The soft glow from the hearth bathed his face in a warm light, enhancing his rugged features and deft chin but failing to temper the hatred Jewel saw shining in his eyes, and she wondered at its cause. She had lived her life under the loving rule of her father, pledging her commitment to a man she did not know, and had never strayed from that oath in mind or body. Yet the callousness she saw reflected in his eyes hinted of disbelief. Forcing down the lump in her throat, she looked away. Was it of any importance whether or not he thought her faithful? He had raped her and murdered her family, and by the grace of God, she would see him punished.
The penetrating silence unnerved her and she glanced up to return his malevolent glare, noticing for the first time that he had shed his armor and sword, though he looked none the less dangerous garbed in the simple leather tunic. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest and although she wished it, she could not still that strange stirring in her blood when she looked upon him. She twisted nervously in the bed and studied the interior of the room.
"Where have you taken me?" she asked, her tone lacking the strength she had hoped to convey. When he failed to answer, she reluctantly looked back at him. He sat unmoving, his wide chest barely revealing the breaths he took, and Jewel squirmed under his unrelenting consideration. "What do you want of me? You've murdered my family; what more can I give?"
"Tsk, tsk," he mocked with a shake of his tawny head. "The peasant woman in the hamlet has more faith than my own betrothed."
"I am not!" she protested hotly. "I would join my family before I would speak the vows. Nay! I will never marry you!"
His wide shoulders lifted with his shrug. "Then we agree on one point. Twas not my intention to stand before the altar with you or any woman."
His cold admission cut to the core of her being, yet she could not fathom why when it had been her desire as well. Her lower lip quivered, her tears surfaced, and before she could stop the question from spilling forth, she asked weakly, "Even after you had learned the identity of the woman at the inn?"
Amery laughed shortly. "Do you think there have not been others before you? You served my need at the moment, 'twas all. I will not be chained in wedlock because I bedded a wench, so do not fault yourself overmuch."
Jewel's anger flared, for her pride had been sorely injured. '"Tis you whose head has swollen. Though there are many who showed jealousy when the name of my betrothed was given, an equal share held pity in their hearts for me. You are no prize, Sir Amery of Wellington." Unsatisfied, she chose a different course. "I knew Lord Ryland well, a kind and gentle soul, and since the rumors flowed that your mother had many lovers, I wonder now if you can truly call him father." Resting back on her heels, she crossed her arms over her chest, pleased with her foolish accusation until she saw the color of his eyes turn the shade of emerald. Her courage fled.
"Hadst thou truly known Lord Ryland," he began, his voice low, "thou wouldst have called him weak, for he let his thoughts be guided by a woman." The smile he gave her seemed closer to a sneer. "'Tis a trait to which I make no churn."
"Because he loved her," Jewel argued faintly.
"Love?" he challenged. "The woman cast a spell on him, blinded him to reasoning. He held no love in his heart.... not even for his son!"
Jewel saw the pain reflected in his eyes before he turned them away to gaze into the fire, and for a moment she felt pity for the child of years ago. Her life had been blessed with the love of two adoring parents while he had sought the tiniest morsel from one. Had they lived each other's youths, would she have felt the same? Perhaps, but she doubted she would have grown so callous as to slay a gallant knight whose sword had been put away. Her sorrow at stirring unpleasant memories vanished when her own arose.
"Dost thou plan to seek a ransom from Radolf for my return?" she ventured dispassionately.
His gaze never leaving the bright flames in the hearth, Amery smiled crookedly. "All that Radolf has is mine. 'Twould be foolish to demand payment with money that already belongs to me."
"Then what?"
"You shall be the prize, little one, but not one for exchange. I learned long ago of his love for you and now that love will be his downfall. He will search for you and when we meet on even ground without his knights at his back, he will feel the edge of my sword." He grew quiet a moment, then added, "And besides, I rather enjoyed the feel of you beneath me and shall sample your charms again whenever it is my want." Leisurely, he peered over at her, chuckling at the frightened look in her eyes. "Where is thy tongue now, my sweet?" he beckoned playfully.
Every muscle in Jewel's body tightened as she remembered all too clearly the strength the man had possessed in subduing her the night before. She would be no match, a helpless victim to his desires each and every time he willed it, and she knew her only hope would be to escape him. Frantic, she carelessly glanced at the door, mentally calculating the time it would take her to reach it. But Amery had expected as much and when Jewel sprang from the narrow pallet, he bolted to his feet, swept the table from his path with a powerful swing of his arm, and caught her around the waist before she had covered half the measured steps.
"Nay! Unhand me," she screamed when he crushed her to his chest, her arms and legs thrashing wildly.
She fought to loosen his grasp, digging her nails into the fingers that so effortlessly held her, pounding a tiny fist against his shoulder, straining to push him away, but all failed. He chuckled at her fury and when she raised a hand to strike his face, he easily trapped her wrist in an iron grip, twisting her arm behind her as he slowly set her down. Jewel could feel every inch of hard muscle in his massive frame against her own slender form, knowing with certainty he could break her if he wanted, and she trembled fearfully that he might when his hand moved to the back of her head. She closed her eyes, praying her death would come swiftly, and hung limp in his arms. But to her surprise, Amery's mouth swooped down upon hers, stealing her breath away and fanning a long-hidden spark of passion within her that she had never known existed. It started in the pit of her stomach and spread upward, revolving, growing, until her flesh burned with the sensation. Her mind whirled as a mixture of loathing and pleasure scrambled into one, confusing her, and Jewel thought she would swoon from the sheer ecstasy of his embrace. She relaxed in his arms, her own slowly moving upward to encircle his neck as she savored the feel of his lips upon hers, the taste of him, the tenderness he expressed, and she returned the kiss with equal ardor.
Amery released her abruptly, his handsome face showing no emotion of any kind, and Jewel's flamed with her embarrassment, for she was shocked that he could so easily arouse such desire in her and all the while seem unaffected. He could not have shamed her more if he had stripped her for the world to see.
"Tell me, little one, do my half brother's kisses excite you"
Jewel opened her mouth to set him back a step by claiming the statement true, then thought better of it. This was no lovestruck lad begging for her attention, fighting to mask his jealousy. He mocked her. He wanted her to deny the feelings that shone clearly in her eyes. Well, she would not allow him the satisfaction, for whether she answered yea or nay, he would enjoy a victory on either count.
"Your half brother, sir, is a gallant knight," she replied instead.
Amery threw back his tawny head and roared his laughter. "Who hides behind his mother's skirts? Nay, Lady Jewel, he is not. And in time you will come to learn his true nature."
"As I have already learned yours?" she returned flippantly.
The smile lingered, "Nay, only part of mine. There is a side to me few know and a great many surprises yet to come." His green eyes darkened. "Now sit thee down and do not stir. I will not be as gentle if you seek your freedom again."
"Then kill me now, oh gallant knight," she jeered, "and save yourself the effort, for at every turn I will endeavor to escape you.
"Death will not be your punishment," he stated simply, lifting a coppery curl resting against her breast and sampling its silky
texture between a thumb and finger. "Methinks there are more pleasant ways to tame a shrew."
His meaning was clear and her understanding showed unmistakably in her eyes. Frightened that he might use any minor excuse to carry out his threat, she quickly backed away and returned to the pallet, sitting down on the edge and preparing for any sudden move he might make. He studied her only a short while before he went to the single window in the hut and looked outside, and Jewel noticed how he moved with graceful ease, his strong muscles supporting his large frame, yet he could be ready at a moment's warning to defend himself. Jewel had no doubt that this man could rise triumphant in any battle, whether wielding his sword of steel or striking a blow with his fist. Though her father was not of small stature, she suspected that even in his younger days, if he were to have met this man on the field of battle, he too might have fallen victim to this mightier foe. Jewel's throat tightened with her venturous musings. Indeed, Lord Alcot had met the man dressed in full armor white the elder's hands had been empty, and her shame mounted tenfold that she could feel anything for this knight other than hatred. Silently, she cursed her lack of courage when her father's had held true to the end. Were they not of the same blood? Her eyes shifted to the wood pile stacked beside the fireplace. Had the events fallen differently and had it been her life this knight had taken, would her father not have avenged her death? Cautiously, she looked upon the one near the window. Yea, she decided, and without a thought to consequence. Her delicate chin rose and all reasoning fled her. Mayhap he Would kill her if the blow she dealt him missed the mark, but in her death she would find a greater peace knowing she had tried.
With the stealth of a night creature stalking its prey amid the shadows, her eyes affixed to the tall, threatening form staring out into the blackness, Jewel left the narrow pallet and moved toward the hearth. It was her intent to seize the thickest log from the pile, steal across the room, and strike the unsuspecting warrior while his back was turned. Then, Cod willing, she would pierce his heart with the sharp-edged blade of his own dagger and know the sweet taste of revenge.
Her tiny hands trembled as she bent to cull her weapon. Her heart pounded in her ears, and for a moment she hesitated. Her nature was gentle, and the mission she had chosen would take more than simple courage. It meant she must abandon her belief that all life upon the earth was precious. She swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut—just as her father's had been. Gripping the rough piece of wood in both hands, she stood erect, let out a breathless sigh, and turned to face her enemy.
The pale light from the hearth cast a soft yellow glow through the small window, which fell upon the ground just outside, and Amery studied it awhile before he lifted his eyes to the shadows of the woods surrounding the tiny hut. He looked, but he did not see, for his thoughts were on a different place and time. In his mind's eye, he saw a young boy with golden hair and green eyes standing beside his father as the elder listened to the problems of his people. He remembered the pride even that small child felt for the man who ruled Wellington fairly and with gentle hand. Times had been good then, and he had often heard his father laugh. Then another had stepped between them, and Amery's eyes darkened as he thought of Lady Edlyn. She had been sweet and loving toward her stepson at first, and although reluctant in the beginning to share his father with this woman, the young boy had learned to love her. But that joy had been short-lived. Within the first year, his father and stepmother had begun to argue. After Radolf was born, it had worsened, and the young Amery had watched his father withdraw into a silent, weak-willed image of what he had once been. Amery had rebelled because of it, and that was when Edlyn had turned on him. If it had not been for
Doane and his patient understanding and guidance, Amery realized he would have broken under the woman's scorn and devious methods, and he wished now that he had not been so quick to leave Wellington. Things had only deteriorated in his absence to a point where he was not sure they could ever be restored.
His eyes narrowed and the frown that kinked his brow deepened as he thought of Lord Alcot. The man had been Ryland's lifelong friend and neighbor, and Amery knew why. He was steadfast, loyal, strong willed, and gentle, and had Amery had a mind to wed, he would have been honored to take Alcot's daughter as his bride. An unfamiliar pang of tenderness stirred within him when he thought of Jewel. She was different from the rest. He could not honestly name the reason why. She was beautiful, but there had been others just as comely as she. Was it the fact that she had been a virgin that sparked his interest? Or the mystery about the auburn-haired innocent he had found alone by the fire. Perhaps it was her desire to have nothing to do with him that heightened the challenge to sway her feelings and add her to the list of those who groveled at his feet. The faint smile on his lips disappeared and in its stead a frown deepened the lines around his eyes. Nay. Jewel would never grovel, and truthfully he hated the women who did. They were like heavy chains around his ankles and sought to slow him down. He wanted to be free! Then what? Why had this tiny vixen wedged her image in his brain like the thorn of a rose, pricking his conscience and festering the wound until healing from it seemed impossible? Suddenly annoyed by the discovery, he unwittingly glanced over his shoulder at her, for her presence in the room was more than he could ignore, and he stiffened in rage as he saw her lift a piece of firewood in her tiny hands, knowing instantly what she intended to do.
Jewel's heart lurched in her chest when she saw him, for he had sensed her purpose and now stood facing her, huge fists resting oh his hips, feet apart, his chin lowered, and tawny brows drawn together in an ominous frown. Her knees shook, threatening to spill her to the floor, and out of foolish desperation, she lifted the heavy piece of firewood and flung it at him. To her shock and horror, he merely raised a wide hand and caught it in midair long before it could do any damage. Terrified, she dropped to her knees, expecting him to turn the weapon on her when he raised it high across his chest as if to strike her, and she closed her eyes, praying it would be a swift and painless death. She jumped violently when instead it crashed against the wall.
Suddenly, his hand brutally gripped her arm and drew her to her feet. She could feel every inch of his hardened frame as he crushed her to him, see the rage burning in his emerald eyes, and once again, her courage vanished.
"I have killed many for less than this, little one," he hissed. "Though in truth, never a damsel whose sanity has fled."
He glared at her a moment longer, then turned and dragged her toward the pallet with him, there to throw her roughly upon the bed of straw. His hands moved to the fastening of his leather tunic, and Jewel scrambled up on her knees, her back pressed against the wall.
"What dost thou intend, Sir Amery?" she asked, eyes wide and her voice quavering.
"To tame a shrew, fair Lady Jewel." Though spoken simply, the words had far greater meaning, and the rage that had darkened his eyes changed to lust as his gaze swept the length of her, confirming Jewel's fears.
"Nay!" she screamed, bolting from the pallet. Her feet had not touched the floor before his powerful, unyielding arm came around her waist and jerked her back against his massive chest. His laughter rumbled deep within when she struggled to break his hold, and she was helpless against the nimble fingers that stripped away her clothes. "Please," she begged, tears filling her eyes when he lowered her to the pallet beneath him. "I will give my oath to obey."
"Thy oath?" he questioned with a smile. '"Tis foolish to give it without consideration to what demands might be thrust upon you." He shrugged one thick shoulder. "But if you feel you most, then give it."
Jewel sensed the error of her judgment in thinking he would honor such a pledge and leave her alone as she noted the gleam in his green eyes and the ease with which he had responded. The smooth line of her brows knotted, and she glared back in return. "Thou disgracest the title of knighthood."
"Fling your insults, my sweet," he whispered, rising from her to quickly shed his tunic, chausses, and loincloth, then press
his weight upon the bed once more, "for I have heard them all and have yet to feel their sting. As my armor, my mind is hardened against them."
"And what of thy heart?" she challenged, her arms crossed in front of her. "Is there not one who walks the earth capable of touching it?"
A lazy smile parted-his lips as he pondered the question. "Yea," he finally answered, taking her wrists and pulling them above her head, easily holding them there in one hand, "there is one. A trusted friend and companion who hath never doubted me ... my gallant steed."
" 'Tis understandable," she replied, her lovely face twisted with her sneer. "The beast hath no tongue to state the truth about you, for he alone knows your secrets and can prove your guilt."
"Or innocence," he whispered, lowering his head to taste the tender flesh of her neck.
The searing brand of his kiss set Jewel's body aflame, and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing her mind to close out the sensation and numb her soul. Then his lips moved up her throat and along the fine line of her jaw to her ear, and she shivered when his teeth gently nibbled the lobe. Warm fingers traced the outline of her waist and hip, and Jewel opened her mouth to beg for her release only to have him press a hungry kiss upon her lips while his tongue pushed inside. Then he shifted his weight, and before Jewel could do anything to stop him, he thrust a knee between her thighs. With all the strength she could find, she forced her thoughts elsewhere, vowing that any pleasure he might find with her would simply be in the knowledge that he could do whatever he wanted with her body, but that her mind and soul belonged to her alone. His movements were sleek and long and in total control, and for only the briefest of moments, she wondered what it might be like to share the pleasure with him. Then she remembered little William and how the child had come to meet his death, and her body stiffened with her hatred. His rapid breathing slowed after a time, and when he lifted his tawny head to look at her, Jewel refused to open her eyes. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that she had even been aware of what had happened. Then his deep laughter rumbled in his chest, mocking her, and she could feel the tears burning the backs of her lids. His words cut her to the core.
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