined, and under other circumstances I might have complimented him on how difficult he was to discourage. Under those circumstances, though, I would be doing everything but complimenting him, if you considered doing nothing as part of doing everything. Most men, I'd been told, consider an unresponsive partner almost as bad as being thrown into an ice-cold river. I'd never before had occasion to test the contention, but that seemed like an excellent opportunity for it.
The dark form beside me was finally out of its clothes, and then it turned in my direction.
"We may now begin," he announced, just as though he were discussing a meal or a race—or maybe even a fight. "I'm not totally without knowledge of what's necessary, as Strangis and Frask, the fighters who accompanied me on the journey here, felt it necessary to inform me of certain of the basics. The first thing I'm to do is take you in my arms."
"Well, well, love-making through instruction," I drawled with as much amusement as I could manage, purposely staying right where I was. "And to make it even better, instruction from fighters. Have you ever heard what Blades say about fighters?"
"I'm fairly sure we shouldn't be in the midst of a discussion right now," he said, his voice the least bit strained as a wide shadow-hand began reaching toward me. "Discussion is a distraction, and ..."
"As far as Blades are concerned, fighters do most of their practicing with each other," I went on, happily ignoring what he'd said. "Considering the fact that fighters, unlike Blades, are all male, that makes their advice somewhat questionable. Listening to an ordinary fighter is almost as bad as asking a King's Fighter."
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"Almost as bad?" he said, pausing with his dark bar of an arm poised over me. "Why would asking a King's Fighter be worse?"
"You didn't know about King's Fighters?" I asked with a snicker, hopefully demoralizing him even more by hinting that those who didn't know were distinctly inferior. "They need the King's permission to wipe their noses, because independent thinking is entirely beyond them. If one of them ever actually manages to find his way to a night house, even the slaves try to run. I've heard it said many times that you'll never find a King's Fighter with only one hand. One would get tired too quickly, and they didn't mean that in reference to weapons."
I couldn't help laughing at that, remembering how long ago I'd first heard it from a Blade of my Company, but suddenly my laughter was interrupted. The arm hovering over me was abruptly around me instead, and I found myself being pulled up against a large male body.
"That's quite amusing," the Flower said, and I could almost have sworn he was taking my remarks personally. "Isn't it fortunate, then, that I didn't consult a King's Fighter. Now that I have you in my arms, I'm to kiss you."
To be entirely accurate he only had me in one arm just then, but he took care of that by sliding the other under me before lowering his head. What he didn't take care of was the blanket between us, but I wasn't about to point that out to him. Even in that deep a darkness he had excellent aim, his lips coming down right on top of mine, but after a moment or two he raised his head again.
"Perhaps I'm mistaken, but shouldn't there be some response to the kiss from you?" he asked, his voice almost more annoyed than questioning. "I'm certain I was told something about a response."
"You mean you were told to expect a response during rape?" I asked in turn, trying to keep the satisfaction out of my voice. "I suppose that's logical since the advice came from fighters; they usually can't get a woman any other way. But I thought you said this was your experiment? And I thought you also understood I have no interest in it?"
"From what I was told you must have an interest in it, or I might as well end my efforts now," he returned, the annoy-
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ance somehow hardening his voice. "Is that what you want? To put all effort aside until our wedding night?"
"None of this was my idea, you mistake of Evon," I growled, moving against the arms he still had around me. "If 1 can't get interested it's not my fault, it's yours. Or didn't your very capable teachers tell that to their little virgin? Unless you expect me to do the raping, raising my interest is your job. If you're not up to it, shame on you."
As a reason for my lack of response that wasn't half bad, and it kept him quiet for a moment as he thought about it. I had to make his failure no one's fault but his own, nothing that / contributed to, or else he'd never voice his refusal to the marriage once we got back. For that same moment of his silence I thought he had decided to give up, but apparently Evon's luck was shining elsewhere.
"It seems I owe you an apology, my lady," he said at last, his voice not only back to where it had been, but smooth as steel on top of that. "I was indeed told that eliciting a response from a female was mine to do, but the matter had slipped my mind. Perhaps we'd best begin with that."
He released me enough to let me lie back flat on the blankets, then his reaching hand found the one still covering me and threw it aside. Rather than having forgotten about that blanket it seemed as though he'd been waiting for the proper time to remember it, and for some reason that very simple, very familiar gesture made me gasp.
"Now, now, my lady," he scolded gently when I tried to go after my cover, pressing me just as gently back down again. "You don't want me thinking you're not trying, do you? You're clothed in darkness, so the cover isn't necessary. Now let me see, what was the first thing I was supposed to do? Oh, yes . . ."
This time his lips came to my body and throat, warm, soft lips that lingered only briefly before moving on. Losing my cover like that had upset me, as much as if someone had taken my mail just before battle, and now his kissing was making it worse. It wasn't as if I had any real need of the cover, or that I thought I might respond to him; it was just that I didn't like having all that done to me—when I didn't want it done—by someone like him—
"My dear lady, you really must relax those muscles," he
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murmured, kissing my face and ear before returning to my throat. "You surely can't be frightened of me?"
"Afraid of vow?" I scoffed, moving my face to keep him away from it. "If there's anything I'm afraid of, it's dying of boredom or old age. Or maybe both. Can't you hurry it up a little?"
"I've been told that hurrying never pays," he said in that same murmur, and then his hand began to stroke my left side. "If you're not afraid of me, prove it by kissing me."
"But I don't want to k—" I began, then lost the rest of the protest when his lips covered mine. I tried to turn my face away again but somehow the fingers of his left hand had become entangled in my hair, and I couldn't move my head. At the same time his right hand slid over my breast, feeling nothing like the soft, pudgy hand I could just remember from somewhere, even though I'd expected it to feel the same. By what was probably pure accident his fingers moved in that special way I'd only felt once or twice before, and suddenly I found that I was actually kissing him back! A Flower, and I was kissing him!
The thought made me frantic enough to begin struggling, but the heat flashing through
me was very distracting. I couldn't quite remember how long it had been since I'd last had a man, but it had obviously been much too long. My right hand pushed at the chest it rested on and my left went to the fingers on my breast, but neither effort did what I wanted it to. The lips on mine kept coaxing me for even more response, and the hand left my breast to slide down between my thighs- I moaned at what that touch did to me and tried to gasp, and then suddenly I could.
"My poor lady, has my clumsiness upset you?" he asked, the words so soft they felt like caresses instead. "You must bear with me, my sweet lady, for I attempt no more than what you asked of me. If you haven't the strength to accept it, you need only say so and I'll certainly stop."
"Me, not have the strength to stand anything you can do?" I panted, holding tight to his arm to keep from shivering. "That'll be the day. Just remember when none of this works out that /didn't do any thing to interfere with the experiment."
"I'll be sure to remember that," he said, sounding as though he wanted to chuckle. "And what
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particular technique? I'm told by Frask that most men find it extremely effective."
The only answer I could give him was another gasp, the moan only just letting itself be swallowed. I couldn't understand why I was reacting that way, as though I were being touched by a real man, but as upsetting as the thought of his being a Flower was, it wasn't enough to turn me disinterested again. In spite of everything I was nearly on fire, and I didn't realize that my hand was moving from his arm to his shoulder and back again, until he did chuckle.
"Yes, you definitely aren't doing anything to interfere with the experiment," he murmured, beginning to kiss me again. "Shall we see where we might go to from here?"
He couldn't have been expecting an answer in words, as he immediately saw to it that I couldn't give one. I kept trying to remember that I wasn't supposed to respond to him, and 1 actually did hold out longer than I thought was humanly possible. After that I discovered I was feeling rather than thinking, and what I was feeling couldn't be stood any longer. I clawed at his back with my nails until he'd entered me, and then it was nothing but sensation without end.
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