She stopped breathlessly in front of them and glowered down at Vanessa, who looked up at her with a deadly grin.
Tension dug its claws into Peter’s nerves and refused to release its painful grasp.
“There is no way you could entice him to take you. You are lying. You have no honor—”
Peter had no time to react as Vanessa lurched up from her seat and threw Rebeka off balance. She grasped Rebeka’s arms and yanked her slender frame up against her own. Vanessa spoke unsteadily through tightly clenched teeth. “You will listen to me, and you will listen real close.”
All the men were instantly on their feet, ready to come to their lady’s aid. Peter grasped Vanessa’s arm and tried to pull Rebeka from her steel grasp. She tightened her hold, refusing to let go.
Vanessa’s voice was a mere whisper. “There are a lot of things you can do to me. A lot you may call me. I will forgive you a great deal, for you are after all, just a woman, but even at that, you will never question my honor.”
The soft gravel in her voice was unlike any of the voices she had used throughout the day, yet Peter found it familiar.
Small white dents appeared in Rebeka’s arms as Vanessa dug her fingers deeply into the soft white flesh, lifting her completely from the ground. As Rebeka’s tears began to fall, Peter yanked at Vanessa’s arm.
“Vanessa, let her go, you are making a scene. We can deal with this when we are not in front of everyone.” He pulled at her arm until Rebeka squealed in pain. “Vanessa!”
Vanessa yanked her arms away. Rebeka fell to the floor with a scream. Vanessa turned her dark gaze on Peter once again. She sighed deeply and shook her head. He saw the pain that swirled in her black eyes, and it ached within him as if her pain had caressed him.
“This was a bad idea. I am never going to be able to do this. I cannot.” She turned and fled the room.
Peter glanced down as a small figure brushed past him. He shook his head and grasped Amy’s arm. “Nay, I will take care of this.”
“Pray, let me go to her.”
“Nay, I will speak to her.” Peter started to walk past her, but her small hand stayed him.
“You do not understand.” Amy pulled weakly against his arm. She looked up at him pleadingly with tear moistened eyes.
“Do not cry. You are right. I do not understand a lot about that woman, but I will be the one to see to her.” His gaze caught all the staring faces of the men and servants as he turned to follow Vanessa up the stairs.
Guilt pricked at him. He had wanted to avoid a scene, but things had ended up worse than he had imagined. “I should have just moved her,” he said quietly as he trudged up the stairs. “It would have been less of a scene in the long run.”
He reached his chambers only to find them empty, though he wasn’t surprised. He knew she wouldn’t run to his room. He made his way across the floor and tried the door between the rooms only to find it locked. He knocked. “Vanessa.” Nothing came from beyond the door.
Anger began to swell within him at being locked out. Pounding loudly on the heavy oak door he shouted. “Open this blasted door.”
No answer, but he could think of nowhere else she would have run. “Open it now. This is your last chance to let me in.” No answer. Pain splintered through his arm as it collided with the wood once more. He growled at the offending object and caressed his throbbing hand.
He stomped to his bed side and ripped open the top drawer of his bed stand. He had a moment of concern when the key to her door was not lying on the top of the parchments where he thought he had left it.
Cursing vividly, he dug through the drawer. Relief washed away some of the frustration when his hand closed around the small cold key. Peter rushed back, turned the key and threw the door open.
Vanessa stood defiantly in the center of the room, hands on her narrow hips. Peter could feel the anger radiating from her like the heat of a blazing fire. Its dangerous flames threatened to engulf him as he encroached upon her. “How dare you just walk into my chambers? This is my chambers, is it not? I cannot believe you would allow your whore to humiliate me like she did, and you said nothing.”
Peter shook his clouded head in an unsuccessful attempt to clear it. Guilt pricked its hooks into him once again. She was right, he had said nothing. The pain dug in deeper. From the way it looked, Vanessa probably thought he had defended Rebeka. He had not. He just had not wanted Vanessa to hurt her. “Damn it, woman, I did not want to cause a big scene, but I guess you took care of that anyway.” He closed the gap between them. “Do not ever lock your door against me and nay, these are not your chambers. They are mine. This entire castle and everything in it is mine. That includes you.” He had to gain control of her now, or he was afraid she would never be the wife he needed her to be.
Vanessa stiffened and her chin rose up a notch. Her eyes flashed with anger and pride. Peter scowled. How could one woman drive him so mad? He took a deep breath.
“As such, you will act accordingly.” He had trouble focusing on anything except the way her dress pulled into her curves, unencumbered by even the thin chemise that decent women wore. He could see the candle light through the bottom of the dress and although he could see nothing specific, irritation began to turn to anger as he thought of the way the men looked at her throughout the night. He could not allow her to dress so in front of his men. He did not want her near the men and would allow nothing to encourage the men to take unwanted notice of her.
“It reflects badly on me that you dress so and wear so much face powder. From now on you will wear the clothing you were meant to wear.”
“I do not believe you would like the clothes I was meant to wear.” She grinned lopsidedly at him before she continued. “And nay, I am not yours. I belong to no one. You cannot tell me what to do. You cannot say this is how it will be and expect me not to have any say over my own life.” Her face was reddened beneath the powder, and he could hear the passionate anger in her raised voice.
Fury swarmed his thoughts and invaded him with images of his defiant mother screaming relentlessly at his father. The way she had humiliated him with his men, the way she had spent time alone with them in the barracks. He could see the devastation on his father’s face when she admitted to her affairs with his men, and the tears, that he was afraid would never end, the night that she had left with one of them.
All he could see through his rage was his mother standing before him. “You damned bitch, you will not speak to me in such a way.” He raised his hand to hit her and Vanessa’s face swirled back into his view.
He gasped, dropped his hand and took a step back. All he wanted was his calm life back, wanted things the way they were before she had invaded his peaceful existence.
Vanessa stared at him, but remained silent. He wanted more than anything to know what she was thinking, if she hated him. He could not bring himself to ask the questions he did not know if he could face the answers to. Peter looked around the room at the dingy tapestries on the walls and the layers of dust that covered everything. He shivered. The large room had been vacant for a long time, since his mother had left them. It felt alive with the ghosts of the past. “I will have them send up a bath for you.”
“Nay.” Vanessa’s voice was icy and calm.
Peter knew he had made a mess of the whole day and could only hope that tomorrow would bring better. “Come then, if you are too tired than we can just go to sleep.”
Peter took a slow step toward her and held out his hand. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her how sorry he was, but he would not, could not. She held his gaze and then slowly looked down at his extended hand.
Van looked at his hand, but could not take it. She was angry that he had yelled at her. More, she was angry that she had to force herself not to react. But mostly, she was scared of what it meant to willingly take his offered hand.
She glanced up at his face and was surprised to see the sadness fill his eyes. He dropped his hand. “Change and come to b
ed.” He walked into his chambers. Stopping just inside the door, he turned and waited.
If Van was going to make this work, it would mean sharing a bed with him and postponing it would not make it any easier. She took a deep breath and nodded.
Peter smiled and disappeared from sight but left the door standing open in a quiet invitation.
Van changed slowly and made her way to Peter.
He turned as she walked into the room. “Clean off the powder and come to bed.”
Van stopped, her breath catching in her throat. She could not take off the face powder. Fear coursed through her as she considered the ramifications of Eolian discovering her true identity. He would stop at nothing to get his revenge on her.
Van had not only defeated his army in battles many times, but she had also taken from him a young girl who was pregnant with his child. The young girl had been held against her will until Van had rescued her. Although Eolian did not know the child was his, he swore his revenge on her for taking the woman he professed to love.
Peter took a step toward her drawing her attention back to him. “You cannot sleep in that mess.”
She folded her arms across her chest and looked at him in challenge. “I cannot take off my face powder. I cannot.”
Peter looked at her closely and his soft, concerned voice surprised her. “Tell me why. Tell me and I may allow you to wear it.” Peter stripped off his shirt.
She watched his every move and smiled when she saw the jagged scar on his upper chest and shoulder. It seemed so long ago that she had saved him. She had been a lowly soldier and had known then that she cared more about this man than she could admit to.
“I cannot tell you why. Not now. It is important to me that I am allowed to keep it on.”
Peter sat heavily on the bed. His intent stare never left her face.
Her eyes stung and her breath came in hard little gasps. “I am not what you think I am. I am not the kind of woman you should have married. You can tell them you made a mistake.” Tears built behind her eyes and threatened to drown her. “Tell them you want an annulment. If you tell them it was a lie, that we did not consummate the union, it can be dissolved.” She sucked in a shuddering breath and continued in a bare whisper. “I am not what you want.”
She felt a deep sadness pierce her heart at offering him his freedom. She was afraid he would take her up on it, and she didn’t understand that. It was what she wanted, wasn’t it?
“I have no intention of doing any such thing. You are my wife and you will have to get used to it.” He slipped off his brown leather boots and then his hose. He rose slowly and walked toward her in nothing at all. His voice was gentle and caressing. “If it is that important to wear the ridiculous stuff, I will allow it, for now. Soon though, it will come off.”
Her eyes never left his manhood as it steadily hardened beneath her gaze. Her breath thickened as she took in the rippling muscles in his thighs. Panic rushed through her system and she had to fight the urge to run. Away from him or into his arms she wasn’t sure.
“Are you even listening to me?”
His amused voice tore her from her thoughts. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax.
“If you don’t want that reaction to you, then you really must not stare at me the way you do.” He laughed and held his hand out to her. His eyes held a hopeful look. “Come to bed. I can control myself.” At least he prayed that he could.
Vanessa shook her head, but did not take his hand.
Peter dropped his empty hand once again, pain and guilt pricking at him. He turned toward the bed, held back the covers for her, and waited. He was determined to make things right, though he was not sure how.
Vanessa climbed beneath the bed coverings of his massive bed and lay stiffly as he joined her.
He pulled her close to him, her back to his chest. He could feel the roundness of her bottom pressing into him. “Okay, this will not work,” he mumbled grumpily.
He turned onto his back, pulling her head onto his chest. Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore her gentle breath and her long fingers as they explored the soft curls of blonde hair that covered his chest.
Her hand stopped on the rough scar that still dominated his shoulder. She gently placed a kiss on it, before laying her head comfortably upon it and finding sleep.
Sleep eluded Peter for quite some time. He lay watching her in the guttering light of the candles. He didn’t remember falling asleep. He thought he had stared at her face all night, but when he opened his eyes the sun was rising, the candles had burned themselves out, and she was gone.
CHAPTER 10
Amy ignored the wavering nervousness that coursed through her rolling stomach. She rushed up the stairs in the early morning light and let herself into her lady’s chambers. The bed, though rumpled, did not appear to have been slept in and a quick glance around the room proved that it was empty.
She took in the large dust filled room and her gaze stopped on the closed interior door between the suites. Sure that Van had spent the night in the master’s chambers with her husband, Amy slouched on the bed to await her mistress. Her thoughts were riddled with concern as she pondered all that had happened since they had arrived at the castle.
She closed her eyes and let her mind wander back to the day before. She had been a nervous wreck, terrified of what would happen as Peter got to know Van without her there to censor Van’s run-away mouth. Unable to just sit and wait for them to return from their ride, she had wandered the grounds of her new home.
That was how she had met the handsome Devon Horacio. She had remembered him from Patricia’s funeral and was relieved when he had not recognized her. Her heart fluttered as she pictured the tall green-eyed man and she was looking forward to getting to know him better.
She opened her eyes and a smile spread across her lips. She looked again at the middle door. Her smile slipping away, she shook her head and sighed sadly. The entire castle had heard the fight that had went on between Peter and Van.
She had spoken with several of the house maids as the couple had fought. All were shocked by Lord Grayweist’s behavior. They had gone on and on about how dignified he was, how stoic, the perfect gentleman. Amy giggled when she remembered their wide-eyed whispers. “He is acting just like one of his men.”
The door swung open and Amy jumped from the bed. It was not Lady Vanessa as she had expected, but a very naked Lord Grayweist. A scream escaped her before could get control of it.
“Nay, don’t scream.” Peter hastily picked up the shimmery night robe that lay across the end of the bed and slipped it around him. “I did not mean to frighten you. I was looking for Lady Vanessa. Have you by chance seen her?”
“Nay, milord, I was looking for her as well.” Amy’s fought to control her rapid breathing. Her brow furrowed as fear swept through her. She didn’t want to believe that Van would have run, but she knew it was a possibility.
He looked around the room and shook his head. “I need some things seen to.” He turned a sober face toward her.
She smiled nervously and nodded.
“As I am sure you have been informed, this was my mother’s room. Everything is how she left it. No one has been allowed in this room since the day she left. The servants have not even been allowed in this room to clean.” He sniffed indignantly and looked around. “Obviously.” He smiled softly and turned his attention back to her. “My Vanessa may not spend much time in it, but it should at least be hers, and clean. You will see to that, won’t you?”
Amy felt a grin spread across her lips. My Vanessa, he calls her, she thought, and her grin widened. When Peter looked at her, eyebrows arched in a silent question, all she said was, “Aye, my lord.”
“My lord,” a shaky voice said from beside them.
Amy and Peter both turned toward the adjoining door. Peter’s second-in-command stood with a smirk growing on his face. He bit his lip, struggling to keep a straight face. He lost and cleared his throat before conti
nuing. “You look very nice in that pink and lacy robe, but shall I call for Miceal to help you dress?” Grant turned to Amy and gave her a big wink. “See what happens when he is left to dress himself.”
She looked back to Peter with a grin, but he only scowled.
Grant turned back to his lord and added. “You have promised to take Lady Vanessa to see the training of your men. She is waiting.”
“I promised her no such thing.” Peter shot of the bed and left it rocking beneath Amy.
She took a deep breath and groaned.
“Where would you get an idea like that? Nay, do not answer that. I take it you have seen my meek little bride this morning.” Peter slapped his hand on his forehead, slid the hand down his face, and shook his head with a groan.
“Aye, my lord, I saw her this morning at the stables. Now I am not sure where she has disappeared to,” Grant said a bit hesitantly.
With that, both men rushed into Peter’s chambers. Amy headed directly to the stables. She needed to make sure Van’s horse was still safely in his stall. She was almost to the stables when a deep voice resonated from behind her. Her heart jumped to her throat at the familiar voice.
“Miss Devant?” he repeated.
A shiver ran through her and she could not contain her smile as Devon’s voice rumbled behind her.
“Mr. Horacio.” She turned toward him slowly, trying unsuccessfully to feign nonchalance. Her heart thrummed erratically in her chest as she looked into his sparkling green eyes.
“Pray, call me Devon.” He smiled as he took her hand. He turned it softly, brought it to his full lips, and kissed her palm. “How are you today? Things as good as they were yesterday?”
Her breath caught. She had to force her numb lips to respond. “I am fine,” she said, pulling her hand away from his. She took a deep breath to control the butterflies that beat relentlessly at her stomach, demanding to be released into the brightness of the morning.
The Dark Lady Page 16