and he found he enjoyed her anger much more than her fear, which made not much
sense to him.
Nor did her daring in deliberately trying to prick his anger make much sense,
considering the seriousness of her position. He had not bothered to undress her
or himself, merely tossing her skirt up as he had warned her he could do.
But he had also told her he did not want her willingness, yet hearing her beg
him to take her had been sweet indeed, appeasing the anger she had sought.
Her skirt was still hiked up to her hips. He brought his hand to rest on her
bare flank and watched her hold her breath. But she did not open her eyes, still
pretending sleep. Another little defiance he chose to let pass for the moment.
His mood was certainly strange, despising her for what she had done to him, but
enjoying too much having her in his power. And this urge to touch her when he
was well satedthat increased his disgruntlement.
He removed his hand from her with a frown, deciding that her presence had to be
responsible for his strange mood. At least that he could rectify, and right
quickly.
?Be gone, wench. My use of you does not include sharing my bed more than I
already have. I did not like sleeping on a hard pallet these last three nights.?
?I am overcome with sympathy,? she retorted as she rolled off the mattress to
the floor and headed straight for the door.
Her sarcasm was too blatant to amuse him.
?Remember my soft bed when you sleep on your own hard pallet,? he called after
her.
She turned to give him a tight little smile.
?Your bed has already been forgottenexcept for me to know a stone slab would be
preferable to it.?
?Such was not your attitude when you were begging me to take you.?
Her face went scarlet at the reminder. Good. That would teach her to be a little
wiser in her taunts. But he forgot about that the moment he noticed her bare
feet.
?Come back here, Rowena.?
Her face went from red to white, making him snap ?I am in no mood to carry you
back to your bed because you were forgetful in bringing your shoes along.?
?Me forgetful? I had had no intention of leaving the weaving room. You wake me
in the middle of the night and expect me to be fully dressed??
?You were not sleeping. But regardless, now you must sleep here after all, until
I can have your shoes fetched in the morn.?
?I will not catch cold, I swear I will not.?
?Do you mean to stand there and argue with me, wench?? he demanded.
She lowered her head.
?No,? she said so softly he barely heard.
?Then get you back in this bed now.?
He said no more while she came forward at a snail?s pace, tempting his patience,
his temper, his good intentions. But by the time she had reached the bed, he was
annoyed enough to add ?Remove that chemise first. I do not care to be chafed by
it do I roll toward you in my sleep.?
Her head snapped up to show him she was not cowed, as he had thought. She had
been trying to hide her fury from him. She gave up the pretense now to yank the
chemise over her head and throw it to the floor. That demonstration of pique was
merely amusing. The redness on her skin from the coarse wool was what kept him
annoyed.
Damned delicate skin. He had just made one exception by permitting her to share
his bed to safeguard her health, and here was another he felt compelled to make
for her.
He did not like having his revenge undermined by incidentals, but still he made
a mental note to tell Enid to fetch the soft linen shift that Rowena had come
with, mayhap her own chemise, too, when she brought the shoes in the morn. But
this had best be the last allowance that must be made because of her size,
gender, or softness, or the wench would begin to think he was not serious in his
dislike of her.
To ensure that she did not think so now, he let his eyes roam over her nakedness
and said ? ?Tis pleasant indeed, teaching you your place.?
?Which is beneath your feet?? she snapped.
He began to remove his own clothes, but spared her a brittle smile before
replying.
?If I so wish it. Now get under the covers. I do not care to hear another word
from you this night.?
Or see any more of that luscious body she did not even attempt to shield from
him now.
For once she quickly did as bidden, but when he joined her moments later after
dousing the candles, and turned toward her merely to find a comfortable position,
she cried out ?I cannot endure your touch again. I will go mad!?
He was tempted to disprove those words. Instead he said ?Be quiet. I am too
tired to force you againno matter how much you might beg for it.?
But perversely, he now put an arm around her and drew her into the curve of his
body.
?I will not be able to sleep like this,? she gritted out.
?Best you hope I can, wench, or ?twill not matter how tired I am.?
She became so still she did not even breathe. He laughed and hugged her closer.
?Do I want you again, your silly antics will not prevent it, so go to sleep ere
I change my mind.?
She breathed again and said no more. Warrick was tired, but not so tired that he
did not appreciate the warm body pressed to his. There was a benefit to her
softness after all, and he realized he could get used to it if he was not
careful.
Chapter 24
God was merciful the next morning in allowing Rowena to wake to an empty chamber.
She did not know how she was going to endure facing Warrick in the bright light
of day after last night, but at least she had a temporary reprievebut not from
the memories.
She groaned as they assailed her, and buried her head beneath the pillow. She
had been so sure she could resist begging Warrick, but with his fingers and lips
tormenting her, with her blood soaring ever faster with need, the words he had
wanted to hear had tumbled from her lips. And she had not cared then, had cared
for naught but the exquisite pleasure he had withheld until she did as he wanted.
The mortification and self loathing had come after, but would last for much
longermost like forever. And she still could not bear the thought of facing him
and seeing his gloating expression.
She would die, burn up with the shame of it, and he would laugh. Her weakness
meant naught to him; his own triumph was everything. Aye, he would laugh, and
she would hate him more than ever?
?Unbury yourself, wench, and put these on.?
Rowena gasped and swung around to find Warrick standing beside the bed with her
shift and chemise in his hands, as well as the bliaut and shoes she had left in
the weaving room. He was frowning at herand had more to say in his brusque tone.
?Think you you can laze abed as you are likely accustomed, simply because I
found some little pleasure in you yestereve? Nay, your status does not change,
nor do your duties, which you have thus far neglected this morn. However, as I
have already eaten, you need not serve at the high table until the evening meal,
so go and break your fast now and attend to your other duties.?
He left befo
re she could come up with a suitable scathing reply. Laze abed
indeed. As if she would, especially in his bed.
And then it dawned on her that she had faced him and survived it. He was not
going to gloat about her shame? He was not even going to mention it other than
that he had found some little pleasure in her? Verily, she did not understand
him at all. He had passed up the perfect opportunity for further humiliation.
She glanced at the clothes left on the bed, and her confusion increased. She
knew why she had been given servants? clothesso she would be constantly reminded
by their roughness of her new status. Yet here were her own undergarments back
in softest linen to protect her skin. She would still have to wear the servant?s
outer gown, but she would no longer be chafed raw by it.
She stared in bemusement at the door through which Warrick had departed. This
cruel man refused to let her go hungry, refused to let her get chilled, albeit
his concern in those matters was for the babe she carried. But now he refused to
let her skin become abraded by the clothes he had insisted she wear, and that
was not for the child. That was only for her. Cruel? Aye, certainly he wasbut
mayhap not to the core.
Nay, what was she thinking? There was no kindness in Warrick de Chaville, not
even a little. No doubt he had some ulterior motive in giving her back her
underclothes that she just could not see yet, but was like to cause her
embarrassment somehow. The hateful man. Did he have naught better to do than
plot ways to plague her?
She dressed quickly, sighing with pleasure at the familiar comfort of her thin
white shift and the snug fitting red chemise that covered her ankles as was
properfor a lady, anyway. The coarse dun bliaut no longer touched her skin at
all, but she found she would have a problem keeping it up on her shoulders, now
that she had ��her smooth chemise under it instead of the rough wool that had at
least kept the loose garment in place.
Regardless, she felt so much better wearing at least something of her own that
she was almost smiling when she entered the hall, and did smile when she saw
that Warrick was not there to unnerve her with those chilling silver eyes. She
looked for Mildred at the hearth, but only Warrick?s daughters were there with
their tutor, learning new stitches. She did not spare them another glance, so
did not notice how they watched her all the way to the kitchen stairs, with
looks almost as baleful as their father?s.
?Pay her no mind, my dears,? Lady Roberta admonished.
?A lady does not deign to notice women of her sort.?
?But she passed the night in his solar,? thirteen year old Melisant pointed out.
?Celia never passed the whole night with him.?
?Celia is hardly pleasant company with her haughty airs,? Beatrix said with a
disdainful sniff.
Beatrix was the older daughter at ten and four, if you did not count the bastard,
Emma, whom their father never even asked after, and whom neither legitimate
daughter acknowledged as sister. Melisant was the prettier of the two, with her
light blond hair and gray eyes, which had just enough blue in them to make them
not so cold as her father?s. Beatrix had brown hair and eyes herself, and
cheekbones too narrow. She would have been passing fair if her expression were
not always so pinched and disapproving. But then, it was a well known fact that
Warrick had been betrothed to her mother at a young age, and her mother had been
a plain looking woman. Whereas Warrick had picked Melisant?s mother himself for
her comeliness.
Beatrix did not hold this too much against her younger sister. She was older,
after all, and her father?s heir. Melisant would have her mother?s dower
property, but Beatrix would have all the restas long as there was no male heir.
Which was why Beatrix had lived in dread of the Lady Isabella?s coming, and had
silently rejoiced to hear the maid was now missing, possibly dead. It had taken
Warrick so long to find her when he had decided ?twas time for another wife, and
longer still to make contract for her. And he was so busy with his wars and
increasing his property, which would be Beatrix?s property, that he would not
have time to look for another wife.
But she did not like the rumors she was hearing about the new servant. Twice now
it had been whispered to her that the wench was breeding, and that the babe was
likely Warrick?s. That was not alarming in itself, for Warrick would never wed a
lowly serf, and a serf?s bastard would never inherit Fulkhurst, even were it a
male child. But the other rumor she had heard, that the wench was not truly a
serf, but a lady born who had merely earned Warrick?s enmity that put a
different face on it.
She did not believe it. Even her father, who was utterly ruthless to his enemies,
would not treat a lady so. But if it was true, and the girl gave Warrick a son,
he might be induced to wed her.
Beatrix knew he wanted a male heir. Everyone knew it. But she could not bear it
if it came to pass, not now, after she had lived her whole life with the
expectation of having it all. She wanted it all, needed it. She did not have
Melisanf?s prettiness. Only the promise of Fulkhurst would get her the husband
she wanted.
?There she is again,? Melisant said as Rowena appeared in the hall with Enid in
tow this time.
?I wonder from where she got that pretty red chemise.?
?Spoils Father no doubt gave her,? Beatrix replied with narrowed eyes.
?I think I will summon her and?
?You will not, young lady,? the tutor scolded sternly, fully aware of how
spiteful her charge could be.
?Do you make trouble for your lord?s leman, the trouble is like to come back to
you. Remember that for when you have a husband.?
Beatrix glared at the old woman, but did not argue. She had found it easier just
to ignore Lady Roberta?s sage advice and then do as she pleased when the pious
old fool was not around.
Chapter 25
With the thorough cleaning done yesterday, Rowena and Enid finished early in the
solar, so it was well before noon when Rowena climbed the stairs to the weaving
room. But she nearly jumped out of her skin when one of the doors she had to
pass to get there opened and she was yanked inside.
? Tis about time you came along,? a voice grumbled, though with unmistakable
affection.
?Mildred!?
?Aye, and spending my whole morn up here just waiting for you to leave the
weaving room. How did I miss you that you are coming from below??
Rowena was too busy hugging the older woman to say anything for a moment, but
then the words flowed out of her.
?How do you come to be at Fulkhurst? Has Warrick sought revenge against you, too?
I am so glad you are here, Mildred, but not if you are being abused by that
monster. But I thought never to see you again and?
?Shush, my sweet one,? Mildred soothed, and led Rowena to sit on a stool amidst
baskets of sewing materials.
?How can I answer if you do not pause for breath so I can? And why did you not
answer my own question? I was told you would be sleeping in the
weaving room.?
Mildred took the stool next to her, but Rowena did not look at her when she said
?I slept below yestereve.?
From the bright pink tingeing Rowena?s cheeks, Mildred was wise enough not to
ask where. All she said was ?I am not surprised.?
Rowena?s head snapped up.
?You are not? Why are you not? It shocked me that he would want toto? He had
already had his revenge in that way.?
?Did he??
?Aye, exactly like for like. All that was done to him he did to meand now more.?
?Then it has been so terrible??
?Worse than terrible.?
?All of it??
Rowena frowned at that particular question.
?What do you fish for??
Mildred shrugged.
?Like for like, my lamb, means you would experience the same pleasure he had at
your hands. Did you?? Rowena?s cheeks got pinker.
?I see that you did. But ?tis to be expected when you have such a finelooking?
?Crwe Mooking?
?man who knows what he is about.?
?The only thing Warrick de Chaville is about, Mildred, is making me pay for
Gilbert?s greed. Now what do you here? I feared you would be left in Kirkburough?s
ruins, with no way to return even to Tures.?
?No one was left in the ruins. Lord Warrick did not burn the town except for the
inn where he was captured, but even so, he offered all at the keep new homes on
his own properties did they want them. For myself, he felt he owed me for his
release, even though I had told him I did only your bidding.?
?I know how he does not like to hear excuses, will not hear them.?
?Aye, I thought he would kill me did I say another word about it, so angry was
he at the mere mention of your innocence. But he offered me a home here at
Fulkhurst if I would give him my loyalty henceforthforsaking you. Twas the only
way I could follow you here, so I accepted gladly. Only he has forbidden me to
speak to you.?
Rowena sighed.
?So I guessed. He would not want me to have comfort in your presence, though
just knowing you are near is a comfort to me.?
Mildred squeezed her hand.
?Do not despair, my lamb. I do not think he is as mean spirited as he would like
us to think. I have heard much about the events that have shaped him into the
man he is today, and I hesitate to admit this to you, but I find myself feeling
Lindsey, Johanna - Prisoner Of My Desire Page 17