The Taming

by Jude Deveraux

  Liana kept up a running stream of conversation with Gaby and pretended she was taking no notice of Rogan and the child, but she kept the little girl supplied with dates and figs. When the child tired of feeding her uncle, she settled back against Rogan and went to sleep.

  All too soon, the sun dropped low in the sky and Liana knew it was time to go home. She didn’t want this pleasant time to end, didn’t want to return to gloomy Moray Castle and, perhaps, a husband who ignored her. She slipped her hand in Rogan’s and put her head on his shoulder. For a long while they sat there, entwined, the sleeping baby on his lap.

  “This has been the best day of my life,” Liana whispered. “I wish it would never end.”

  Rogan tightened his arm around her. It had been such a wasteful day and he planned never again to be so frivolous, but he agreed that it had been…well, pleasant.

  It was Sarah’s waking and crying that made them realize they had to return to their respective homes.

  “You’ll come tomorrow?” Liana asked Gaby, and saw tears of gratitude in the woman’s eyes. Already, Liana had plans of making Gaby her mistress of the household. Gaby would make sure the maids kept the place clean, and Liana would have more time to spend with her husband.

  A few minutes later, in the growing darkness, Rogan and Liana began to slowly walk back to Moray Castle. Hands clasped, they were quiet for a while.

  “I wish we didn’t have to go back,” Liana said. “I wish we could be like Gaby and Baudoin and live in a simple hut somewhere and—”

  Rogan snorted. “They were ready enough to give up their simple hut. That meal must have cost them a year’s wages.”

  “Half a year,” Liana said in the tone of someone who spends a great deal of time with account books. “But they’re in love,” she said dreamily. “I could see it in Gaby’s eyes.” She looked up at Rogan. “It must be how I look at you.”

  Rogan was looking ahead at the walls of Moray Castle. It had been too easy for them to leave this morning. What if the Howards were to dress as vegetable sellers and beg entry? He’d have to tighten vigilance.

  “Did you hear what I said?” Liana asked.

  Perhaps he should require a badge to be worn by the peasants who were allowed to enter. Of course a badge could be stolen, but—

  “Rogan!” Liana had stopped walking and, clutching his hand, she made him halt too.

  “What is it?”

  “Were you listening to me?” she asked.

  “Heard every word you said,” he answered. Perhaps something besides a badge. Maybe a—

  “What did I say?”

  Rogan looked at her blankly. “Say about what?”

  She tightened her lips. “I was telling you that I love you.”

  Perhaps a password, changed daily. Or maybe the safest thing would be just to designate certain peasants to enter, with no new faces allowed in, ever.

  To Rogan’s consternation, his wife dropped his hand and marched ahead of him, and from the way she walked, she looked to be angry. “Now what?” he muttered. He’d done everything she wanted of him today and yet she still wasn’t pleased.

  He caught up with her. “Something wrong?”

  “Oh, so you noticed me,” she said haughtily. “I hope I wasn’t disturbing you by telling you that I love you.”

  “No,” he said honestly. “I was just thinking about something else.”

  “Don’t let my declarations of love interrupt,” she said nastily. “I’m sure a hundred women have sworn they love you. All of the Days. But then you even had Months once. And of course Jeanne Howard probably told you every day.”

  Rogan was beginning to see through her cloud of illogic. This was another one of those woman things and not serious at all. “She wasn’t a Howard when she was married to me.”

  “I see. But you don’t deny that she told you repeatedly that she loved you. You’ve probably heard it so many times it means nothing coming from me.”

  Rogan thought for a moment. “I don’t remember any woman telling me she loved me.”

  “Oh,” Liana said, and slipped her hand back into his. They walked in silence for a few minutes. “Do you love me?” she asked softly.

  He squeezed her hand. “I have a few times. And tonight I’ll—”

  “Not that kind of love. I mean, inside of you. Like how you loved your mother.”

  “My mother died when I was born.”

  She frowned. “Severn’s mother, then.”

  “She died when Severn was born, when I was two. I don’t remember her.”

  “Zared’s mother?” Liana asked softly.

  “I don’t think I felt much of anything for her. She was scared of us all. Used to cry a lot.”

  “Didn’t anyone try to comfort her?”

  “Rowland told her to stop crying so we could get some sleep.”

  Liana thought about that poor woman, alone with a dirty castle full of men whose chief concern was that her crying disturbed their sleep. And she was the wife who was starved to death at Bevan Castle. If Rogan had not loved the women in his life, he must have loved his brothers. “When your oldest brother died—”

  “Rowland did not die, he was killed by the Howards.”

  “All right then,” she said impatiently. “Killed. Murdered. Slaughtered unfairly without provocation. Did you miss him after his death?”

  Rogan took a while to answer as images of his strong, powerful brother floated through his head. “I miss him every day,” he answered at last.

  Liana’s voice lowered. “Would you miss me if I died? Say, if the plague took me?”

  He looked down at her. If she died, his life would return to the way it had been. His clothes would be crawling with lice. The bread would be filled with sand. The Days would return. She wouldn’t be around to curse him, ridicule him, publicly embarrass him, or make him waste his time. He frowned. Yes, he’d miss her.

  And he bloody well didn’t like the idea of missing her.

  “I wouldn’t have to go to any more fairs,” he said, and walked away from her.

  Liana stood rooted where she was. She didn’t like to think how much his words hurt. They had been together such a short time and he meant so much to her, yet she was less than nothing to him.

  She vowed to herself that she’d never let him see how he’d hurt her, that she’d keep her pain to herself. She thought her face was impassive, with no expression showing to give herself away, but when Rogan turned back, he saw his pretty little wife with her lower lip extended and her eyes big with unshed tears. He searched his mind to figure out what was wrong with her. Did she dread returning to the castle?

  He went to her and put his fingers under her chin, but she jerked away.

  “You care nothing for me,” she said. “If I were to die, you could get another rich wife and keep her dowry.”

  Rogan gave a bit of a shudder. “Marriages are too much trouble,” he said. “My father had the stamina of a thousand men. He went through four marriages.”

  In spite of her intentions, tears began to roll down Liana’s face. “If I died, you’d no doubt toss my body in the moat. Good riddance!”

  Rogan’s confusion showed. “If you died I’d…”

  “Yes?” she asked, looking up at him through lashes heavy with tears.

  “I would…know that you were gone.”

  Liana knew this was the best she was going to get from him. She flung her arms about his neck and began to kiss him. “I knew you cared,” she said.

  To the consternation of both of them, people around them began to applaud. They had been so involved in their own dispute that they hadn’t been aware of the people around them who had been gleefully watching and listening.

  Rogan was more embarrassed than Liana. He grabbed her hand and started running. They stopped not far from the castle walls and suddenly he, too, was reluctant for the day to end.

  There was a vendor nearby with a wooden tray fastened to a belt around his shoulders. In the tray were
painted wooden toys of men that danced at the end of a stick. The vendor, seeing Rogan’s glance, hurried forward and demonstrated the funny little doll. When Liana laughed at the doll’s antics, Rogan found himself parting with two precious pennies for the thing.

  Liana clutched the doll eagerly. If Rogan had given her emeralds, she wouldn’t like them as much as the doll. She looked up at Rogan with love.

  Rogan turned away from her look. Such a frivolous day, such a waste of time and money spent on a bit of a girl who asked stupid questions. And yet…

  He put his arm about her shoulders and watched as she fooled with the toy. He felt good as he watched her. He felt at peace, something he thought he’d never felt before. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Never before had he kissed a woman for any reason other than lust.

  Liana snuggled her body closer to his and Rogan knew he’d pleased her. It was absurd, of course, but somehow, pleasing her pleased him.

  With a sigh of regret, he led them to the castle.

  Chapter

  Thirteen

  Severn sat at the now-clean table in the lord’s chamber, eating cheese that had no mold and perfectly cooked beef, and chuckled.

  Zared looked up. “Care to share your humor?”

  “A whole day in bed with a woman,” he said. “Not even I believed Rogan could do it, but once again I underestimated my brother.” His eyes showed his pride. “The woman won’t be able to walk. She’ll probably spend today in bed, too—resting.”

  “Maybe Rogan will be the one wanting to rest.”

  “Ha!” Severn snorted. “You know nothing about men. Especially not about men like our brother. He’ll put that woman in her place. You’ll see. No more trying to run this place after yesterday. Rogan won’t neglect the training field to lay about in her lap.” There was bitterness in his voice. “She’ll stay in her room from now on and not try to interfere in our lives. No more of this constant cleaning and—”

  “Cooking,” Zared interjected. “I rather like the place better. I sure like the food better.”

  Severn pointed his eating knife at Zared. “Luxury can be the downfall of a man, and no one knows that better than our brother. Rogan—”

  “Lost the bet.”

  Severn squinted his eyes. “Yes, he may have lost the bet, but he got what he wanted for payment.”

  “Perhaps,” Zared said, slathering sweet, freshly churned butter onto a thick slice of bread. “But then it was her decision about what she wanted to do, wasn’t it? And she did win the wager, didn’t she? She produced the thieves when you and Rogan couldn’t. And she—”

  “Luck,” Severn said, jaw set. “Blind, stupid luck. No doubt the peasants were ready to turn the thieves over and she happened to arrive at the right time.”

  “Uh-huh,” Zared said. “Sure.”

  “I don’t like your tone,” Severn snapped.

  “And I don’t like your stupidity. The woman has done a lot of work in a short time and she deserves credit. And what’s more, I think Rogan’s falling in love with her.”

  “Love!” Severn gasped. “Love! Rogan would never be so weak. He’s had a hundred women, a thousand, and he’s never fallen in love. He wouldn’t. He’s too sensible.”

  “He wasn’t so sensible about Jeanne Howard.”

  Severn’s face began to turn an unbecoming shade of purple. “What do you know of that woman? You were a kid when she was here. Her treachery killed Basil and James.” He calmed himself a bit. “Anyway, Rogan knows what women are like, especially what wives are like.” He looked at Zared and grinned. “And besides, Rogan never has any use for a woman once he’s bedded her. After yesterday, he’ll be so sick of this woman he’ll probably send her to Bevan to stay and then things will return to normal around here.”

  “Normal meaning rats on the stairs and dead bodies lost in the moat? You know what’s wrong with you, Severn? You’re jealous. You don’t want your brother giving his attention to anyone except you. You don’t—”

  “Jealous! I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me: I fear Rogan’s attention turning from the treachery of the Howards. If this woman softens him, he’ll forget to watch his back and an arrow will pierce it. A man can’t be a Peregrine and wear skirts as well. You should know that.”

  “I do,” Zared said softly. “But what if Rogan does…care for her?”

  “He won’t. Trust me. I know my brother better than he knows himself. He can’t even remember the woman’s name, so there’s no danger of his loving her.”

  Zared started to speak, but a noise on the stairs made them both turn.

  Rogan and Liana entered the room, both of them resplendent in silk brocade, Rogan’s hair damp, as if he’d just washed it. Liana had her arm entwined with his and he had his hand over hers.

  More unusual than the clothes and the posture was the look on Rogan’s face. If he wasn’t quite smiling, he was close to it and his eyes were alive as he looked down into the adoring face of his wife.

  “Perhaps,” Rogan was saying.

  “Are you afraid I will contradict you before the peasants?” Liana asked.

  “You contradict me?” he asked. “Such a thing might make the peasants believe you’d…”—he hesitated—“…tamed me.”

  Liana laughed, touching her forehead to his arm. As they walked to the table, they didn’t seem to notice the open-mouthed astonishment on the faces of Severn and Zared.

  “Good morning,” Liana said cheerfully, then seated herself at Rogan’s right hand. “Tell me if any food isn’t to your liking and I’ll speak to the cook—after the court session.”

  “I see,” Rogan said in mock seriousness. “And if you do not participate in the courts, what will we have for dinner?”

  Liana smiled sweetly at him. “What you have always eaten: sandy bread and maggoty meat, with moat water to drink.”

  Rogan turned twinkling eyes to Severn. “This woman blackmails me. If I do not allow her to help judge the court cases, she will starve me.”

  Severn had been too stunned by this new behavior of his brother’s to be able to speak, and now he did not trust himself. He came out of his chair so quickly it fell to the floor. He turned on his heel and stomped from the room.

  Rogan, having lived with brothers who were moody and angry most of the time, paid no attention to Severn.

  Not so Liana. She turned to Zared. “What is wrong with him?”

  Zared shrugged. “He doesn’t like being wrong. He’ll get over it. Rogan, you look like you enjoyed yourself yesterday.”

  Rogan started to say something about the fair, but he thought it best that only a few people know where he’d been yesterday. “Yes,” he said softly. “I did.”

  Zared saw Rogan look at Liana with wonder on his face. Rogan would remember the woman’s name now, Zared thought, and again wondered if he was falling in love. What would a Rogan in love be like? Would he turn his brooding room into a chamber for writing poetry?

  Zared sat quietly at the table and watched the two of them and saw a brother who didn’t act like a Peregrine. Perhaps Severn was right. This brother would never be able to lead an attack on the Howards.

  When Rogan finished eating, he gave Liana a lusty look and said, “Come with me, my beauty,” at which Liana convulsed with laughter.

  Zared, at that point, began to agree with Severn. This was not the brother Zared had always known, the Rogan who scowled and frowned and hated.

  Quietly, thoughtfully, Zared left the table, but Rogan and Liana didn’t notice.

  Severn’s anger stayed with him throughout the day. In the afternoon he was on the training field with the men, but Rogan wasn’t. “Probably back in bed with the woman,” he muttered.

  “My lord?” asked the knight Severn was training with.

  Severn took his anger out on the knight, attacking him in the mock battle with a ferocity he usually used only on the battlefield.

  “Enough!” Rogan bellowed from behind Severn. “Are you trying t
o kill the man?”

  Severn halted, sword in hand, and turned to his brother. Beside Rogan was a man who looked very much like him. “What’s one of our father’s bastards doing here?” Severn snarled.

  “He is to train with us. I put him in your charge.” Rogan started to turn away, but Severn caught Rogan’s shoulder and pulled him around.

  “Like hell I’ll train the bastard. If you want him here, you train him. Or should we let your wife train him, since she seems to run the Peregrines now? Was he her idea?”

  Severn had hit too close to the truth, and Rogan grabbed an iron pike from the hands of a knight standing nearby. “You will eat those words,” Rogan said, and went for his brother.

  Severn took a pike too. The men fought long and hard while their knights watched in silence, for they sensed that this was not like the usual petty fights of the brothers but something deeper and more serious.

  Rogan was not fueled by rage as his brother was. In fact, he felt less angry than he had in years, so he merely defended himself against his brother’s attacks.

  Both men were surprised when Rogan’s foot caught behind him and he fell. Rogan started to get up, but Severn held the pointed end of the iron pike to his brother’s throat.

  “This is what that woman is doing to you,” Severn said. “She might as well castrate you; she already has a chain about your neck.”

  It was too close to what the peasants had implied in the play. Rogan’s rage came to the surface. He pushed the pike aside and leaped up, going for Severn with his bare hands.

  Six knights jumped on Rogan and four on to Severn to hold the men apart.

  “You always were a fool about women,” Severn shouted. “The last wife of yours cost the lives of two brothers, but I guess we mean nothing to you when you have a wife.”

  Rogan went dead still. “Release me,” he said to his men, and the men stepped back. They should not have interfered. Rogan was the lord and he had every right to do what needed to be done to his brother.

  Rogan stepped close to his brother. Severn’s blue eyes were still hot with anger; he was held back by the knights. “I have given you another brother to train,” he said quietly. “I expect you to do it.” He turned and walked back to the castle.