She was beautiful. That he was sure the men would see. A soft wisp of concern slithered through him, wrapping around his heart and giving it a quick squeeze. He pushed it away in surprise. He had not felt jealousy in a long time.
Her gaze darted once more over his shoulder and this time remained. He turned back to see Richard staring intently at her. The jealousy he was denying swelled within him so quickly that he had to bite his tongue to keep it from erupting from him like a volcano. He took a shaky breath and motioned jerkily for the men to depart.
Richard opened his mouth as if he might speak, shook his head instead, and led the men off. Peter watched him go and told himself that Richard may just be feeling the same familiar tugging that he himself felt when he looked at her. His eyes narrowed, hoping that was all that Richard was feeling. But the long looks between Richard and Vanessa worried him. He sighed, telling himself that he was being ridiculous.
He took a shaky breath and made sure the smile was still full on his face before he turned to face his bride. Peter was surprised to find her staring at him, her lips slightly parted and her brows arched. Sure that she was scared by the men, he pointed off to the larger group who were about to disappear over a ridgeline.
“Those men will not hurt you,” he started in the voice he reserved for small children and women. It was a voice he hoped would calm her fears, but her mouth dropped open more prominently. Fearing that she had not understood, he lowered his voice and smiled sweetly. “You see, over that ridge?” He pointed once again. “That is where I train my men. They are my warriors...”
Vanessa’s mouth snapped shut so hard he heard her teeth clank together. “I am not two, and I would appreciate if you would not talk to me as such.” Her high pitched squeal was full of indignation and her eyes flashed with anger.
He felt his own jaw drop slightly as shock exploded through him at her blatant disrespect. So much for shy and docile, he thought as she continued her tirade. A pleasant sounding wife would have been a plus he thought irritably.
“I realize fully that those men are warriors and I know what it takes to—”
Behind the angry temptress Peter heard a loud clearing of a throat. He looked around her at a pretty girl, who jerked roughly at the puffy sleeve of his new bride’s black dress. The girl, obviously the day maid, who if he had been informed correctly would be Amy Devant, desperately hissed, “Milady. Please, milady, stop.”
He was surprised first by the gall of the girl and then by the change it brought to Vanessa. Her jaw tightened and she took a deep breath, held it a moment before releasing it through clenched teeth.
She raised her chin and stared directly at him, at eye level. It was disconcerting to look straight at a woman. He watched her closely as a quiet calm took over her features. He knew it was not a true calm as he could see the anger that sparked deep within those beautiful, mysterious eyes.
He had to look hard to see any emotion and had a feeling that it would take time to learn how to read her fully. He felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips as he realized he was looking forward to learning more about her.
“If you are not too scared, perhaps I may take you to see the men train. We do not have to get too close,” he said casually, testing her character and seeing where her limits lie. He expected the same reaction that he always got when he spoke to women, a scared and frightened look.
“Aye, my lord, I would like to see the way you train your men.”
Vanessa’s voice grated at his nerves, but it held no fear. She had looked terrified and on the verge of tears, looking at the men only moments earlier. Now there was not a trace of reluctance to be close to them. He wondered what had changed her attitude.
The familiar looks that had passed between Vanessa and Richard swamped his mind. His suspicions leapt to a thundering peak and then crashed down upon him like a landslide. Anger exploded and he fought to get a hold of it.
A smug grin twitched on Vanessa’s lips, and he realized in irritation that the thick powder hid much of her emotions.
“You wear too much powder. I do not like it. You will wear none from now on.” He stepped forward running a finger along her jaw, taking a strip of powder off.
She gasped and jerked her head away from him, recoiling with a look of horror as if he had taken a blade to her instead of his finger. She opened her mouth and just as she stepped toward him with clenched fists a violent ruckus erupted behind him, drawing his attention away from her. A huge black destrier reared up yanking the small carriage off the ground and giving a loud scream of frustration.
Peter smiled widely as he watched the horse’s long mane flowing in the slight breeze. He took in the well-defined muscles, marvelous conformation, and shining coat as the aggravated animal pawed at the ground.
“Tell me please, my dear friend, that you have brought that magnificent creature for my stables.” He spoke to Matthew without taking his eyes from the horse. “Tell me he is for sale.” He looked eagerly at the man who had been his father’s friend for many years.
The fifth earl of Thereamong laughed. “Aye, I have brought him for your stables, but nay, he is not for sale.”
“He is like a gift?” Confused, he glanced from Matthew to the horse and then back again. “Maybe for the wedding?”
“Nay, not a gift. He is my daughter’s steed.”
Peter gasped and Matthew’s smile disappeared. Peter whipped around to face his new bride who only grinned at him.
He could clearly imagine Vanessa struggling to control the unstable looking stallion. His stomach knotted and his breath hitched. Women had no business riding and definitely not on a horse such as this wide eyed creature.
Fear clenched his muscles, and for a moment all he could do was shake his head. His mind raced with images of her lying sprawled somewhere broken and battered after being thrown.
He took a deep breath and forced the words out through gritted teeth. “Nay, no woman of mine will ride a horse like that.”
Vanessa’s grin widened, but he could see the anger blazing in her eyes. “Just because you have become my husband does not give you the right to tell me I am not allowed to ride my own horse.” She spoke calmly, the smile never leaving her lips. She held herself with a pride that wrapped his stomach with tendrils of fear, fear for her safety and his sanity.
It had been many years since his demands had been challenged. Anger rolled through him. “Does not give me the right?” His voice cracked painfully as he nearly shouted at her. “You are mine and that gives me the right.”
She took a jerky step toward him. “I am not yours, I am mine. I can and will ride my horse.” Her voice had taken on an edge betraying her anger.
Her day maid rushed to her side, drawing his attention. She pulled heavily on Vanessa’s sleeve with a desperate look in her eyes, but Vanessa did not even glance at her. The small maid tugged at her sleeve. Peter had a clear image of her tearing it completely off. “Milady, please,” she pleaded.
Vanessa ignored her.
“I have never seen a capable rider who was a woman.” He had known women who had been killed by horses. He knew his anger sprouted from fear and he fought to gain at least a semblance of calm. “It is dangerous.”
“I am more capable than you are at riding and being a woman does not limit me in what I can do.” Vanessa’s eyes widened and she snapped her lips shut. Amy gasped loudly.
Disbelief swarmed him, she could not possibly believe what she said was true. “That is not possible, my dear. There are few men better than I.” He held her stare without wavering.
Amy tugged at her sleeve, and Peter swore he heard the seam begin to let go. “Not now, Milady. Everyone is watching you.” Amy spoke in a bare whisper.
Vanessa straightened her spine and smiled a wicked grin at the young girl who stood nearly a foot shorter than her. Vanessa’s voice was low and menacing. “All right, I’ve got it.”
Amy flinched away from the soft, deadly voice.
Vanessa swung her attention back to him. Peter held her glare with a challenge of his own and sighed in relief as she remained silent. He had hoped for a shy and quiet wife and it seemed he had received a hellion instead.
He turned his back on her and hoped she would remain quiet. He glanced at the stables and saw his stable master looking off into the distance, but casting quick furtive glances toward him. He knew he was watching the fight between Peter and his new bride, but he was trying not to be direct about it. Peter groaned under his breath.
“Ponsworth, get that horse to the stables.”
Corey Ponsworth came forward, holding a short riding crop.
“I would not do that, if I were you.” Vanessa spoke haughtily and wrinkled her nose at Peter when he turned to her.
His barely held temper frayed almost to the breaking point. “How dare you tell me what I would do or would not do? You will remember you are now my wife, and you will learn your place.”
Vanessa shrugged and the smirk, that he was quickly coming to dislike, spread across her soft looking lips. He might not like the grin, but he liked the twinkle it brought to her eyes.
No, no, he told himself, as he shook his head to focus his thoughts. He did not like that twinkle. All it meant was trouble. He didn’t like it at all, especially the warmth it created low in his stomach. Peter growled and clenched his fists tightly, as he tried unsuccessfully to convince himself that was true.
“The stallion is a handful, Peter,” Matthew said and the horse screamed in anger as if in response to his quiet warning.
Peter whipped his head around to gaze at the volatile animal. Ponsworth grasped the lead rope. The horse reared and bucked, pawing at the air. The groomsman, large in stature but still dwarfed by the horse’s sheer size, was nearly lifted off his feet.
The massive horse lurched toward them. Matthew leapt out of the way and Amy threw herself into the carriage with a scream.
Peter glanced at his bride. Fear constricted his throat to see her stand calmly as if nothing were amiss. He looked back to Ponsworth, who fought with the lead rope to force the enraged stallion into the stable, but he was only dragged around like an insolent child.
Ponsworth yelled hoarsely at his stable lads to get more ropes. They raced to do his bidding. Once the horse was securely tied, with three ropes looped around his heavily muscled neck, the four men began the tug of war to get him to the stall.
The horse suddenly charged and threw his full weight against the ropes. He tossed his head wildly as he pulled free. Sweat lathered and wild eyed the horse galloped full tilt toward Vanessa who, to Peter’s ire, was perfectly calm.
Peter’s heart slammed into his throat. He knew she was going to be killed and fear fell over him like a shroud. He threw himself in between her and the charging beast.
Vanessa quickly side stepped him, throwing off his restraining arm and putting herself between him and the panicked horse. He grabbed her arm, but didn’t have time to move her aside before the horse skidded to a stop, slamming its muscled chest into her.
He heard Matthew scream out Vanessa’s name as the impact threw her backward. She collided with Peter, the breath whooshing out of her in a sudden gasp. He staggered backward and wrapped his arms around her to keep her from falling.
She took several shallow shaky breaths before her breathing finally calmed. Relief washed over him as he realized that she was not seriously injured.
The terrified horse continued to push his head into Vanessa’s chest forcing her body tightly against the length of him. He pulled her tighter into his embrace and was unprepared for the feeling of her bottom pressing against his groin. Every woman he had been with had been small and petite. When he had held them closely their hips had caressed against his mid to lower thighs.
He had never held a woman who fit him so fully, so completely. As he began to harden beneath her soft curves, he decided it was a feeling he quite enjoyed.
He watched intently as Vanessa soothed the trembling horse. She spoke quietly under her breath and caressed him. Her long fingers trailed slowly up and down his wide jaw. Peter was entranced by her soft movements. He could almost feel her fingers running across his own jaw line and tracing down his neck to his chest.
Lust exploded into a hot white fire within him. He felt drunk on the soft waves of aroma that caressed his senses. He turned his head, inhaling the deep scent of lavender. Her smooth hair felt like silk as it brushed against his hands, and his fingers involuntarily tightened against her firm stomach as the silky strands tickled across them. A shiver raced down his spine and through his limbs, making them tremble.
His gaze followed the line of her silky black hair to her long straight neck. Its tanned skin showed clearly beneath the sharp line of powder that hid her face. He took a long deep breath and the mix of lavender and face powder overwhelmed his senses. His eyes drifted shut. His mind was encompassed solely by the sweet smell of her body and the way it moved gently against him.
He pressed his lips onto her long bare neck, opening them to lightly bite her warm flesh. Vanessa stiffened even as she pressed herself more fully into him.
Her body trembled and he wondered if it was from fear or excitement. Images of how she would fit beneath him raced through his mind. Would she fit as perfectly beneath him as she did standing here before him? Would he have to bend to take her lips with his?
Those thoughts led rapidly to others as he wondered if she would be as aggressive and strong willed in bed as she was out of bed. He was intrigued by this idea. He had never been with a woman who was anything but compliant, and he wondered what it would be like to have a forceful woman in bed.
He took a deep breath as the muscles of her back shifted against his chest. A sharp flash of heat exploded in his groin and shot hot sparks through limbs that shuddered as if a cold wave had suddenly washed across the land.
A thick groan penetrated his senses and the realization that it was his own threw him back to reality. He shook his head to clear the heady fog that invaded his senses. But the powerful tendrils of lust weaved deeply and refused to let loose their greedy hold on him. He didn’t understand what was so different about this woman. He opened his eyes and stared at her.
Her profile was beautiful, her hair gleaming in the sunlight. Her eyes drifted closed and a small smile played at her lips. An insistent heat settled low in his stomach, a pleasant tingling that seemed to warm his whole body. He wondered once again why this woman, who he had known for mere moments, captivated him in ways that the women who had spent years in his life did not.
He had not groaned with a woman since he was a randy boy feeling up one of his father’s youngest maids. He didn’t make sounds when kissing a woman’s neck, hardly made them even when at the peak of his pleasure.
He never lost control and he wasn’t about to start now, not with this giant of a woman. Fighting a painful, throbbing lust that argued vehemently with his oath of self-control, he pulled quickly away from her.
Vanessa gasped, stumbled backwards, and threw her arms around the ears of the now calm horse to balance herself. The horse threw his head up and snorted. She instantly began to caress him. He calmed quickly. Peter wished that his own worries could be calmed so easily.
He pulled his wits together long enough to remember that they were not alone and glanced quickly around the courtyard. The servants were doing their best not to watch the goings on with their master and their new mistress. They busied themselves with luggage, but he caught the secretive glances they threw his way.
Matthew stood silently by the carriage, his brow wrinkled in what Peter knew well to be his concerned look. Matthew shook his head and Peter smiled, but the smile felt awkward so he let it drop. Matthew smiled in return. It looked as forced as Peter’s had felt. Matthew returned his attention to his daughter. His fingers were laced so tightly together before him that the knuckles were white.
It was expected that no one would interfere with the way Peter handled his wife.
She was his property to do with as he wished, but he wondered how hard it was for Matthew to just stand aside and say nothing regarding his daughter.
With a sigh, he followed Matthew’s gaze and studied Vanessa closely. He had only seen two women who were almost as tall as him. Both had been about as big around as a sapling willow.
This woman was not. She was decidedly bigger than a mere sapling and decidedly more muscular than any other woman he had known. She looked as if she could take on half of his army without breaking a sweat.
Peter’s gaze slid down her body and stopped on the round bottom that was pushing against the soft material of her dress. Lust threatened to bubble forth and he jerked his gaze away quickly, focusing instead on the way she handled the horse. She handled him well, but he had been unpredictable from the moment Peter had noticed him. He seemed to have a wide range of emotions. Peter didn’t trust him in the least.
Vanessa looked over her shoulder at him and smirked. She looked very smug about being able to handle the horse. His stomach wrenched in concern. She moved to the horse’s shoulder, patting his heavily muscled chest as she went.
She had an air of invulnerability that worried him and it was more than just the horse. She was not afraid of going to see his men train and she had no qualms about telling him what to do. She had not even batted a pretty eyelash in the face of his anger. That stunned him. He had never had anyone stand toe to toe with him and not back down.
She did not seem to hold an ounce of fear and that alone terrified him. He could see her being hurt by her over-confidence. He would have to make sure she was safe. He watched Vanessa turn calmly back to the horse like nothing was amiss.
He had to exert control in order to protect her. He was the husband. He was the master. He was the stallion of his herd.
Peter appraised the scene before him. The large stallion stood calmly before his wife, his head hung low, allowing her to stroke him as she wished. He was meek and controllable beneath her ministrations, and Peter realized that the stallion was not always the master.
The Dark Lady Page 10