Mistress of Her Fate

by Byrne, Julia

  “The solar door was open.” He halted as soon as she retreated and stood watching her, big and dark and immovable, framed by the grey stone arch behind him. “You’re the only person who would open it and not come into the room, and that would be if you overheard enough to upset you.”

  “Upset me?” She laughed, a brittle sound that made her bite her lip in an effort at control. “Aye, you could say I’m somewhat upset. Being lied to does that to me.”

  “I never lied to you,” he said steadily. “I may not have told you the whole truth, but—”

  “Is that not a lie?” she cried. “Right from the start you’ve lied by omission. From that first night when you said you were there to escort me home. ’Twas the truth, but you forgot to add that your other purpose was to look me over. Why was that, I wonder? Afraid I would refuse you?”

  His amber gaze bored into hers. “As I recall, you were planning to refuse regardless of who the bridegroom turned out to be, but I didn’t say anything then, because there was no need for you to know my reasons for considering a marriage to you.”

  “No need!” Her voice soared. “That was the rest of my life we were talking about. I had a right to know why I was being looked over!”

  “Stop throwing those words at me!” he yelled suddenly. He clenched his fists and his eyes closed briefly in a visible bid for patience. “Neither Edward nor I used them, no matter what your father said.”

  “I don’t care what words were used!” she shouted back. “The intent was the same.” And, without warning, words were pouring from her in an uncontrollable stream as her frail shell of composure shuddered, cracked, and was rent asunder.

  “But you didn’t like what you saw, did you, my lord? No wonder you were so angry that night. ’Twas because you were being forced to marry a woman you despised to have your birthright restored to you. Nor was that the only time you lied to me. You said my father promised to renounce his allegiance to Lancaster if the King would confirm his title. Holy saints, why didn’t I suspect then? All those questions you asked about my father’s lands and what would happen in the event of my death. Did you think I would be so grateful for your efforts at keeping me alive that I wouldn’t care if ’twas in your own interests?”

  She laughed again, mockingly. “What a predicament for you. Faced with the same situation as Tom. Both of you trying to put me in a position where I would be forced to marry you, without getting me killed in the process. But you had more to lose, my lord. You said as much. One of the few times you told me the truth, I expect. My aunt is close to the Queen, and if Uncle Edward counter-petitioned to marry me to Tom, your revenge might have received a setback. Especially since you believe the Queen is capable of bending Edward to her will. What were you planning to do in that event? Seduce me?”

  Something flickered in his eyes and Nell staggered back against the wall, gasping as if he’d struck her.

  “You did,” she whispered. If he’d admitted it aloud she couldn’t be more certain. “You did! That was why you were gentler. Why you let me help Bess. Why…”

  She couldn’t go on. Her protective rage was torn from her by the shocking realization that Rafe had made such a cold-blooded plan.

  “Are you done?” he asked with ominous quiet. “I hope so, because you need to listen to me. No one was forcing me to marry you. Nor have I ever lied to you. FitzWarren did petition the King, exactly as I told you, and ’twas that which prompted my own action, though I’d hoped to have more time to find the witnesses I needed to call fitzWarren into court. Edward suggested the marriage to both your father and I as a means of protecting you, so you wouldn’t be left destitute, but if for some reason I didn’t want to marry you, he would back me in a civil claim.”

  She just looked at him, disbelieving, her eyes dry and burning. Pain crouched like a wild beast inside her, snarling, merciless, waiting to spring free the moment she let down her guard.

  He must have seen it, seen her disbelief at least, because his voice softened and he took a step toward her. “Nell, use your common sense. Of course our marriage will make everything quick and tidy, but, if we don’t marry, there is nothing to stop Edward rejecting your father’s petition and restoring title to me on the simple grounds that fitzWarren fought on the side of Lancaster.”

  “Nothing to stop him?” she echoed, incredulous. “Nay, only his bride of four months. Apart from any other consideration, she was the widow of a Lancastrian and is known to favor her family and friends beyond measure. You said yourself that Edward will do anything for her. Nay—” She looked away, speaking almost to herself. “Marriage to me was your only sure way. There were too many risks otherwise. Elizabeth’s influence on behalf of my father or my uncle, the fact that you had no proof, no witnesses…” She paused, vaguely struck by the word. “Witnesses?”

  Rafe gestured impatiently. “Old serfs who were at Hadleigh when your father first arrived there. ’Twas unlikely, however. He was careful to get rid of anyone who posed a threat to his plans.”

  “Even the child of his dead mistress,” she whispered, raising her stricken gaze to his. “The rightful heir. Oh, Rafe…”

  The beast inside her stirred, a claw reaching for her heart. She forced it back, praying Rafe hadn’t heard her. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. None of it matters. Indeed, this whole discussion is unnecessary and—”

  “At least we agree on that,” he muttered. “Nell, sweetheart—”

  She flinched at the endearment and he stopped dead, his eyes narrowing.

  “Don’t,” she begged. “I understand why you planned as you did. Truly I do. But you don’t have to…be kind…any more. You can take my father into court and win your lands back that way. You don’t have to marry me.”

  His brows snapped together. “What?”

  “Take my father into court,” she repeated. “You have your witness. Me. I heard what was said between you. Hadleigh is yours by right of birth. You don’t have to marry me for it.”

  “I already know that,” he grated. “’Tis what I’ve just been telling you. What you heard doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make any difference to us, Nell.”

  “How can you say that?” she cried, anguished.

  Didn’t he understand what she was trying to do? Didn’t he know how impossible this was for her?

  “I’m the daughter of the man who wronged you so grievously he can never be forgiven, and to regain what you’ve lost you intend to ally with your worst enemy, a man you despise. Do you think I want to look at you one day when I’m no longer a means of revenge and justice, and see hatred or resentment in your eyes?”

  “God damn it, I’ve never thought of you as a means—” He stopped abruptly, and the sudden flash of memory in his eyes struck Nell like a fist. She felt the blood drain from her face. The sudden roaring in her ears almost drowned out her own choked words.

  “Nay, you can’t deny it. The same way you can’t deny that you planned to seduce me.”

  “That,” he said through his teeth, “was a separate issue entirely. And I ceased thinking of you as an instrument of revenge days ago. As for justice, it can be achieved through other means. In fact—”

  “Then go ahead and achieve it through those means,” she shrieked, unable to take any more. The pain was too much. Claws were raking at her heart, tearing it to pieces. “Prove you didn’t lie to me. Prove you didn’t intend to use me. Prove it!”

  “All right,” he said very calmly.

  She went still, staring at him.

  “We’ll go to Edward. You can give him your deposition, he’ll pass judgment in my favor and that will be the end of it.”

  Her eyes widened. She couldn’t believe he’d said that, and yet…

  “Do you mean that, in all honor?”

  “If you insist on it. But before you make your decision, princess, think on this. The minute the wax has set beneath the King’s seal, I’ll have us wed by the nearest priest.”

  “What?”

 
; “We can waste all that time so you can prove to yourself that I’m as easily manipulated as any other man, and end up just as wedded as if we’d been married here in Wells without any trouble or unnecessary delay.”

  “I…I can’t…” She frowned and put a shaking hand to her brow. Somehow Rafe was turning the tables on her and she was no longer sure of anything. Manipulate him? She wanted only to right the shameful wrong her father had done, without destroying herself. Was that so terrible?

  “Aye, put like that, your objections sound like the rantings of a distraught female, don’t they, Nell?” His voice was still calm, chillingly so. “Which is why we’re not going to do it that way.”

  “What do you mean?” she whispered. His glittering eyes held an expression that turned her mouth dry and her limbs to water. This was not the passionate lover of yesterday, nor her fierce protector, but the man she had met at Langley. Cold, and hard, and utterly ruthless.

  He started across the room toward her, his fierce amber eyes locked on hers. “I’m sorry you found out about your father the way you did,” he said softly. “But I’m not letting his crimes disrupt our lives any longer. When you calm down, you’ll know I’m right.”

  “Nay! Wait!”

  “We don’t have time to wait.” He stopped less than a foot away from the chair she was clinging to, and his voice hardened. “There’s still the possibility of a child, if you recall. Doing things your way could take several months and no child of mine will be born a bastard.”

  It wasn’t pain that hit her this time, but a healthy bolt of rage.

  “And you call women manipulative. My plan to save us both from a marriage of cold necessity, if indeed I ever had one, pales in comparison to your own to force me into such a situation. Is that why you took me in such haste yesterday? To ensure my agreement to an immediate wedding? Well, it won’t work. You can—”

  Her tirade was abruptly cut short when Rafe reached out, yanked the chair out of her grasp, and tossed it aside as if it weighed no more than feather.

  Nell barely noticed the crash when it landed. Jerked off-balance by the force with which he’d pulled the chair away, she staggered forward against the unyielding wall of his chest with an impact that drove the breath from her lungs. Before she could recover, she was trapped in his arms, held so tightly she could feel every hard male inch of him pressed to her softer frame.

  She lifted her head to protest and her throat closed up. The look in his eyes was fierce, implacable.

  “Don’t say another word,” he bit out. “Not one word, princess. I know yesterday was a shock to you, and over too damned quickly, but I thought you knew I wanted you. Obviously I was wrong and—” He bent and swung her up into his arms with a swiftness that shocked her. “You still need convincing.”

  She stiffened, trying to hold herself rigid as Rafe carried her over to the bed. But her pulse was racing so fast she thought she might swoon, and she began to shiver even as the intense heat of his body wrapped around her.

  “You’re going to force me?” She couldn’t believe he would go to such an extreme. “You know I’ll never forgive you. Never! Is that what you want? For me to hate you?”

  Just for a second his face tightened with an emotion too fleeting for her to name. Then he laid her on the bed and came down over her, the weight of his body keeping her pinned there.

  “Nay,” he murmured. “No force.” And this time there was no anger in his voice, only gentleness. His big hands framed her face and he looked into her eyes as he lowered his mouth to hers. “There’s too much passion in you to make force necessary, sweetheart.” His lips brushed hers. “What do you think is tearing you apart right now? You’re hurt and angry, I know, but there’s more between us than cold necessity.”

  She would not succumb, she vowed fiercely as Rafe began kissing her. He would get no pleasure from this, neither conquest nor willing surrender. She would be as cold, as unfeeling, as passionless as the stone statues on the cathedral.

  Her resolve lasted all of ten seconds. Rafe’s lips moved on hers with a gentle cherishing that crushed every vicious claw piercing her heart. Rage didn’t stand a chance; hurt reached out to be healed. He had never kissed her like this. As if kissing her was all. As if he needed. As if he craved.

  Her lips softened and parted and she was powerless to stop the gentle invasion of his tongue. He tasted, possessed. Her blood warmed, slowly…slowly. She put her hands to his shoulders, intending to push him away, and the solid strength beneath her fingers made her moan silently instead. Somewhere her mind was screaming: Not like this. Not like this. But he was warm and strong and she loved him. Loved him.

  When the kiss ended it was so gradual that for a moment she lay dazed, her breathing light and fast. Then her lashes lifted and the brilliant gold of his eyes slammed into her with a force that left her senses reeling. Triumph, desire, sheer male determination to claim his woman. She saw them all and a silent cry of despair welled up inside her.

  He had won. He would take her and she would marry him, regardless of his reasons, not knowing if he could ever return her love.

  Oh, he wanted her. She believed that. But without love, how long would desire last?

  She gazed up into his eyes, searching desperately, forgetting in her distress that he would not trust his heart easily, and saw only the reflection of herself lying helpless in his arms. He would win this particular battle every time, for she could never withstand him, never leave him. She needed to be close to him in the only way he seemed to want, and he would only have to touch her.

  And, Holy Mother save her, he knew that. She had told him so herself not an hour ago, and he had, indeed, remembered.

  It was too much. Defeat shrouded her in utter misery. She had tried to fight for the future she wanted and been betrayed by her own heart, and as Rafe bent his head to kiss her again the first hot tears seeped from the corners of her eyes and ran down to the pillow.

  “You’re mine,” he whispered against her trembling mouth. “Mine! Say it!”

  But she couldn’t respond to the urgent command in his voice. She felt his mouth touch the wetness on her cheek, felt him lift his head, and she tensed, turning her face away and squeezing her eyes shut. But the silent tears were coming too fast to be hidden, and she knew he could feel the tremors shaking her body.

  He went still for the space of a heartbeat, then caught her chin in his hand and swiftly brought her face around to his again.

  “Nell? Oh, God, sweetheart, don’t…”

  Taking her face between his hands, he began pressing frantic little kisses to her eyes as though trying to stop the flow. “Don’t cry, darling. I didn’t mean…I only wanted to show you that we belong together. I can’t let you go. Anything else you want, I’ll do, but not that. Not that!”

  Somewhere through the jagged edges of pain the anguished sound of his voice reached her, but she still couldn’t speak. Her throat was too tight. He was kissing her too desperately—her eyes, her mouth, her cheeks. Words of need, of love, poured over her as if he’d wanted to say them forever.

  “I know you don’t love me yet, but you will. You will. I’ll make sure of it. Oh, God, don’t cry any more. My darling, my heart. I love you…love you…”

  His mouth, hard and warm, salty with the taste of her tears, covered hers, and with a wrenching sob she flung her arms around his neck and started kissing him back until she couldn’t breathe for the emotions filling her heart. The transition from despair to shock to tremulous hope was too rapid. She wrenched her mouth free, buried her face against his shoulder, and wept uncontrollably.

  The storm didn’t last long. Rafe held her against him as if he was afraid she would be torn from his arms at any minute. He murmured to her over and over until finally she was calm.

  “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, but you said we didn’t have to marry. I knew I couldn’t force you, and I panicked.”

  Nell tried to find her voi
ce. “You? Panic?” was all she could manage in a husky croak.

  He tipped her face up to his, his fingers threading through her hair and brushing tear-drenched tendrils aside.

  “Nell, look at me.”

  Hesitant, still afraid to believe Rafe loved her, she raised her eyes to his face. And then she believed. The depth of emotion shimmering in his eyes made her heart stand still.

  Aye, shimmering, she thought in wonder. This man who had been forced to survive the stews of London at a horrifyingly young age, who had grown into a warrior as ruthless as he was honorable, was showing her a vulnerability she had never guessed at.

  “I can’t lose you,” he said urgently. “You mean too much to me. You’re the one woman I didn’t think existed. The other half of myself. My heart.”

  At the deep note of tenderness in his voice fresh tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them back, smiling shakily up at him, and he bent to kiss her, his possession of her mouth slow and gentle and deep.

  “My little princess,” he murmured minutes later. “How could you doubt after the time we’ve spent together? Don’t you know how alike we are?”

  “I’ve known that for days,” she whispered, knowing her heart was mirrored in her eyes for him to see. “Oh, Rafe, I love you so. Why do you think I agreed to marry you? Why do you think I let you…yesterday…”

  She broke off, blushing rosily when his hard mouth curved in a smile as wicked as it was tender.

  “Let me? My innocent little darling, you didn’t let me make love to you yesterday. I didn’t give you a chance to say yea or nay. You were practically in shock, and as for me—” His smile turned rueful. “An entire army of villainous cousins wouldn’t have stopped me. I’d just seen you risk your life to help me, and all I could think of was making you mine in every way possible.”

  “You would have stopped,” she said with absolute certainty. “If I had truly wished it.”