Liana did as she was bid. “I have come to see you before, but you weren’t here. Rogan has gone to Bevan Castle.” Once again, there was the feeling of having known this woman forever.
The woman separated strands of scarlet silk. “Yes, and you have a wager with him. He’s to be your slave for a day?”
Liana smiled and walked toward the woman, looking over her shoulder at the fabric stretched on the frame. It was a tapestry-worked, almost-complete picture of a slim blonde lady with her hand on the head of a unicorn.
“She could be you,” the Lady replied, smiling. “What do you have planned for your day with Rogan?”
Liana smiled dreamily. “A long walk in the woods, perhaps. A day spent alone. No brothers, no castle duties, no knights, just the two of us. I want him to…to give me his full attention.” When the Lady didn’t reply, Liana looked at her and saw the smile was gone. “You don’t approve.”
“It’s not for me to say,” she said softly. “But then I believe he and Jeanne used to take walks together.”
“Jeanne?”
“Jeanne Howard.”
“Howard!” Liana said, gasping. “The same Howards who are the sworn enemies of the Peregrines? I have heard little else since I was married—about how the Howards stole the Peregrine lands, killed the Peregrines, starved the Peregrines. Are you saying that Rogan once courted a Howard?”
“Rogan was once married to Jeanne before she was a Howard.”
Liana sat down on a window seat, the sun warm on her back. “Tell me all,” she whispered.
“Rogan was married to Jeanne Randel when he was only sixteen and she was fifteen. His parents and his brother William had been starved at Bevan the year before and the three oldest Peregrine sons were busy waging war on the Howards and so were too busy to marry themselves. They decided Rogan should marry, get a girl’s dowry, and give them a few sons to grow to help them fight. Rogan fought against the marriage, but his brothers persuaded him.”
The Lady turned to look at Liana. “Rogan has known only hardship and pain in his life. Not all the scars on his body are from battles. His brothers and father put their share on him, too.”
“So they ‘persuaded’ Rogan to marry?” Liana said softly.
“Yes, but he wasn’t reluctant after he saw her. She was a pretty little thing, so quiet and soft-spoken. Her mother had died when she was quite young and as a ward of the king she was raised by nuns in a convent. Perhaps going from a convent to marrying a Peregrine was not the easiest thing a child ever did.”
The Lady looked at Liana, but Liana did not respond. This morning she’d discovered a dozen illegitimate children of her husband’s and this evening she’d discovered he’d had another wife.
The Lady continued. “I think Rogan began to fall in love with her. He’d never had any softness in his life and I think Jeanne’s gentleness fascinated him. I remember once they came back from a walk and they both had flowers in their hair.”
Liana looked away, not wanting the hurt on her face to be seen. He gave his first wife flowers and he couldn’t remember the name of his second wife.
“They were married for about four months when the Howards took Jeanne. She and Rogan were alone in the woods. Rowland had told Rogan not to go out alone, but Rogan thought he was immortal, that when he was with Jeanne, nothing could harm him. I believe they’d been swimming and…”—the Lady looked at Liana’s stricken face—“…and napping when Oliver Howard’s men set upon them and took her. Rogan couldn’t get to his sword, but he managed to pull two Howards off their horses. He strangled one of them before the others could pull him away. I’m afraid that one of the Peregrines had just killed Oliver’s younger brother and Oliver was in a vile mood. He had his men hold Rogan while he shot three arrows into him, not to kill him but to show Oliver’s power. Then Oliver and his men rode away with Jeanne.”
Liana stared at the woman, imagining the awful scene. “And what did Rogan do?” she whispered.
“Walked back to the castle,” the Lady said. “Four miles, with three dripping wounds, he walked back to his brothers. He went with them the next day when they attacked the Howards. He rode with them and fought with them, until, on the third day, he fell off his horse, burning with fever. When he was sensible again, it was nearly two weeks later and his brothers Basil and James were dead.”
“He said he killed his brothers,” Liana said softly.
“Rogan has always taken his responsibilities very seriously. He and Rowland and young Severn fought the Howards for over a year. The Peregrines did not have the strength or the money to properly attack the Howard castle and it is a vast, strong place, so they fought however they could, stealing Howard supplies, burning the peasants’ houses, poisoning what water they could reach. It was a bloody year. And then…” the Lady trailed off.
“And then what?” Liana encouraged.
“And then Jeanne returned to Rogan.”
Liana waited, but the Lady said no more. Her needle flew lightning-fast in and out of the tapestry silk. “What happened when Jeanne returned?”
“She was six months’ pregnant with Oliver Howard’s child and very much in love with him. She came to Rogan to beg him to give her an annulment so she could marry Oliver.”
“That poor boy,” Liana said at last. “How could she do that to him? Or did Oliver Howard force her to come to him?”
“No one had forced Jeanne. She loved Oliver, and he, her. In fact, Oliver had forbidden her to go to Rogan. Oliver planned to kill the husband of the woman he loved. I think Jeanne must have felt something for Rogan because I think her visit saved his life. Rogan came home after he saw Jeanne, and while Rogan petitioned for the annulment, the Peregrines and the Howards did not war with each other.’
Liana stood and walked to the far side of the room. She was silent for quite some time. At last she turned back to look at the Lady. “So Rogan and Jeanne used to walk in the woods together, did they? Then I shall plan a celebration. We will dance. I will have singers and acrobats and—”
“As you did at your wedding?”
Liana stopped talking and remembered her wedding day, when Rogan had ignored her. “I want him to spend time with me,” she said. “He doesn’t notice me except in bed. I want to be more to him than…than a day of the week. I want him…”
“You want what from him?”
“I want what that slut Jeanne Howard had and threw away!” Liana said violently. “I want Rogan to love me.”
“And you are going to accomplish this with walks in the woods?” The Lady seemed amused.
Liana suddenly felt very tired. Her dream of a husband who walked with her and held her hand was not the man who, after being shot with three arrows, continued to fight for days. She remembered Zared’s saying Rogan was in his brooding room. Well, no wonder he brooded; no wonder he never smiled; no wonder he wanted nothing to do with another wife.
“What do I do?” she whispered aloud. “How do I show him I’m no Jeanne Howard? How do I make a man like Rogan love me?” She looked to the Lady and waited.
But the Lady shook her head. “I have no answer for you. Perhaps it is an impossible task. Most women would be content with a husband who did not beat them and who used other women’s bodies for their needs. Rogan will give you children, and children can be a great comfort to a woman.”
Liana’s mouth tightened. “Children who can grow up to fight and die for the Howards? Am I to stand by and watch while my husband points to the horses’ skulls and teaches my children to hate? Rogan drains all income from me, from the peasants, from wherever he can get it, in order to make war machines. His hatred is more to him than any life on earth. He breeds sons on the peasant girls, then leaves the boys to starve. If for one day he could forget the Howards, forget that now he is the oldest Peregrine. If he could just see how his hatred is causing the slow death of his people, then he might—” She stopped, her eyes wide.
“He might what?”
Liana’s voi
ce was low. “Weeks ago the peasants asked my permission to celebrate St. Eustace’s day. Of course I gave permission. If Rogan could see these people, talk to them…If perhaps he could see his own children…”
The Lady was smiling now. “He has rarely been away from his family, and I doubt if he will agree to spending the day alone with you. Once, when he was alone, his wife was taken and that eventually led to the death of his two brothers. No, he will not readily agree to whatever you request of him.”
The Lady looked at the door and listened. “I believe I hear your maid searching for you. You must go now.”
“Yes,” Liana said, distracted, her thoughts on what they’d talked about. She moved to the door then turned and looked back. “May I see you again? Your door is often locked.”
The Lady smiled. “Whenever you need me, I will be here.”
Liana smiled in return and left the room. She heard the lock turn in the door as soon as it closed. She wanted to knock on the door. There were questions she’d meant to ask the Lady, but she never seemed to remember them when she was in that room.
She changed her mind and didn’t knock but went down the hall, then down the stairs. Joice was indeed looking for her. Lord Rogan had returned, and close behind had come nearly the entire village of peasants, a handcart in their midst. On the cart lay two dead men, a father and son.
“They’re your thieves,” Joice said, eyes wide. “Just like you said. The peasants hanged them. Some of the knights said it was so Lord Rogan wouldn’t torture the men. They say the thieves were Robin Hoods, who shared all they stole, and the peasants loved them. But they hanged them for you, my lady.”
Liana grimaced at this dubious honor, then smoothed her skirts and went down the stairs to meet her husband. Her heart was pounding in her throat.
Rogan was still on his horse, the fading rays of sunlight flashing on his hair, the big roan stallion between his powerful legs prancing dangerously as it felt its master’s anger. Rogan was looking at the castle grounds, frowning at the cleanliness of the place, frowning at the clean peasants who’d lost their lean, gaunt look.
Liana sensed there was to be trouble. She could see it in Rogan’s handsome face. “I have won the wager,” she said as loudly as she could, trying to draw his attention to her and away from the peasants. Since she was in an advantageous position at the top of the stone stairs, her voice carried to the people below.
She watched, breath held, as Rogan reined his horse around to look at her. He remembers me, she thought with pleasure. And more, he desires me. Her heart began to hammer harder.
But then her breath stilled as she looked into his eyes. He seemed to be angry with her—not just angry, but enraged. No doubt this was how he looked at the Howards. I am not your first wife, she thought as she kept her chin upright and tried to still the trembling in her body. She wanted to run up the stairs to her bedroom and hide under the covers. She wanted to get away from this man’s fierce gaze.
“I have won,” she forced herself to say. “Come and be my slave.” She turned away, no longer able to stand Rogan’s glare, and went upstairs to the solar. Perhaps a few minutes alone in the chapel would calm her.
Rogan watched the woman go upstairs, then dismounted, handing the reins to a red-haired stableboy. He watched the boy walk away and he was somehow familiar.
“A woman’s slave for a day?” Severn said from beside his brother, laughter in his voice.
Rogan turned his glare on Severn. “Did you give permission to drain the moat? And this?” He waved his arm to include the very different courtyard and the dead men in the cart. “Is all this your idea? When my back is turned—”
“Your wife deserves the credit, not me,” Severn said, not losing his good humor. “She has done more in these few weeks than you and I—” He stopped as Rogan pushed past him and went up the stairs.
“Will the killings stop now?” one of the peasants dared to ask.
Severn had his own temper and he strode up the stairs two at a time. Zared was the only person in the Lord’s Chamber. “Where is he?” Severn snapped.
“There.” Zared pointed to the room they called the brooding room. It traditionally belonged to the head of the Peregrine family—their father, then Rowland, now Rogan. Its privacy was sacred. When a man was inside it, he was to be disturbed for nothing less than imminent attack.
Severn strode up the few steps to the door, then shoved it open without hesitation.
“Get the hell out of here,” Rogan bellowed, his voice showing his shock.
“And listen to the men call my brother a coward? To hear them say he won’t honor a wager?”
“A woman’s wager,” Rogan sneered.
“But a wager made in public, made in front of me, your men, even the peasants.” Severn calmed himself. “Why not give the woman what she wants? She’ll probably have you sing a duet with her or carry flowers for her. How bad can it be to be a woman’s slave for a day? Especially this woman. All she seems to care about is a clean house and…and you. The Lord only knows why. She asked Zared and me hundreds of questions about you.”
“And you no doubt told her everything. You seem to like talking to women. You and that married duchess of yours—”
“Don’t say anything you’ll regret,” Severn said in warning. “Yes, I talk to Iolanthe. She has a head on her shoulders, and this wife of yours seems to have one, too. She was right when she said she’d get the peasants to present the thieves. For two years we’ve flogged people and beat them and they still steal us blind. Yet all she did was feed them and make them take a bath and they’re groveling at her feet.”
“They’ll get so used to eating our cows they’ll stop working and expect us to provide them with everything. What will they want next? Silk gowns? Furs to keep out the winter’s chill? Peacocks’ tongues for dinner?”
“I don’t know,” Severn answered honestly, “but the woman did win her wager with you.”
“She’s like the peasants. If I give her what she wants today, what will she demand tomorrow? Will she want to run the whole estate? Shall I let her judge the courts as well? Perhaps I should let her train the men.”
Severn looked at his brother for a long moment. “Why are you afraid of her?”
“Afraid of her!” Rogan yelled. “I could break her in half with my bare hands. I could order her locked away. I could send her and her uppity maids to Bevan and never see her again. I could…” He stopped and sat down heavily in a chair.
Severn looked at his brother in amazement. Here was his big, strong, invincible brother, the man who never flinched before a battle, looking like a frightened child. He did not like to see it. Rogan was always sure of himself, always knew what to do. He never hesitated when a decision was to be made and never wavered once he’d decided what to do. No, Severn amended, Rogan didn’t make decisions, he knew what to do.
Severn stepped toward the door. “I will make some excuse to the men. Of course no Peregrine will be a slave to a woman. The very idea is absurd.”
“No, wait,” Rogan said. He didn’t look up. “I was a fool to have agreed to her wager. I had no idea she would produce the thieves. Go to her and ask her what she wants of me. Perhaps she wants a new gown or two. I don’t want to spare the money, but I will.”
When Severn didn’t answer, Rogan looked up. “Well? You have something else to do? Go to her.”
Severn felt warmth rising at his neck. “She might want something…ah, personal from you. If Io won me as a slave for a day, she’d probably tie me to a bed or—” He broke off at the look of interest in Rogan’s eyes. “Who knows what your wife wants from you? Maybe she wants you to wear a donkey’s tail and scrub the floors. Who knows? This woman listens more than she talks. I guess she knows more about us than we do about her.”
“Like a good spy,” Rogan said heavily.
Severn threw up his hands. “Spy or not, I like the smell of this place better. Go see what the woman wants. She seems simple enough.”
He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Moments later, Rogan left his brooding room and mounted the stairs to the solar. He had been in here in the last few years only to fetch a hawk. But the hawks were gone now and the walls looked almost damp with fresh whitewash. Three big tapestries hung on the walls, and his first thought was that he could sell them for gold. There were chairs, tables, stools, and women’s sewing frames scattered about the room.
The women in the room stopped their chattering when they saw him and stared at him as if he were a demon from hell. Across the room, sitting on a window seat, was his wife. He remembered that calm stare of hers, but most of all he remembered the feel of her body.
“Out,” was all he said, then stood there and waited while the scared women scurried past him.
When the two of them were alone, he didn’t move any closer to her. The thirty or so feet separating him from his wife was fine, in his opinion. “What do you want of me?” he asked, his dark brows drawn together in a scowl. “I will not make a fool of myself before my men. I’ll scrub no floors or wear any donkey’s tail.”
Liana blinked at him in astonishment, then smiled. “I have never received any pleasure from making another look like a fool.” Very slowly, she reached up and removed her headdress, letting her long blonde hair cascade about her shoulders and down her back. She gave her head a little shake. “You must be tired after your journey. Come and sit by me. I have wine and sweetmeats here.”
He stood where he was, glaring at her. “Do you try to entice me?”
Liana gave him a look of exasperation. “Yes, I do. And what is so wrong with that? You’re my husband and I haven’t seen you in weeks. Come, tell me what you did while you were away and I will tell you of what was found in the moat.” She took a silver goblet from a table and poured it full of wine, then carried it to him. “Try it, it’s from Spain.”
Rogan took the wine and drank, his eyes never leaving hers, then he looked into the cup in surprise. The wine was delicious.
The Taming Page 13
