by Sara Bennett
“I wanted you, Radulf, even then. I want you still. There is no one else for me.”
With what seemed a tremendous effort, Radulf turned and walked away. Lily, after one more glance at that lovely smiling face, turned and followed. He was taking such big strides she had to run to catch up to him. Lily glanced over her shoulder, but the other woman was soon swallowed up in the crowd.
“Radulf, what—”
“No!” he roared, and then, controlling himself, “no. You will return that gown tonight. You should never have worn it.”
Lily frowned up at his rigid profile, her heart thumping with fright and confusion. “I had nothing else to wear,” she said, lowering her voice. “You did not think to supply me with a gown.”
Radulf turned and glared at her. “You did not ask!”
“I did not know I could!”
He halted, and Lily gave a sigh of relief. The expression on his face was more familiar now, though still pale. He was cross and he was frowning. “You can make any reasonable request, lady. I am your husband and bound to consider it.”
Lily laughed angrily. “Vorgen never did! Why should you be different? You have told me you are marrying me to punish me, and now you say I have only to ask for a thing and you will grant my wish. Forgive me if I find it difficult to reconcile those two statements, my lord.”
“Nevertheless, it is true,” he replied in a voice more like a snarl.
“Radulf.”
They both looked up, startled by the interruption. A slight man in a fur-trimmed tunic stood before them, a quizzical smile upon his thin lips. His hands were encrusted with rings, a sign of considerable wealth.
“You look pale for a bridegroom, Radulf,” he went on. “And this is your wife? Lady, you are fair indeed. I can see why Radulf is keen to tame you to our Norman ways.”
Lily flushed, sensing the subtle barb behind his polite words. “I am already well acquainted with Norman ways, sir!” she retorted sharply.
He laughed. “You are more robust than you look, lady. You will need to be so if you are married to Radulf. I know of these things. I am Lord Kenton.”
Lily flicked a surprised glance at Radulf, who was stony-faced and seemingly unmoved. “I am glad to meet you,” she ventured. “I have met your wife.”
Kenton’s pale eyes were curious and strangely sympathetic, as if he felt a kinship with her. The light brown hair, though creeping back from his high forehead, was yet luxuriant about his ears. He was older than Radulf and very different. Lily felt oddly repelled.
“Do you stay in York long?” Radulf’s soft voice broke in on her thoughts. He had mastered whatever emotions had overtaken him when he came face to face with Lady Anna, but Lily caught a glitter of banked fires in those eyes.
Lord Kenton smiled and shrugged. “I leave that to my wife. She was very insistent we come to York, and now she wants to remain a little longer. There are people she particularly wants to see.”
Radulf grunted a noncommittal reply.
To Lily’s mind Lady Anna and her husband seemed a mismatched couple, the lady so tall and beautiful, the man so slight and strange. Perhaps the amount of precious stones upon his hands explained their wedding.
Lord Kenton seemed to read her thoughts upon her face, and a smug little smile pulled at his mouth. “Lady Anna is very beautiful, is she not, lady? Such a woman needs a man who can display her in the correct setting.”
Radulf grimaced. “You speak in riddles as usual, Kenton.”
“Not at all, Radulf. It is just that you are a plainspoken man. So I will speak plainly to you. My wife is my property and I will never release her.”
Lily felt a jolt down her spine, but Radulf appeared unmoved. He settled himself more easily upon his strong legs, folding his arms across his broad chest.
“Aye, that is direct. This shuffling about an issue tires me far more than a good battle. I like to see a man’s eyes over a sharp blade; then I can tell what truly lies in his heart.”
“I have great respect for other men’s property, Kenton. As you can see, I am only lately married myself.”
Lord Kenton gave Lily his little smile. “And she is beautiful…in her way. Have you used your sorcery on her yet? Once he does, lady, you will never be free of him. I am one who knows. Radulf has had a way with women since he was a boy. That is so, is it not, my lord?”
The undercurrents between the two men rippled and swirled, and Lily wondered where this odd conversation would end.
“Someone has led you astray on this matter,” Radulf said at last, his face thoughtful, his words almost tentative. “It is not for me to advise you in these things, Kenton, but do not believe all that you hear. I have been down that road before—”
“No.” He did not raise his voice, and yet that single word had enough strength in it to stop Radulf in midsentence. “I will hear no more on this. You should take your wife and go home to your marriage bed.”
Radulf bowed his head in farewell. “I intend to do so.”
As Lily moved to pass him, Kenton leaned forward, his breath hot in her ear. “Do not love him, lady, whatever you do.” Then, when Lily jerked back, “Lady, it has been a pleasure to meet one so fair. Lord Radulf is indeed a lucky man to have acquired you with your northern lands. It seems that brutality has its place.”
“He is very peculiar,” Lily murmured, when they were far enough away so that Lord Kenton could not overhear.
“What did he say to you?”
Do not love him, lady. “I didn’t hear it.”
Radulf gave her a frowning look. “Aye, he is peculiar, and slippery as an eel. He has lands not far from York, which he got through the use of his tongue rather than his sword arm. If he wants to fight, he hires mercenaries to die for him.” Radulf’s eyes were hard and cold. “I do not like him, lady. I do not trust him. You should take care if you are ever again in his company.”
“That is odd,” she retorted. “He said the same thing about you.”
His eyes flashed, and Lily was reminded that the fire of his anger was only banked, not yet quenched. She wondered if it was Lord Kenton himself that Radulf disliked, or the fact that he was Lady Anna’s husband.
“For a Norman he appeared harmless enough,” she went on, as if unaware of his glowering look. “Has he been wed to Lady Anna long?”
Emotion flared again in Radulf’s black eyes; he was losing the tight clamp he had placed on his temper. He gripped Lily’s hand painfully tight. “Come, lady, we are leaving. I have had enough of talk.”
Their leave-takings were done in surprisingly short time. With William’s good wishes and bawdy laughter ringing in their ears, Radulf and his new wife left to return to the inn.
Lily found the dark ride through York a far different affair from their journey to the castle. The quiet, cold streets were dreamlike, a scene from one of her mother’s Norse stories. The white mist clung about the horses’ hooves, stirring to their movement, lapping at the doors of the houses they passed.
Swaying, light-headed, Lily became aware of how weary she was. And how confused. What was this Lady Anna to Radulf? Why should he be so angry about something as simple as a borrowed gown? And what could the woman’s hints and innuendos refer to?
They have been lovers.
Her inner voice scoffed at her stubborn refusal to see what must be clear to everyone else. Once Radulf had held Anna in his arms, kissed her wide mouth, and gazed into her golden eyes. And she had stroked that broad back and held him in the throes of love. According to Anna, Radulf’s heart still belonged to her. Was that why he had not married until now? Because he could not have the woman he truly loved?
Lily shuddered, torn with a jealousy so great it was beyond description. Was that why he had been so angry with her, because she had reminded him of what he could not have? And Lord Kenton, did he know about Radulf and his beautiful wife? Was that why he spoke so strangely, firing little barbs at Radulf and trying to wound him?
It must be
so.
Lily closed her eyes and felt the knife twist in her heart. The truth was, she wanted Radulf to be hers. Only hers.
The mist swirled, and she was cold despite her warm cloak. Though Radulf’s men rode silently about her and Radulf was a dark shadow at her side, Lily suddenly felt very much alone.
The inn was warm and stuffy, the air thick with woodsmoke. Una had decorated Lily’s room with flowers, and there were fresh linens upon the bed. She had also set out a tray with warmed spiced wine and oatcakes. The fire was burning brightly, throwing wild shadows upon the walls.
It was a sanctuary, and yet Lily did not feel safe.
The girl served them silently, her bright smile quickly fading as she sensed the strained atmosphere between the couple. Beyond the closed door, Radulf’s men laughed and cheered in celebration of their lord’s nuptials, their noise accentuating the silence within the bedchamber.
Radulf drained his goblet, barely noticing what he drank. He was pale and there were hollows under his eyes from two nights with little sleep. He felt sick and wretched. “Take the gown off and I will have it returned immediately,” he directed.
Lily touched the mellow, satiny cloth with one careful finger. It was unlikely she would ever wear such a garment again. Despite what Radulf had said, he would probably keep her in rags and chained to the wall of their bedchamber.
“I do not understand why my wearing it should displease you,” she replied soberly.
He gave her a bleak look. “It is not a subject for this night. Take off the gown.”
She was sorely tempted to refuse and see what he would do, but Lily was fairly sure that in his present mood he would strip it off her. She had more pride than to allow that. Widening her eyes to stop the tears, Lily undid the ties at either side of her waist, and with quick, jerky movements, loosened the gown so that she could slip it over her hips. She released first one arm and then the other, and the golden cloth fell in a pool at her feet. Beneath it she wore a chemise so fine it was barely more than being naked. The fire flared behind her, and she became aware that her body was clearly visible through the silken material.
She also became aware of Radulf’s stillness.
He had caught his breath, and his eyes shone hot and black. Lily wavered, folding her arms across her breasts. She had opened her mouth to tell him to leave when the memory of Anna’s seductive smile, the expression in those exquisite eyes, slipped unbidden into her mind.
How do you know that Radulf will not return the gown himself? that sly voice asked. And that he will not stay to take wine with Lady Anna, and then to kiss her and fondle her? And before long they will be together, entwined, in Lady Anna’s bed.
Jealousy wrenched Lily again. I am his wife now, she reminded herself. Why should I send him to another woman, when it is in my power to keep him with me?
And it was in her power; she was almost sure of it. Whatever ill-feeling might exist between Radulf and herself, their bodies were perfectly in tune.
Slowly, her eyes fixed on his, Lily began to slip one sleeve of the chemise over one bare shoulder. That was all it took. In an instant he was on his feet and reaching for her. His hands twined in her hair, tipping her face up to his, and he plundered her mouth with the rough desperation of a man starving for kisses.
Was he pretending she was Anna?
No, he desired her, Lily, and had since the first moment they had seen each other. At least she had his lust, even if his heart was elsewhere.
Lily gasped as his hands smoothed over her back and hips, reacquainting himself with her soft curves, before closing on her rounded bottom. He pulled her closer against his body, until she felt the hard length of him jutting against her belly, and groaned. Lily felt a hot, melting joy. Radulf wanted her, just as much as she wanted him.
Lily’s breasts were full and heavy, and now his hands were upon them through the gossamer cloth. He bent his head to scrape his teeth across her nipples, and Lily gave a soft cry, arching her body while her hands clung to his broad shoulders.
Radulf laid her down upon the bed, the scent of flowers and passion mingling in the air. He tugged impatiently at the laces of his breeches, shrugging them down over his heavily muscled legs before kicking them off. Lily slipped her hands up under his tunic and shirt, her cool fingers seeking and finding the many battle scars. He was a warrior feared by many, but tonight he was hers.
As impatient as he, Lily tugged his fine tunic up over his head, followed by his shirt, and then looked her full upon him. She would never tire of looking. The firm, curved muscles of his chest, the mighty shoulders and arms, the thick column of his neck. His belly was flat and hard, and lower surged the proud evidence of his manhood.
Lily ran her hands over him, unable to help herself, not wanting to stop. Bending, she began to ply her warm mouth to his chest, her long hair a silver waterfall, shielding her, tempting him.
Radulf bore her caresses until her tormenting tongue dipped lower and made him groan. Then he lifted her from him, dragging the flimsy chemise over her head and tossing it onto the floor. With a grunt of satisfaction, he leaned back to gaze upon her naked body. His face was taut and set with desire, his chest was rising and falling in hard, short pants. He looked up and met Lily’s eyes.
The gray irises had darkened, and her eyelids were heavy. Her lips parted as her breath whispered out, and she trembled, little frissons passing over her heated skin. She was a mare ready for her stallion, and she saw him smile.
Slowly, torturously so, Radulf reached out one hand to her lips, his thumb rubbing over the soft flesh. Next he touched her breasts, carefully weighing each one, gently pinching the rigid nipples. Then his hands dipped lower, seeking out the curve of her waist, the soft warmth of her belly, the smooth length of her thigh. And with every touch he looked to her face, into her eyes, and read there the effect he was having upon her.
Lily could not hide her wild desire, so no wonder his smile grew. But she thought he had a right to smile. He was a god among ordinary men, he was her Thor.
By the time Radulf’s attention had settled on the blond curls between her thighs, Lily was ready to burst into flames. When he slid his finger slowly inside her, she cried out involuntarily, so sensitive was she, her body rippling and clenching about him, her arms reaching to cling about his neck.
Radulf lifted her, his big hands warm about her hips, and sheathed himself fully inside her. Lily gasped out his name, and then he was thrusting deeply, his voice a low, husky chant. “You are mine, lady. Mine.”
Lily had thought herself beyond more pleasure, but now a trembling began deep within her, dissolving skin and bone and sinew, causing her to cry and moan into his shoulder. Radulf followed her, his big body shuddering violently against hers.
After a time their breathing slowed and their bodies cooled. Radulf lay down, turning on his side and pinning Lily to him. He dragged the furs over them both. He knew he should pinch out the flame in the horn lamp, but he was too comfortable to move. He also knew he should take the cursed golden gown out to his men and send one of them back with it.
The wild fury that had overcome him at the feast threatened him again with sharp claws, but he beat it down. Tomorrow. He would deal with that tomorrow. Gradually, his body relaxed again. He had Lily warm and compliant in his arms, and he would enjoy her while he could. For who knew what the future might bring?
As if she had heard his thoughts, Lily stirred, her breasts brushing against the hair on his chest, her long slim leg thrown over his hard-muscled one. He thought her asleep, until her fingers lightly tested the stubble on his chin before wandering up to the old wound near his left eye. She moved her fingertips back and forth over the raised scar, again and again, as if somehow her touch could erase it.
Her gentle fingers soothed him, even as the touch of her body against his stirred awake the passion he thought sated. Radulf, monster of legend, had taken a beautiful wife. Perhaps she would yet turn him into a handsome prince.
/> “Am I truly yours?” Lily whispered, her breath sweet against the hollow of his throat. There was an urgency in her voice, a trace of fear.
He didn’t know what she wanted. Was it reassurance or denial? He simply spoke what was in his heart.
“Aye.”
Evidently she was happy with that, for soon her breathing slowed and he knew her to be asleep. Memories of the night returned to him: Anna’s beautiful, evil face, and Kenton, that wordy fool. He had made Radulf seem like a brutal, fornicating monster, and although it was not so, Radulf had been afraid Lily might believe Kenton. Yet she did not seem to. When she had looked upon him just now it was as if she saw another man entirely, and it puzzled him, even frightened him a little. For what if one day the mist cleared from before her eyes and she saw the real Radulf, and he was every bit as brutal and despicable as the legends had claimed? What then?
Radulf shifted, settling his arms more comfortably about her and easing her head against his shoulder. Such thoughts were best left alone. Enjoy the here and now, and let the future remain hidden. Soon he would make love to her again. Already he felt that traitorous flesh between his thighs hardening as he dreamed of penetrating deep to her womb.
But first he would watch her sleep.
His wife.
The day seemed to resurrect all that had been put to rest in the night’s darkness. At first light Radulf sent one of his men to return the dress to Lady Kenton, only to have it back again with her good wishes. Seething, blind with temper, he rent the priceless cloth with his bare hands and flung it into the fire while Lily watched, white-faced.
“You will never again wear anything of hers!” he shouted at her, his eyes reflecting the fury of the flames as they ate her golden wedding dress.
Lily’s confidence and belief in herself had long ago been undermined by Vorgen’s twisted cruelty. Instead of recognizing Radulf’s anger as being against Lady Anna and himself, she believed that it was she he was displeased with. Did he think her unworthy of Lady Anna? Did he, despite last night, long to hold Anna in his arms? The burning of the dress could only be the frustration and misery of a man who loved a woman he could not have.
