Jo Beverley - [Malloren 01]

by My Lady Notorious

  He pulled out his watch. “By my reckoning, twenty minutes.”

  Chastity stared at him. “So little?”

  “How long do you think these things take?” he teased. “Of course we’ll have many nights of long, languorous loving, but think of all the merry twenty minutes ahead of us. Or even less.” She saw the change in his expression and her nerves fired a warning.

  He flicked open his watch again, then pulled her over to the bed. He pushed her back. Before she had time to react, he undid his breeches, lifted her skirts, and entered her.

  Her body leaped with shock and pleasure. “Cyn!”

  “Delicious sin,” he said, eyes alight with mischief. He worked slowly in her, his thumbs rubbing her nipples. Then one hand moved low between their bodies to circle. Chastity gasped and closed her eyes as the fever took her. Dimly, she heard her own cries, and his gasp.

  Then he set her on her unsteady feet again and flipped open his watch. “Four minutes. You see, the opportunities are endless.”

  She put a hand on his arm to steady herself. “You’re mad.”

  “Mad for you, O, cream-pot of my life.” He draped her riding cloak around her shoulders. “En avant.”

  Chastity was on her way downstairs before she had properly collected her wits.

  He commanded their horses and paid the reckoning. Chastity tried to ignore the curious stares of the inn servants, a great many of whom seemed to find an excuse to pass through the hall.

  She saw a few more guineas disappear into the innkeeper’s pocket. “For your cooperation,” said Cyn, adding pleasantly, “Remember that I look coldly on those who displease me.” He turned to offer Chastity his hand, then turned back. “By the way, my name is Malloren.” It was delivered with an air worthy of Rothgar himself, and Chastity saw the innkeeper’s eyes widen.

  As they walked out she asked, “Does the name Malloren engender fear the length and breadth of the country?”

  “I doubt it, but here it does.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re within ten miles of Rothgar Abbey.” He looked at the horse and standard saddle. “Are you sure you can manage?”

  It was a time for honesty and she had nothing left to hide. “I can ride, but I’m not sure how far.” She used the mounting block to ease into the saddle, then arranged her skirts.

  “You don’t have far to go. I’m taking you to Rothgar.”

  “What? We don’t have time for detours, Cyn, and why go to Rothgar? You’ve been avoiding him for days.”

  “I must confess,” he said as he mounted, “I hope he’s not there. I meant Rothgar Abbey. You’ll be safe there. I don’t need you to get the license, and you’ll slow me down.”

  Put like that, how could she object? All the same, she shivered at the thought of being plunged into his family, not just as the Notorious Chastity Ware, but now, as Cyn’s mistress. It would surely be as obvious as if she wore a brand.

  Her anxiety was increased when she realized that Cyn too was unhappy about the plan. As they walked the horses down the village street, tension positively radiated from him. “You don’t have to take me to your home. You could leave me here.”

  “No. You’ll be safe at Rothgar.” He had that air of a man who has made up his mind. Chastity sighed and concentrated on steering through a flock of geese.

  When they had clear road again, she remarked, “If you are willing to take me to Rothgar, you could have taken Verity there.”

  “And probably should have.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  He flashed her a guarded look. She saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. “Because it would have spoiled my fun, damn it!”

  Chastity bit her lip to keep from smiling. The admission had cost him a great deal. “Why spoil the fun now?” she said lightly. “Leave me here.”

  He stopped his horse and took her hand. “No, Chastity. The time for foolishness is over.”

  “I’ve come to like foolishness.” That teasing tone didn’t lighten his attitude at all. “Please, Cyn,” she said seriously. “I don’t think I can bear any more reality just now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Was the man stupid? “I’m Chastity Ware, and your whore. I can’t go to your family.”

  He pulled her head around to face him. “You are Chastity Ware, and my future wife. If my family doesn’t accept you with open arms, I’ll cut myself off from them forever.”

  “Cyn, no!”

  “Ride,” he snapped, and slapped her mount’s rump to get it on its way. Chastity muttered a few choice opinions of men, but he ignored her.

  She found she could ride at this steady pace. The bulk of her skirts and a time of healing had erased most of the pain. Nothing could erase her dread of what was to come, however. She searched for ways to prevent this new disaster—that she cause Cyn to break with his family.

  All too soon, he turned toward a gate in a hedge and opened it. Chastity followed him through with foreboding, though it led only into a field.

  “Home ground,” he said, confirming her fears. “But there’s a few miles yet to go. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. But Cyn,” she said before he could speed up again, “couldn’t you leave me in a cottage, or such?”

  “No,” he said abruptly, then rode off at a canter.

  Chastity held her horse in and waited. He reined in and wheeled back, mouth set, tight as a bow. “If necessary, I’ll truss you up and carry you, Chastity. That will be a pretty picture.”

  In this mood, he’d do it too.

  “Cyn, I’ll come, but only on one condition.”

  “What?”

  “That you promise not to blame your family for what happens.”

  “Why are you so sure they’ll reject you? By the devil, we’re none of us of unspotted purity—except possibly my sister.”

  “I’m sure your sister is virtuous. If she’s at home, she’ll have to turn her back on me. To do otherwise would be to sink herself as low.”

  “Devil take it, will you stop talking like that!”

  “It’s the truth, and you can’t change it!”

  “I can do what I damn well please! If I present you to my family as a virtuous lady, they had better treat you as such.”

  “Virtuous! I’m your mistress!”

  He closed his eyes briefly. “I should never have touched you, should I? I shouldn’t have used you as I did this morning, even in fun. I’ve eroded your self-respect.”

  “Cyn, no!”

  He looked down at his hands on the reins, his mouth bitter. “Before that night in Rood House, no matter what the world said, you knew you were pure. That gave you the strength I admired from the first. I’ve taken it from you.”

  “Are you saying I’m weak now?” She made it a challenge, hoping to jerk him out of his bitterness, but she knew in a way his words were true.

  He met her eyes. “Weaker.”

  “Thank you,” she said flatly.

  “It’s the truth. I’ve taken your honor.”

  “You didn’t take anything. I gave it, freely and with joy.”

  “But I should have waited until we were wed.”

  “That would be to wait forever.”

  “Not at all,” he said calmly. “I intend to bring back a license for us as well as Verity.”

  “You can’t,” Chastity pointed out, not without relish. “I’m under age, and Father will never, ever consent.”

  His horse shifted under a sudden movement. “Plague take it, I’d forgotten that. We’ll find a way.” He shrugged. “If not, we’ll wait until you’re of age. When will that be?”

  “A year next April.”

  “A wait,” he remarked, “but not forever. You’ll spend the time with my family.”

  “Oh, Cyn!” she protested. “Now, I’m not just to be presented to them, I’m to make my home with them?”

  “Yes.” He touched her hand. “Chastity, I know your experiences make it hard, but I’d like you to trust me, just t
his once.”

  “I trust you, but . . .”

  “My family will not reject you. I am sure of it.”

  “Not even your sister?”

  “Not even Elf. She’ll be startled, and suspect you’re not good enough for me. But she’d suspect that of any woman in the land.”

  “And Rothgar?”

  “The same.”

  Chastity didn’t believe a word of it. “Then why are you geared for battle?”

  His eyes widened in surprise, but then he laughed. “I told you a secret once—that all soldiers are afraid before battle. I’m not wound up for a fight, love, I’m just afraid.”

  “Of what?”

  He shrugged uneasily. “Perhaps afraid isn’t quite the right word . . . It’s a natural disinclination to back down. I once told Rothgar to his face that I’d never accept anything from him, that I’d make my way in life on my own merits. Now I’m going to have to back down.”

  It was said simply, but she knew from the way he had always been on edge about his brother that this wasn’t easy for him. That it was a great sign of love. “To ask him to receive me?” she asked gently.

  “No,” he said in surprise. “I take that for granted. But the world of Society is not my world. If we’re to disentangle your situation, we’ll need his help.”

  “What? Cyn, even Rothgar can’t whiten my sepulcher.”

  A familiar grin lit his face. “But he’s a Malloren. Like me, he loves nothing so much as a challenge. Come on.”

  Still she held back. “You didn’t promise. If your family won’t accept me, you must not blame them.”

  He shook his head. “Very well, I promise, but it won’t be necessary. Trust me.”

  Chapter 17

  They came at the house from the side and rode directly to the stables. Rothgar Abbey was a solid Elizabethan house from this angle, but Chastity could see it had a more modern Palladian façade. The grounds too were a mix, with formal knot-gardens and topiary close to the house, and rolling parkland beyond. Peacocks stalked among the formal gardens, while deer grazed the meadows, discreetly kept from the gardens by a sunken ha-ha.

  An air of order and prosperity glowed about the Abbey, making it very like her own home. It was not what she had expected of the home of the man they called the Dark Marquess.

  They left the horses with a startled groom, and Cyn led her toward a side door. He was visibly tense, and Chastity was in a fine state of nerves. She wished she didn’t have to do this, but if she did, she wished desperately that she had something better to wear than a mixture of whore’s and servant’s garments.

  He seemed to sense her unhappiness and stopped to kiss her. “Trust me, Chastity.”

  What could she say to that? She bolstered her fragile self-confidence with the thought that at least she had hair.

  The side door led into a plain corridor between storage rooms, and they progressed some way before meeting anyone. Then a maid swung around a corner, jerking to a startled halt. She bobbed a curtsy. “Welcome home, milord,” she said, and flattened out of their way. Even in this unexpected situation, she showed her training and allowed only the slightest flicker of her eyes toward Chastity.

  “Thank you,” said Cyn. “Who’s here?”

  “All the family, milord.”

  At his nod, the maid hurried off.

  That meant his sister, Chastity thought, who would be horrified to be in the presence of Chastity Ware. That meant Rothgar, who—heaven help her—might recognize the whore at Rood House. Chastity’s nerve broke.

  “Oh, Cyn,” she whispered. “You don’t have to do this. It will put them in an impossible situation.” She seized her courage. “You don’t need Rothgar’s help. I’ll be your mistress, and my reputation won’t matter a fig.”

  He turned sharply. “Your reputation matters to you, and you will not be my mistress.” He looked steadily into her eyes. “In fact, I give you my word now, Chastity. I will not bed you again until you are my wife.” Before she could think what to say, he grasped her wrist. “Come.”

  It was walk or be dragged.

  They emerged suddenly into a magnificent gilt-and-marble hall. Two liveried footmen stood there, and even these well-trained individuals stared at their sudden appearance.

  “The marquess?” Cyn asked.

  “In the Tapestry Room, milord,” said one footman, and hurried forward to open a door.

  Two people were in the small, tapestry-hung room—a red-haired woman in filmy white silk sat on a chaise, and the Marquess of Rothgar stood by the fireplace. They both turned at the opening of the door.

  “Cyn!” the woman cried, and rose to run forward. “What a wretch you are to give us such a fright!”

  Cyn released Chastity to swing his sister into a hug. Anyone in the world could tell they were sister and brother, and now Chastity remembered they were twins. The resemblance was not very close, however, for Lady Elf—whom she’d met once in London—had red hair and blue eyes.

  Cyn let go of his sister and took Chastity’s hand. “Elf, this is Lady Chastity Ware. I’ve brought her to stay for a while. Chastity, this is my sister, Lady Elfled. In the family we call her Elf. I never explained our strange names, did I? Our father had a positive passion for things Anglo-Saxon. He managed to prove to his satisfaction, at least, that our bloodline contains little Norman contamination. So he named us all after Anglo-Saxon heroes and heroines.”

  An unkind critic would have said Cyn was babbling, and putting off the moment of truth.

  Chastity had seen his sister’s eyes widen at her name and flick to her oldest brother, but Lady Elf made a good recover. “Elfled was the Lady of the Mercians,” she said. “A mighty character, and virtual ruler of England for many years. Cynric was merely a tolerable minor king. Rothgar has the burden of being called Beowulf. He, of course, was a mythic hero.”

  With this, she avoided actually welcoming Chastity and neatly turned all their attention to Rothgar, who had not come forward, but stood waiting by the fire. Chastity swallowed. Was this a preliminary to rejection? And what would Cyn do then?

  Chastity’s eyes met Rothgar’s across the room. He was studying her, his expression completely unreadable.

  They were all moving toward Rothgar. Beowulf. She’d never considered what his Christian name might be. She wasn’t sure it suited him, though Wolf would. She realized that, mentally at least, she too was babbling.

  He was in a plain brown country coat and buckskin breeches, but not one whit less impressive than he had been in brocade and lace.

  “Rothgar,” said Cyn quite steadily, “I believe you have met Lady Chastity. I have brought her to stay, since she is to be my wife.”

  Lady Elfled gasped. Chastity forced herself to keep her chin up and meet Rothgar’s cool gray eyes as she waited for the explosion. It did not come. He bowed. “Then we are honored to have you here, Lady Chastity. Won’t you be seated? Unless you would prefer that Elf show you directly to your room?”

  Was that a hint that she should leave him and Cyn alone to fight? Chastity sat firmly on a chaise.

  “Perhaps you would like some tea, Lady Chastity,” said Elfled nervously. “Or some other kind of refreshment.”

  “No, thank you.” Chastity knew she should pay more attention to Cyn’s sister, but all her faculties were fixed on Rothgar and Cyn.

  “We are pleased to see you home,” the marquess said to his brother. “And well?”

  “Perfectly well, thank you.”

  “And—forgive me for mentioning it—my coach? There was some talk of highwaymen . . . ?”

  “A mere jape. The coach, and Hoskins, are in reasonable order in Winchester.”

  “Ah, you relieve my mind. Winchester,” he mused. “A sudden interest in antiquities?”

  “A sudden avoidance of villains,” said Cyn bluntly. “I’ve been adventuring. In fact, the adventure isn’t over and I must be on my way. I just need your word that you will treat Chastity with the respect due to my future
wife, and that under no circumstances will you give her over to her father.”

  Rothgar glanced cryptically at Chastity. “Walgrave? You have it. There’s no love lost between us.”

  “And the first part?” Cyn persisted.

  “My dear boy,” said Rothgar gently, “as a guest in my house, she is due all respect, regardless of her future.”

  It was a neat side-step, and Chastity saw Cyn’s mouth tighten in recognition. It contained the necessary promise, however. Cyn turned to Chastity. “You’ll be safe here. I’ll be back as soon as I can, perhaps even today.” He fixed her with a look. “Promise me you won’t leave, for any reason.”

  She didn’t want to be abandoned here, wished she could once again ask to go with him. “How can I promise not to leave? What if the house burns down?”

  “Don’t be facetious.”

  “That from you?” she exclaimed. “Am I allowed to walk in the gardens, even?”

  “Only under escort.”

  “Cyn, really—”

  He leaned forward, caging her on the chaise. “Promise me,” he said.

  She saw he was in deadly earnest. “Very well. Now, will you please go and get Verity’s license.”

  She saw the flicker pass over Cyn’s face and bit her lip. He’d not wanted to mention Verity.

  “Ah,” said Rothgar, “so you have a finger in that pie. I’m pleased to hear Lady Verity and her child are well. And, perhaps, in Winchester?”

  “No,” said Cyn coolly. “I hope that by now they are in Long Knotwell awaiting a marriage license.”

  Rothgar accepted it without a blink. “Do you need any help acquiring it?”

  “No, thank you.” But Cyn hesitated, bracing himself.

  Chastity thought the atmosphere could be cut with a knife. This was no time to be asking Rothgar’s help in her lost cause. She rose to her feet. “Cyn, go, please. Once Verity is safe, there will be time for other things.”

  He grasped her shoulders and pulled her to him for a quick, heated, and most improper kiss. Chastity was left flustered and quite unable to meet her host’s eyes.