The Dark Lady

by Dawn Chandler

  He barked out a laugh, causing the horse to jerk his head up.

  Vanessa spun her head around at him. “What is so funny?”

  Her voice cracked. Peter realized it had several times before. “I was thinking of a stallion and a herd,” he said with a soft smile, his suspicion growing as he thought of her voice. Something wasn’t right but he couldn’t decide what.

  He ran his gaze over her, his brow furrowed in concentration. Her eyes widened and she glanced away, either unable or unwilling to meet his eyes.

  He took a quick breath, holding it as he forced himself to concentrate on her, going over each of her actions since she had arrived.

  He released his captured breath in a sharp exhale as the answer flashed before him.

  It was her voice. It was all wrong. He thought of a lie told by a small child. Sometimes you couldn’t tell how you knew they were lying, but you knew they were. A look? A gesture?

  She shifted uncomfortably as he appraised her closely.

  A small crack in their voice, he thought, a sly smile sliding across their lips.

  What she was hiding? And why? He didn’t know but he was going to find out. He glanced over at the young day maid, who still cringed in the seat of the carriage, and wondered why she was trying so hard to keep her mistress controlled.

  He looked back at Vanessa. He needed to be sure of the voice, not just a suspicion. He needed to hear it again and the best way to do that would be to keep her off balance.

  He grinned inwardly but forced himself to keep a calm face, to betray nothing of his plans to antagonize her. “I think it incredulous that a creature as large as he ran to a small wisp of a woman for protection.”

  Her shoulders pressed back, her chin rose in arrogance, and a gleam sparkled in her dark eyes as anger blossomed across her every feature. Peter smiled, pleased that his plan had worked so well.

  Vanessa stepped unsteadily toward him, her fist clenched and her mouth parting.

  “Milady.” Amy slowly climbed from the carriage interrupting Vanessa before she could speak. “Milady, you need to calm.”

  Peter scowled at the young woman. He was sure Vanessa would have spoken outrageously and was disappointed that she had been censored once again.

  Van visibly relaxed and turned her back on him. “My lord, I am not exactly a wisp of a woman. You have seen me, have you not?” Without looking back at him she began removing the ropes from the horse.

  “Aye, my dear, I have seen you and have indeed just felt you against me.” He glared at Amy as he finished speaking, in hopes to censor her, but her eyes were only on her mistress.

  Vanessa gasped, clenching her fists. Amy grabbed her arm and Matthew pushed himself away from the carriage with a defined growl. Peter had forgotten the Earl of Thereamong, but apparently he had heard enough. By the time he reached them, he had on a wide smile that twitched tightly at the edges, proclaiming it to be an effort for him to hold it.

  “Peter, my boy, take me to the stables and let me see those prize mares you recently picked up.”

  Peter turned his attention fully to him with a sigh of resignation.

  He would have to get her alone before he would be able to discover any of her secrets so he did his best to push it from his mind. “Yes, I have gotten three new breeders for my stables, with...” He turned back to Vanessa who stood motionless beside him. He could almost see the fumes shimmering around her as she struggled with her anger. “What is his name?”

  She opened her mouth and snapped it shut again. She closed her eyes momentarily and took a deep breath. Peter raised his brow at her. “Well?”

  “Beast,” she said, but he had a feeling that was not what she had planned to say. He didn’t know why she would lie about the horse’s name, but he would find that out as well. All in good time, he thought with an internal grin.

  “Appropriate at least.” He focused once again on her father. The resemblance between the two was stunning. “With the addition of Beast,” he emphasized deeply as he glanced at her. “I will soon have the best breeding stock in all of Yorkshire.” Peter took several deep breaths and the tightness eased from his chest as he forced himself to relax.

  Matthew grasped Beast’s reins and gave them a soft tug. Vanessa’s fist was clenched around them so tightly that her knuckles were white. Peter was sure the leather must be biting into her skin.

  Matthew arched one dark eyebrow and waited. Her small maid tugged gently on her sleeve. Vanessa scowled, but allowed her father to pull the reins from her grasp.

  Peter was surprised she had given in without a fight, but was grateful for the assistance when Matthew ran his hand through Vanessa’s arm and positioned her in between himself and Matthew.

  “Come, my dear, you can look at the pretty mares he purchased. You would like that wouldn’t you?” He handed the reins to Peter and not waiting for an answer turned and began walking to the stables.

  Peter looked from Matthew to the large horse and realized what he had done. Matthew had given Peter the reins, but had placed Vanessa in front of the horse. Peter might hold the reins, but he was sure, as Beast nudged her gently on the back, that the horse was unaware of anything but his mistress before him.

  If the horse bolted or reared up now, Vanessa would be right in his path. Peter’s stomach lurched, but he knew it was pointless to continue the same fight. Once the horse was safely in the stables, the situation would be easier for him to control.

  He adjusted the reins so that he could offer his arm to his new bride. Vanessa glanced at it and with a soft push from her day maid accepted it. Pleased that Vanessa had not declared war over this little act, he allowed himself some hope for a calmer future.

  Peter looked back at the day maid. She was throwing quick glances between Vanessa and Beast. Peter wondered which of the two she was more nervous about.

  Irritation sprouted once more within him as he thought about how the mere child seemed to control his new bride with a few simple words while he struggled to even keep her civil. It gnawed at him and he could not seem to let it go.

  It had become a challenge to see who she really was beneath the voice that cracked at odd times and the flaring temper that her maid was able to tame with a few words. He had no doubts that what she was showing him was not who she truly was.

  He saw glimpses of her in her anger, the sparkle of calculation in her eyes, the deep pitch of her voice when she was uncontrolled, and he wanted to see more. It excited him, stirring feelings of life that he had thought dead long ago.

  When he was a young boy he used to throw pebbles at the wild boars that roamed the forests until they would chase him. He had many close calls, several leading to jagged scars, and he had never felt anything like the exhilaration of the chase.

  That rush was what he felt now. He looked closely at his bride and wanted nothing more than to throw another stone at her. He only hoped that in this chase he would escape scar free.

  Recalling the quick flare of anger that had glittered in her eyes at the mention of incompetent horsewomen, he knew the best stone to use to antagonize her. “Aye, darling, you should like to look at the mares.”

  He carefully felt the weight of the stone in his hand, decided it was a good one, and threw. “I am sure we shall find a nice tame one, one to look good under a sidesaddle. One more fitted to your riding abilities...as a woman.” Her head whipped around and she pierced him with an angry gaze. He smiled his sweetest, most innocent smile.

  She had not even opened her mouth when the young girl loudly cleared her throat. Vanessa groaned and Peter cursed under his breath at her interruption.

  Matthew turned to her, a look of mischief crossing his face. “My dear, you should see the doctor about that.” His lips twitched with amusement as he spoke. “Winter is coming, and lung problems are much more prevalent in the cold.”

  Peter knew, without a doubt, that Matthew had not missed the byplay between the two women. A blind man would not have missed it, Peter thou
ght with a grin of his own.

  Vanessa’s anger faded from her face and she laughed at his words. It was a sweet tinkling laugh, but she stopped it quickly, biting her lip and looking away.

  Peter was disappointed that she had gotten such quick control of it. It had sounded real and welcoming. Warmth spread through him and his heart longed to hear it again.

  A fleeting image sparked within his mind at the sound of that laugh. It slipped quickly through the fogs of memory like a ghost through the night, disappeared through his fingers before he could see it clearly, and was gone. He looked at her closely and considered what it would take to get her to lose control of that laugh once again. If he could hear it once more, he might be able to catch the memory that his mind had alluded to.

  He wondered briefly if it would be harder to get her to lose control of her temper or of that laugh. The laugh, of that he was sure. He would work on the temper first. Once he had discovered her secrets, he would work on the laughter and the memory.

  They quickly reached the stables. Beast became irritated again as he was lead into a stall. “Easy, Beast.” Peter spoke softly to him, as the monster pranced erratically. He rubbed him down personally, instead of leaving it to a groom, wanting to establish a bond with the magnificent creature.

  “He is a beautiful horse.” Matthew’s voice was tinged with admiration.

  Peter and Vanessa both agreed in unison.

  Speaking quietly to Beast, he did a quick rub down on the unstable horse. Peter smirked cockily when the new arrival to his stable grew calm. That satisfaction lasted until he looked up to see the new arrival to his life leaning against the wooden gate, gently rubbing the horse’s damp face.

  Peter shook his head and his smile fell away. He decided to let it go for the time being. When the horse was rubbed down, fed, and comfortable, the four people roamed through the stable and looked at all the horses, including the mares Peter had just purchased.

  Peter led Vanessa to an older, sway backed mare, long past her prime. “Rain will be perfect for you.” He glanced at her.

  She was staring at the mare incredulously. He patted the sloped neck of the old mare. Rain once was a spirited horse, but now she was happy to plod along. Raising a ruckus would be much too much effort. She was a mare that he felt comfortable allowing Vanessa to ride on her own.

  Van looked at him and was sure he was baiting her once again. Anger spread through her like a wildfire. Her breath was so expanded in her puffed out chest that her breasts strained against the buttons of her riding habit.

  She took a deep breath. Why was she letting this man get to her? She knew why. She was out of her element. She was standing before the world, vulnerable and unprotected by her armor and sword. She could feel every breeze beneath a kirtle that she had never before worn and feel the pain of every rock beneath her small slippers.

  She wanted her tights, she wanted her boots, and what she wanted most was her sword so she could run it through the infuriating man in front of her.

  Matthew stepped forward taking hold of Amy’s arm. “Come, my dear, let us go to the manor. The newlyweds need a chance to be alone, to get to know each other before the celebration tonight.”

  Amy’s gaze darted from Van to Peter in a panic. Nervous energy tingled through Van at the knowledge she would be alone with her husband. Her first thought was of how she would enjoy being unrestrained by her maid, but that joyful thought was quickly squelched as she reminded herself she still had to keep up the pretense of a woman.

  Amy tried to argue, but Matthew pulled her away. Van felt a twinge of pity for the girl and wondered if Amy would have still agreed to do this job if she had known how stubborn Van was. She stood contemplating Amy’s plight for only a moment before she was pulled from her thoughts by Peter’s deep voice. It slid across her like a cool length of silk and a small shiver of pleasure ran up her spine.

  She turned and met his gaze, the soft blue of his eyes twinkled in amusement and his lips were turned up in an amused grin. Her breath quickened and her heart pounded somewhere in the vicinity of her throat.

  “What?” She could hear the weakness tinged in her voice and it frightened her. Weakness was not something she could allow. She silently cursed herself.

  “In all the commotion I was never introduced to your maid.” He closed the gap between them, his wide chest now so close that the warmth of his body enveloped her.

  “Amy Devant.” Her voice was a mere whisper. She fought an urge to step away from him. His breath caressed her face and she shivered. A hot flush swam through her blood, boiling it until she feared she would melt right there at his feet. She barely managed to surpass a shudder and prayed he could not see the heat that tinged her face beneath the powder.

  Struggling to take command of the chaos that had invaded her traitorous body, she took a deep, calming breath. But it only heightened her arousal as his light male musk invaded her already reeling senses.

  Her mind raced back to her childhood. She remembered standing in the shadows watching him from a distance and wondering what it would have been like to be as close to him as she was now. Anticipation shivered across her spine. She longed to reach out and touch his cheek, but trepidation stopped her.

  “Aye, I know her name. I just was not introduced. You do know that if you want to bring someone into my home, you should at least ask me first,” he said softly, his voice remonstrative, as if scolding a bad child.

  His words were like a wave of cold water, dosing the flames of desire that had threatened to consume her. She wanted to be angry at his words, but she was only grateful that her thoughts were now once again under her command.

  She had not even considered asking his permission to bring her maid. She was unaccustomed to having her actions questioned, but she knew he was correct. As her husband, it was his right to govern who and what came into his home. Her mind spun painfully. She worried that she would not be able to become a woman of any worth after being a knight for so long.

  The corner of his lip twitched and he stepped a little closer. “I am after all the master of this house.”

  Irritation churned, no man was her master. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into the palms of her hand.

  He looked at her expectantly.

  She wanted to tell him who he was dealing with, that she was her own master, the master of others, and that no one was her master. Anger cut her deep. She bit the inside of her lip against the rebuke that jumped dangerously at the back of her throat.

  When she made no remark, he shrugged almost imperceptibly. “We have plenty of time before our wedding celebration, would you like a tour of the grounds?” His tone was soothing and sweet, but the wicked twinkle in his blue eyes spoke differently.

  Suspicious of the sudden change, she wanted to refuse. Knowing she could not, she nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good.” His lips spread into a lopsided grin, giving her the impression of a hungry wolf patiently on the prowl. Gooseflesh tickled her skin.

  He pushed past her. Her heart skipped a beat as his shoulder grazed against hers. She turned and watched him grab a sidesaddle and walk toward the swaybacked mare.

  The mare swung her head lazily toward them as they approached. She was well past her prime and Van had a sharp vision of breaking the poor creature in half. “You cannot be serious?” Her breath hitched. “I cannot ride that horse. Do you see the size of me? I will hurt her.”

  “I have ridden her. You will be fine.” He opened the stall, and Rain did not hesitate. She came walking slowly out of the stall without encouragement. He turned to gaze at Van, his smile falling away from his lips, but not his eyes. “You are not afraid of her, are you?”

  “For her, not of her,” she said impatiently. “I would be more comfortable riding my own horse.” She tried to keep her tone civil, tried to keep at least a modicum of subservience to her voice. Her pride pricked at her, but she ignored it.

  He smiled at her patiently and turned away. He saddle
d the poor mare and bridled her as if Van had said nothing.

  She was beginning to realize that the only way she was going to get out of riding in that damnable saddle was to put up more of a fight than she was willing to do. Out of viable options, she resigned herself to giving in to his wishes. She straightened her shoulders and sighed. Nervous energy surged like waves, crashing into her until she felt as if she would drown.

  She stared malevolently at the wide expanse of his back. His muscles rolled beneath the light woolen tunic as he pulled the girth up tight across the patient mare’s belly.

  “I know,” he said, his voice chipper. “You are afraid of making a fool of yourself in front of me, but do not worry, I am your husband.” He looked over his shoulder at her, a smug smile on his lips and a superior, haughty twinkle in his eyes. “I will not think any less of you.”

  Anger pushed at her, but she refused to give in to it. “There is no way you can think less of me.” The bitterness she felt at his treatment of her tinged her words.

  His smile faltered. His eyes scrutinized her for a long moment before he turned back to his task.

  Van was shocked when she realized that indeed she was scared to make a fool of herself in front of him. She cared for him and respected him. As a knight and as one of his men at arms, she was confident and sure of herself, but as his bride she was in unknown territory. She felt as if she had lost her bearings under a cloud covered sky and had no idea where she was or how to get back to familiar surroundings.

  CHAPTER 7

  Peter watched as the anger slid from Vanessa’s features leaving behind a nervous reluctance. He smiled. He was once more in control of himself and ready to gain control of Vanessa as well.

  “Come. Let us get you onto your magnificent creature.” He gestured to Rain and to his surprise Vanessa came forward without argument. Her teeth worried her lower lip. She looked nervous, unsure, yet determined.