His expression changed to the cruel visage she had seen earlier when he was in a
high rage, the face of a man capable of committing any atrocity. Since she had
done naught to cause it, she had to assume that it was that mention of Fulkhurst
Castle being held by another. And she had thought only she and Gilbert had his
enmity? She pitied that ?other,? if he or she were not already dead.
But his black look did not last; it returned to that smile that was not a true
smile.
?I find, however, that I will not be satisfied unless you have every humiliation
that was mine. So I will lend you my own presence while Enid attends your needs,
and as I have already warned you, you will keep your eyes on me. You will not
try to ignore me or close your eyes against my presence. Do you understand??
Rowena was too appalled even to nod, but she would have screamed invective at
him if she could. And now she knew a further thing he had suffered, the
frustration of being unable to answer back, with curse or otherwise.
Enid returned all too soon and began her new duties without being told. Rowena,
cognizant of Warrick?s threat, kept her eyes only on him where he leaned against
the bedpost. But she did not see him. She concentrated on Enid instead, and on
the brief glance she had had of her, picturing the servant in her mind. Despite
her gray hair, the woman was not really old, mayhap only two score in years. She
had a slightly crooked nose, but otherwise her features were fair, her skin
smooth and unlined. And she had gentle hands that were swift and efficient, for
which Rowena would be forever grateful.
The worst was finally over, but that violation of her privacy had been worse
than the rape. At least with the rape, he had been naked, too, and with her
sense of fairness, she felt she deserved it. But not this. Warrick, through his
twisted logic, had given her two people to witness her shame, when he had had
only one.
She tried to remember that he had suffered the same thing, the same feelings,
and that was why he was forcing them on her. It made no difference. This she had
not deserved. And the very moment her gag was removed, she cleared her vision of
her self induced blurring and told him what she thought of him, damn the
consequences.
?You are the most despicable, cruel man alive, a thousand times worse than
Gilbert!?
His answer was to tell the servant ?I do not care to listen to her, Enid, so
keep the food in her mouth so she has no time to do aught but chew it.?
?Bast?
She nearly choked on the food, there was such a large spoonful of it shoved in
her mouth. And before she had half finished chewing it, another took its place.
Enidhad she thought she could be grateful to her?obeyed her lord to the letter.
And before Rowena had a chance to say another word, a new gag was being tied in
place.
The servant was summarily dismissed after that. And Warrick left the foot of the
bed to come to the side and lean over her. His face was almost handsome again,
it was so without emotion.
?Stupid wench,? he said blandly.
?That was a clever trick, to distort your vision. But had you obeyed me, you
would have seen that I lent only my presence, not my attention. Only now you
have earned a punishment for your willfulness. Can you guess what it will be??
His attention? Nay, more than that, for his hand went right to her loins, his
fingers pushing painfully into her dry heat and staying there. Her lack of
response did not bring a frown this time however, for he had the memory of her
earlier yielding to assure him that she could resist no longer than he.
Slowly, with supreme confidence, he began to undo the ties on his chausses with
his free hand, while the other remained tightly pressed between her legs. And by
his order she had to watch him do it.
?Fight it, little thief,? he commanded softly.
?Fight it as I did, and learn that the body cares naught about hate and rage and
shame. It is but a simple vessel, with simple but powerful instincts, and one of
the most basic is the age old instinct to procreate.?
His flesh sprang loose beneath his tunic, and by the bulge against the black
cloth, she knew it was already full grown. That very knowledge flooded her
insides to wet his fingers and she groaned, knowing now what the moisture
signified, though his triumphant laugh told her as well.
He did not touch her anywhere else, and he mounted her immediately to slide so
easily into her body. This was a punishment, not part of his revenge, not part
of his like for like, for he was not supposed to have forced her again until the
morrow. Her body did not care. It was providing the means to avoid pain,
welcoming the means to procreate, despite the fact that she had already
fulfilled that basic instinct. But it was also welcoming another thing, and
although she fought it this time, denied it with her whole will, screamed in
rage against it, there was pleasure in the deep thrusts rocking her that could
not be denied. And, God help her, Warrick was watching her when that pleasure
culminated and burst into throbbing radiance, her total surrender to his mastery
writ clearly for him to savor. But she was watching him this time, too, for the
first time, and when the same pleasure took him, the cruel lines on his face
vanished for an instant, showing her again the truly handsome man beneath the
mask of hatred.
She did not want to see that, closed her eyes against it, and did not care if he
killed her for it. All he did was collapse against her, his forehead to her
pillow, his cheek against her temple, his labored breath ringing in her ears.
Nor did he leave her as quickly as before.
When he did, his breath had returned to normal, and his mask was back in place.
He made quick work of retying his laces, but with that done, he stared at her,
letting his eyes rove down the length of her before coming back to her still
flushed face, and his fingers trailed down the soft underside of her raised arm.
?Mayhap you will obey my commands more closely in the futureor mayhap not.?
And then his cruel lips curled to sneer contemptuously.
?You will admit I never yielded as easily as you, wench. I wonder what the
thought of how many times I will come to you in the next days does to you. And I
will not wait upon the night, for I do not intend to lose sleep as you did. Are
you in dread, little thief, or do you no longer find my revenge quite so
distasteful??
She would have spit in his face if she were not gagged. Her eyes told him so and
he laughed.
?Excellent. I would not like to think you await my visits eagerly when I so
detested yours, when all I thought about was getting my hands around this soft
throat and squeezing the last breath from your little body.?
That his hand came to that area now and squeezed did not cause Rowena alarm. He
would never settle for anything as quick and final as her death when he was so
cruel and merciless. But he saw her lack of fear, and his hand moved down to
squeeze her breast instead of her throat.
?Think you you know me, do you?? he bit out, clearly displeased with her n
ow.
?Think again, wench, for you will never know me well enough to guess what I am
capable of, never know what demons have shaped me and made me into what I am.
Best you pray I find revenge against you satisfying, for if it palls, you may
well wish for death.?
If he thought merely to frighten her with those words, he was diabolically
ingenious.
Chapter 18
When Rowena thought of Warrick de Chaville coming to her again, she would begin
to tremble, so she did not think of it. But he came.
She was not even awake when he came the next morn, the darkness of the night
only just receding. But when she finally became aware of him, she was also aware
that he had already coaxed her body to receive him. And he made quick work of it,
so quick that she was almost more bitter about having her sleep disturbed than
about having her body invaded, for the one was over and done with before she
felt much of anything, but as exhausted as she was, she still could not get back
to sleep after he left her.
Enid came not long after, but Warrick did not come with the servant this time.
And Rowena was in no mood for the sympathetic looks she was receiving from the
older woman, yet she again found herself grateful to her. She had not even known
her shoulders were aching from the forced restraint until Enid started to
massage the area, and although it was not necessary that she do so, she
thoroughly washed the smell of that monster from Rowena?s skin.
But he came again at midday. And he came again at dusk. Rowena?s only
compensation was that he had had to work hard to caress that shameful moisture
from her the third time. And so it went the next day also, except the third time
that day, the last time she should have to suffer his body into hers, was the
worst of them all.
The man was not interested in merely preparing her to receive him, he was after
something else, and she would not be surprised if it was to drive her mad. He
touched her long after he knew she was ready for him, caressed her more than she
could bear. He stirred lust in her until she would have begged him to take her,
but all she could do was take what he gave, a new knowledge of her own body, a
knowledge of her weakness of spirit as well as flesh. The bastard made her want
him. And he knew it. ?Twas his final triumph.
The only thing that sustained Rowena was her certainty that she would be
released on the third morn, to satisfy his like for like. Yet she dreaded what
further revenge he had planned for her, for she did not think for a minute that
he would be satisfied merely with what he had already done. He had said her life
now belonged to him in payment for Gilbert?s intention of killing him, and that
he placed little value on it. He had said she was now his to do with as he would.
Nay, he would not let her go as she had him at least not until the child was
born. If he meant to keep it, and keep her from it, then he would have to let
her goor merely send her to another of his properties. She still could not let
that happen, though she knew not what she could do about it now, when she did
not even know what the next day would bring.
It brought Enid with the key to her chains. Rowena had expected Warrick to come
himself so he could tell her what further humiliations were to be hers. Enid, of
course, could tell her naught. But she had brought food that Rowena was able to
feed herself, and she had brought clothes.
The clothes gave Rowena her first suspicions of what was now to be her lot. Her
own clothes had long since been taken away, but these new ones were nowise like
them. The chemise and outer bliaut were both homespun wool in a drab dun, not
overly coarse, but naught that could be considered of a fine quality. They were
clothes for a castle servant, the bliaut shorter than any lady would wear it,
new, clean, and now Rowena?s. For a girdle there was a strip of braided leather.
Thick woolen hose were included, as well as plain cloth shoes, but no soft
braies or shift for underwear. She was to be naked under these garments, likely
as one more humiliating reminder of her changed circumstance.
And she was to leave the lord?s chamber.
As soon as Rowena had worked the stiffness out of her arms, and dressed and
rebraided her hair, Enid beckoned her to follow. The woman could not tell her
what was to be done with her, but she obviously knew where Rowena was to go. And
no sooner had they entered the Great Hall than she felt the stare that drew her
eyes to the lord?s table.
Warrick sat there, a sunbeam slanting through one of the high windows giving
bright gold highlights to his dark blond head. Though the hour had long since
passed for breaking his fast, a trencher and a tankard of ale still sat before
him. He stared at her without expression, just stared, which made her recall the
last time he had seen her, naked on his bed.
But that was over, she reminded herself. She could endure anything else that he
intended for heras long as that was over. However, he did not summon her to him.
He had no intention of giving her warning of what was to come. So be it. It
could not be so bad if he did not want to witness her horror upon learning of it.
A movement behind him caught her eye before she continued on. She glanced toward
the hearth to see a group of women sitting there, all stopped in what they had
been doing and staring avidly at her. She had not noticed them sooner because
the brightness at the lord?s table did not extend back to the hearth. In fact,
the sunbeam was so bright, all around it seemed almost in shadow. But her eyes
adjusted now and noted that most of the women were ladies, several of them very
young. And the two youngest were frowning at her, frowns so similar?
God?s mercy, Warrick had daughters nigh full grown! They did not closely
resemble him, except for those frowns that marked them clearly de Chavilles.
Then he must have a wife, too. Nay, what lady wife would give up her solar so
her husband could rape another woman in it? Then again, any wife of Warrick de
Chaville?s would have no say in whatever he did, whether he kept mistresses or
raped women in his bed. And Rowena could only pity a woman with such a husband
as he.
And then she gasped as one of the women stood up from her stool so Rowena could
see her clearly. Mildred! How was it possible?
Joy burst in Rowena?s breast, lit up her face, and she took a step forward.
Mildred turned away from her to look toward Warrick, then sat back down, hidden
again by the women sitting in front of her. Without a word? Without even an
expression of greeting? Rowena did not understand. But then her gaze came back
to Warrick to see his smile, and she did understand. In some way this was
another revenge on his part. Could he have somehow turned Mildred completely
against her? Nay, she did not think that possible, but obviously Mildred was not
to talk to her.
The anger burst on her as swiftly as the joy of a moment ago. She had already
been disturbed that she was to be allowed naught up her skirts but stockings and
skin, already suspicious of the next step of Warrick?s plot to break he
r, but
this, to deny her the woman who was like a second mother to her? She forgot her
tenuous position, forgot that he could throw her back in his dungeon, beat her,
kill her.
She ignored Enid?s hand pulling on hers and marched up the raised dais to the
front of his table until she stood across from him. He did no more than raise
his brows in question, as if he could not see that she was enraged.
She leaned forward to hiss for only his hearing ?You can deny me every last
thing that I hold dear, but I can and will pray every day for the rest of my
life that you rot in hell, Warrick.?
He gave her that cruel smile that she was corning to know so well.
?Am I supposed to fear for a soul that is already damned, wench? And I did not
give you leave to be so familiar in your address.?
She leaned back, incredulous. She had just cursed him to everlasting hell, and
he was only concerned with her use of his first name? She was seething, and he
continued to merely smile at her?
?I beg your pardon,? she sneered.
?What I should have called you was bastard.?
He stood up so fast, he startled the anger out of her. And before she even
thought to run, he leaned completely across the table to grab her wrist.
Rowena gasped, his hold was so tight, but all she heard him say was ?My lord.?
?What??
?You did not end that statement with the proper address due me. Say ?my lord.??
He was not going to kill her for calling him bastard?
?But you are not my lord.?
?I am now, wench, and henceforth I will hear you say sooften. And I will hear
you say it now.?
She would rather cut out her tongue. He must have seen that in her stubborn
expression, because he jerked her close to warn in a soft but menacing tone,
?You will say it, or I will have a whip fetched and mete out the standard
punishment due for such insolence.?
Twas no bluff. He had said it, so he would do it, whether he wanted to do it or
not. A man such as he did not give idle threats. And she liked it better when
she did not know the consequences.
But she waited several pounding heartbeats before she gritted out ?My lord.?
He released her immediately. She rubbed her wrist while he sat back down, his
expression no different from what it had been before she had challenged himand
Lindsey, Johanna - Prisoner Of My Desire Page 12