Virginia Henley

by The Raven

  When daylight arrived, Roger had not yet closed his eyes. He had passed one of the worst nights of his life. Two days in the saddle usually guaranteed a good night’s rest, but apart from Roseanna he was like a dog separated from its meat. The entire night, desire had ridden him with cruel spurs. He was more than ready for a confrontation.

  He pulled on dark hose and boots and a white linen shirt and walked a direct path to Roseanna’s room. What he saw arrested his attention immediately. His wife, clad in a silk nightrail, romped around the bed with Becky and the puppy until it was in shambles.

  His face softened as he watched his beautiful wife playing with the child. He thought he’d never seen a lovelier picture. Roseanna lay on her back and was lifting Becky above her at arm’s length. She said, laughing, “I want a little girl just like you.”

  “I want a son,” Roger interjected. They both became aware of his tall, dark figure leaning against the door-jamb.

  “Come and play with us, Uncle Roger,” begged Becky. Roseanna was never more surprised in her life when he dove onto the bed and teased, “How’s my old ticklebones this morning?”

  The child squealed with delight, and the little dog barked excitedly. Becky was almost helpless with laughter and giggled, “Don’t tickle the puppy. It’ll pee on the bed!”

  “What?” he cried in mock outrage. “Haven’t you taken the little beast outside to pee yet?” He lifted Becky from the bed and set her on her feet. “Hurry, take it out,” he urged

  “Ask Alice to take you,” called Roseanna after the disappearing child. She was kneeling on the bed, flushed a delicate pink from her exertions. Roger lay back across the bed and looked up at her.

  “I thought you disliked children—or is it only my children you are averse to?” she asked, her mouth pouting with the hurt she felt.

  Roger’s blood began to pound and surge. His senses were filled with her. The fragrance of her warm woman’s body assaulted his nostrils; his eyes devoured her breasts, which swelled from the silken nightgown. Her pouting mouth filled his mind with wildly erotic images of the uses to which he could put it.

  He gripped her shoulders and pulled her above him. “Every single time I’ve made love to you, I’ve had to seduce you. Must it always be so?” he demanded hoarsely. His lust was so hot for her, it blotted out all thoughts. Swiftly he tumbled her to the bed and held her beneath him. Her soft breasts pressed into his hard chest, and her nightgown was twisted around her waist exposing her long, slim legs.

  She struggled frantically to free herself, but his strength was unyielding. His eyes gleamed triumphantly before his mouth swooped to hers. His senses reeled with the feel of her soft, exciting, provocative mouth, and he explored it thoroughly.

  Roseanna’s struggles increased. But her body wanted to cling to him and let him have his way with her. Damn him, not only did she have to fight him, but now she had to fight herself.

  Suddenly Becky was on the bed again, wanting to join in the game and climbing onto Roger’s back. Alice stood watching as if struck dumb. Slowly, he came to his senses and released his iron grip on Roseanna. He sat back, panting from the intimate encounter. Roseanna arose shakily and said, “Excuse me, my lord. I’m going for my bath.” She retreated into the adjoining bathroom with all possible speed. Alice scurried after her.

  The child looked at Roger with wide eyes. “Why are you angry, Uncle Roger?”

  “I’m not angry, sweetheart. ’Tis just a game we are playing. Roseanna runs from me so that I will chase her.”

  In the bathroom Roseanna handed her nightgown to Alice. She was about to step into the bath when Becky’s voice cried excitedly to her, “Run quick, Roseanna! Uncle Roger is coming to catch you! Run, run!”

  Roseanna heard and obeyed. She fled from the room and ran naked along the hallway. Roger shot after her in full pursuit. She came to the stairway and descended quickly, knowing it was her only escape. He didn’t catch her until she reached the second floor, where he picked her up. Half a dozen servants looked on openmouthed.

  She struggled like a wildcat. Her soft body rubbed against his as she twisted and turned. Like a man intoxicated, he took her mouth and drank from it. Slowly he mounted the stairs; his mouth was fused to hers, and he reveled in the feel of her body as her breasts brushed warmly against his naked chest where his shirt hung open. From the second floor up to the third and then to the fourth, he held her thrashing thighs with one strong arm. Her buttocks rubbing against his hard groin made him dizzy with pure sensual pleasure.

  In spite of herself, Roseanna found it exciting to be carried in his strong arms, his hard body holding her captive. His kisses had a drugging effect on her at first; then, as he continued kissing her hungrily, taking her inexorably up to his bed, his mouth never leaving hers, her coldness toward him melted forever. Her fingers curled possessively into his dark hair, and she pressed his head closer to hers as her mouth accepted his with a soft moan. Then he was lifting her onto the high bed.

  His blood sang joyfully that she was responding to him. They both gave themselves up to the dark magic world they created whenever they came together. He eased his big body between her thighs and slipped his hands beneath her hips to lift her to him; then with stunning intensity her hot body opened to him, stretching to take the full, hard length of him. His hands held her prisoner while he drove deeply into her silken softness; his mouth filled hers in the same relentless rhythm as his body filled hers. She responded wildly, wantonly, and arched her body to meet his every thrust, finally reaching her peak and sobbing softly with the release it brought. Roger tightened his hold, and his movements became almost violent as he too took his shuddering release.

  Time stood still. She knew irrevocably that she had fallen in love with her husband and that it was the greatest love she would ever know.

  He whispered, “Roseanna, I love you more than life. I must explain my reaction to you about the baby. My own darling, childbirth terrifies me.”

  With sudden clarity she saw that he had lost his first wife in childbirth and that he feared the same thing might happen again.

  He continued low, “I long for a son, but I’d give up the hope of having one forever rather than risk your life.”

  “Roger, women have children every day. There’s nothing to it.” She laughed shakily. My God, was this herself speaking these comforting lies? Hadn’t she just watched the Queen go through hell to produce a son? All that blood splurging from her! Towels had been stuffed between her legs, and she’d vomited into her hair. Childbirth had turned the pretty, fastidious woman into a revolting creature.

  She pulled his head down to her breast and said calmly, “I think I’m woman enough to give you a son.”

  The next two weeks were the happiest Roger had ever known. Roseanna had fallen in love with the house as well as its owner. Roger experienced a deep contentment as his wife lavished her love upon Ravenspur. It was a sweet time for Roseanna, too, although she dreaded the time when Roger would leave for Wales. She would have to keep herself busy while he was gone to make the time pass more quickly. She would again be able to devote time to the horses, she would furbish the nursery, and if she got too lonely, she would visit Castlemaine.

  “I will leave you half a dozen men-at-arms. I wish you would give me your promise not to travel any distance without them, Roseanna.”

  She smiled her secret smile for him. “No orders, my lord?”

  He grinned. “I know better than to give you orders, my beauty. Shall I leave Kelly with you?”

  Roseanna recoiled. “No, no! I detest the man!”

  Roger was concerned, “Why, sweetheart?”

  She did not tell him of the captain’s advances to her but said honestly, “My love, because of his resemblance to you, I suspect he was involved in your wife’s murder.”

  Roger frowned. “I’m sure you’re wrong, Roseanna.”

  She reached up and kissed him quickly. “Just promise me that you will watch your back. Never trust hi
m.”

  Roger had had the magnificent arctic fox furs made into a cloak for Roseanna. He gave it to her early on the morning they rode out together to familiarize her with the countryside. He wrapped her in the fur, pulled the soft hood up around her face, and kissed her with lingering expertise.

  “Oh, Roger, it’s beautiful!” she cried, rushing to the mirror and admiring her appearance with the greatest delight. She was thrilled with the gift and, womanlike, buried her face in the luxurious softness. She lightly blew on the fur to admire its depth and thickness. “They are nicer than the Queen’s! The white fur flatters me outrageously—I’ll never stop admiring myself.”

  “It’s to keep you warm when you ride out like a mad thing in inclement weather.” From behind, he slipped his arms around her, and his seeking fingers slipped under the fur. As long as he held her thus, every sensitive part of her body was open to his hands; against her buttocks rose the insistent demand of his body.

  She glanced up at him provocatively. “If you don’t stop this moment, we shall find ourselves back in bed, our ride forgotten.”

  “We could have a different sort of ride,” he said wickedly.

  “Tonight,” she promised him as she removed his hands from her breasts.

  They had ridden over the park and lands of Ravenspur before, but today he was taking her farther afield. They rode to the seacoast, and he showed her the part of his fleet that was anchored on the east coast. She was deeply touched when she saw one ship riding at anchor with the name Roseanna emblazoned on it. Then they rode down the coast toward the The Wash, which was also known as The Fens.

  “Never ride into The Fens. It looks innocent enough today, but it is treacherous in the extreme. Anyone who ventures in there needs an experienced Fenman for guide, one who has been born and bred on these bogs and marshes.”

  Roseanna shuddered as if she were experiencing a premonition. She was glad when they rode back toward Ravenspur and left the eerie, waterlogged salt lands behind.

  Before Roger and his men left for Wales, he organized a large hunt. It served a twofold purpose: it provided Ravenspur with enough game and venison for the next couple of months, and it made for a large celebration so that the leave-taking would not be too solemn. Before the party Mr. Burke and Kate Kendall had another set-to that resulted in Kate’s grumbling to Roseanna and Mr. Burke’s bending the master’s ear with his complaints.

  Roger grinned at his faithful servant. “My God, man, the way you two carry on, I suspect you have designs on the woman.”

  Mr. Burke swore, “I wouldn’t swive her with another man’s prick! I just want it made plain to the woman that my authority exceeds hers at Ravenspur once you are gone, milord.”

  “For God’s sake, man, that goes without saying. Women and horses are alike. You have to gentle them, but use a damned firm hand.”

  Roseanna looked more splendid than ever. She wore a scarlet gown that was slashed at the sleeves to reveal cloth of silver and that was fastened at the neckline with silver ribbons. Her hair was decorated with a silver moon and stars, and she wore cosmetics on lips and eyes, as they did at Court. She had bullied Rebecca from her bed and now watched with satisfaction as Tristan danced often with his pretty young wife. She was determined that the evening would be gay and leave the men with happy thoughts of home until they could return. She had ordered a lavish spread of food, and Roger saw to it that the ale and wine flowed freely.

  The party ended at midnight, for the men would be off at first light. As Roger and Roseanna sought their bedchamber, they knew their first celebration at Ravenspur had been a resounding success. As she undressed, he looked as if he would devour her, a wolf bringing down a white doe. He had a power over her that set her to shivering. Tonight she would unleash the devil in him! She licked her lips, her appetite whetted.

  Roseanna joined in Roger’s foreplay until he took her fiercely. When he was inside her, they both ached to delay the inevitable end. She moaned and bit at him and drew him deeper and deeper into herself. He brought her to climax after climax, and during them he lay absolutely still to feel the heart of her inner trembling. He kissed her softening breasts and caressed the satin swell of her stomach. “Take care of our child. I promise to be home long before you are due.”

  “Oh, my love, I’m not due until July. Surely there’s no possibility you’ll be gone six months?”

  “Hush now. Haven’t I promised to be here?” He crushed her in his arms to quell his fear and tucked her head beneath his chin. As they lay touching, all three heartbeats intermingled.

  Roger had been gone a month when Roseanna received an urgent message from her mother that read:

  Roseanna, I have held off sending you distressing news, but I dare not wait longer. Neville has fallen ill, and his condition worsens each day. He is asking for you, and I hope a visit from you will improve him.

  All my dearest love, Joanna.

  Roseanna handed the letter to Kate and Alice and told them to ready everything immediately for a prolonged visit to Castlemaine. She chose two men-at-arms for their escort and told them to come straight back to Ravenspur.

  Roseanna made the journey of twenty miles that same day. When Joanna took her up to her father’s bedchamber, she was shocked to see his deteriorated condition.

  Kate took over his nursing, and Joanna took her daughter into her workshop, where they could talk in private. “My God, Mother, how long has he been like

  “For some time now. I’ve nearly gone mad trying to discover what ails him. I’ve had a terrible dispute with his physician because all the fool did was bleed him, and he’s feeble enough.”

  “His color is alarming, and so is the sweating and shaking,” said Roseanna in a frightened voice.

  “I’ve tried everything. He can keep nothing in his stomach. We nurse him day and night—he is never left alone. I stay with him all day and Jeffrey stays with him at night.”

  Roseanna was surprised. “Is Jeffrey here?”

  Joanna nodded. “He stepped right into your father’s shoes. He’s taken full responsibility for your father’s men, and he sits up half the night. I don’t know how I’d manage without him.”

  Roseanna was disturbed. She suspected that Jeffrey had been involved in the treason against the King. His service had been with George, and he was therefore a Warwick man; but Neville and his men-at-arms had always fought in the King’s service. She said nothing about her suspicions to Joanna, for her mother was clearly distressed enough. “I will sit with Father tonight. It will give Jeffrey a respite.”

  When her brother came up to his father’s sickroom after the evening meal, he greeted Roseanna sweetly. But when she arose from the bedside chair and revealed her condition, he said in an accusing voice, “You are breeding!”

  She observed his face carefully and said quietly, “Yes, Jeffrey. You will soon be an uncle.”

  He bit his lip and said, “You cannot sit up all night in your condition. I will stay with Father.”

  “No,” she said with quiet firmness. “I shall stay with him tonight.”

  “We’ve managed without you so far,” he pointed out.

  As she watched him, she realized that he hated her. She cast about in her memories of the past for a reason; it was clearly deeper than mere sibling rivalry. “Father has been asking for me, so I’ll stay with him tonight,” she repeated firmly.

  “Suit yourself, princess,” he said with venom, and left the room quickly as if he could no longer stand the sight of her.

  So that’s it! He knows I’m the King’s child, and he hates me for it, she thought sadly.

  In the middle of the night Neville roused and whispered, “Roseanna, sweet Roseanna.” In the morning, though he was no better, he was at least no worse. Joanna took over from her, and Roseanna went to the stables to stretch her legs.

  On entering, she was greeted by the familiar whicker of Zeus. “Oh, my beauty, how I have missed you!” crooned Roseanna, and the black stallion almost dance
d in his excitement. So, she thought, Sir Bryan kept his word and brought Zeus to Castlemaine. I wonder if he is still here. The thought was disquieting.

  Sir Bryan was indeed at Castlemaine. He was watching her from a concealed vantage point, but he avoided her. In the afternoon Kate again took over the sickroom, and Joanna and her daughter went for a walk to get some fresh air. Roseanna hesitated, then plunged in. “Mother, is Sir Bryan here?”

  Joanna looked guilty. “Roseanna, he has been a great comfort to me while your father has been ill. I can see now what your attraction to him was all about.”

  Roseanna was alarmed. “Mother! He’s not your lover?”

  “No, no—at least, not quite, not yet. Oh, Roseanna, I’ve had no one to turn to.”

  Roseanna took her mother’s hand. “Don’t put your trust in him. Ravenspur is convinced that he was involved in the plot to imprison the King. My husband had him locked in a cell, and I freed him because I feared Ravenspur was jealous of him. I feared for his life. But I, too, am now convinced that he is guilty of treason.”

  “If I thought he had planned to harm Ned, I wouldn’t have him here! Roseanna, he is your brother’s dearest friend!”

  “Mother, I know. I suspect Jeffrey was involved in it, too.”

  “How dare you make such an accusation about my son!” she flared.

  “Mother, only think for a moment. They took their service with George.”

  Joanna was adamant. “George is Edward’s brother. I don’t believe he’d be disloyal to the King. ’Tis that devil Warwick! There is nothing to implicate poor George in this. My own son could not be disloyal to the King. Ned is and always will be my dearest love!”