“Your pardon,” Raynor said, making to back through the door. “I have obviously come into the wrong room.”
Elizabeth held up her hand. “Nay, wait. 'Tis no mistake. Aileen has placed us here together. We are man and wife. It was only natural for her to assume we would be sharing a chamber.”
Raynor could not stop the rush of heat that ran up his neck. “I see. Well, I will simply sleep outside the gates with my men.” Raynor reached for the door. He would be glad of Bronic’s familiar company. He had refused the offer of a room in the keep, saying he would leave Raynor to get acquainted with his new in-laws.
But Elizabeth stopped her husband with a shake of her head. She moved toward him slowly, and the fire was a yellow-and-red glow behind her, haloing her long, slender legs, her delicately curved figure. He felt a tightness in his loins.
Elizabeth spoke softly. “There is no need for that, Raynor. As man and wife, we have the right to share this room.”
She stopped a mere arm’s length from him. She watched him, her eyes dark, magnetic pools, but with her back to the light he could not read their expression.
“Nay,” he whispered as he felt his resistance to her spiraling downward.
She inched closer, so close he could feel the heat from her fire-warmed skin. “Why, Raynor? Why must it be this way? Can we not try to make a start?”
With Elizabeth standing here, asking him these questions, he found it hard to remember why he must keep his distance. He remembered the way she had looked at him over dinner, how she had voiced her agreement with his opinions, even though they differed from her brother’s. He could not recall having been so warmed by such a small thing ever before.
Almost as if from outside himself, Raynor reached for her. And she came into his arms completely unresisting, offering her lips without demur.
He dragged her closer, so close their bodies seemed to meld. Raynor could feel his manhood growing against her belly, and could not keep himself from arching against her.
She groaned, wrapping her arms around his neck as he deepened their kiss. When he opened his mouth to give her his tongue, he found her open and willing. Her own tongue danced with his.
He shaped her back and hips with his palms, molding her to the hard length of him, marveling at the pliant weight of her in his arms. She sighed against his lips, undulating sensuously beneath his questing hands.
She drew back from him, her eyes locking on his as she took his large hand in her soft one. “Raynor, come to me. Come.” She backed slowly toward the bed.
And he moved with her, lost in a sea of need that had been building since the first day he saw her. But as he looked at her, marveled at her beauty and the knowledge that she should want him so openly, Raynor’s ardor cooled.
Why did she want him? He had given her no reason for such.
Raynor knew that, as Bronic kept saying, he was little short of cruel at times. There was no reason for Elizabeth to harbor any romantic emotions where he was concerned. Thus, this show of desire must be some trick on her part. With her beauty and woman’s charms she wanted to bind him to her, take away his ability to reason for himself.
Just as his mother had done to his father.
He stopped still, forcing her to halt with him.
She turned as if sensing his withdrawal, her tone husky with confusion. “Raynor?”
He pulled his hand from hers. “Nay, witch. Say nothing. You have nearly succeeded in your scheme.”
Elizabeth looked up at him. Now that they were closer to the hearth, he could see that her sapphire eyes were large and luminous. “I know not what you mean,” she said.
His voice was hard with determination. “I will not be bound to you. I will not be controlled by you.”
If he hadn’t known better he would have thought her words sincere when she answered, for her voice shook with emotion. “I do not seek to bind you. Only to be your wife. We must at least try to begin a life together. It is our only hope of a future.”
“Nay.” He backed away from the temptation she offered. “There is no hope for me in what you suggest. I heard the way your brother’s wife rules him. I will not be tamed like a pet hound.”
With that, he turned and strode from the room, forcing down the impulse to look back. In that direction was ruin.
Elizabeth had just shown him how much power she did have over him. For a time, he had lost all concept of himself and what he wanted. Losing himself in her would be far too easy.
She contained the ability to completely swallow all that he was in the pleasure of having her.
And, worst of all, he could barely convince himself that rejecting her and that promise of pleasure was what he wanted.
Chapter Six
Elizabeth’s fingers tightened on the reins as she caught herself staring once again at Raynor’s back. It seemed she was ever doing so.
She turned away, forcing herself to focus on the beauty of the forest around them. The sharpness of spruce and fragrant cedar and the dry mustiness of fallen leaves mingled to produce a pungent, rich scent. At the roadsides and beneath the trees, trailing myrtle, violets and daisies bloomed in delicate clusters.
In other circumstances, she might have enjoyed this trip across England to a new place. But Raynor’s resentment of her made that impossible.
Sweet Jesu, the man was near driving her mad. He’d barely spoken to her since the night she’d offered herself to him at Landview. Her cheeks became warm when she remembered how he’d run from her as if she might infect him with plague.
Their party had left the next morning, and though Raynor was polite and gracious with her brother and Aileen, he’d not spoken to his wife more than was absolutely necessary.
Although she’d said nothing, Elizabeth felt her sister-by-marriage knew something was wrong between the newlyweds. Aileen had watched Elizabeth and Raynor with speculation.
Elizabeth knew there weren’t any traces of the tears she’d shed after Raynor left, for she had been careful to wash them away. When she left her solitary chamber, the mirror had shown no outward evidence of her unhappiness, save that her face seemed slightly paler than usual.
Her gaze drifted back to her husband.
Why was he being so difficult? It seemed the more she tried to know Raynor the more determined he was to keep her at arm’s length. Couldn’t he see that it was in both their best interests to try to get along?
She’d only been trying to break though the barriers that separated them.
Elizabeth tried to quell the thoughts that gave lie to that reasoning. But they would not be quelled. The truth was that she desired her husband. Had since the first moment she’d seen him. And nothing he’d done had changed that fact. There was just something about him, a freeness of spirit that told her he lived by his own rules and no others.
Elizabeth could not help admiring this strength of spirit, even as it maddened her.
Her face flamed anew as she recalled the way she reacted to his kisses. Raynor must be aware she desired him. Elizabeth could not hide it, even did she have a desire to do so. Every time he touched her, she came alive as never before.
Could that be what troubled Raynor? Was he repulsed by her open desire for him? She bit her lip in confusion.
Women at court attested to the fact that a man wanted a willing woman in his bed. And Elizabeth’s brothers certainly appeared to desire this willingness in a woman.
But mayhap Raynor was different.
He had behaved unexpectedly in other ways. Did he expect her to remain unmoved by his lovemaking?
The way her body had turned to fire at his very touch, Elizabeth knew that pretending indifference would prove nigh on impossible. And what right had Raynor to think it should be so? she asked herself indignantly.
She had been able to feel the all-too-obvious evidence of his response. Just the memory of his rigid need pressed to her belly made her clench her thighs in reaction.
Elizabeth shifted restlessly in the saddle. She must needs dr
ag her mind from that path. Thinking on the matter would gain her nothing. For whatever reason, Raynor seemed bent on denying the passion he felt toward her, and that was something she would have to acknowledge. Even so, it was very hard to accept the fact that not only would she never know love, she must also be denied the physical desire that was all Raynor seemed to be able to feel for her.
Angry with herself for allowing thoughts of Raynor to cloud her mind yet again, Elizabeth decided she would be best served by some companionship.
She slowed Minerva, dropping back to the wagon where Olwyn sat. Knowing how Raynor reacted to any delay, Elizabeth studied the situation carefully.
Seeing what Elizabeth was up to, Olwyn slid over to the middle of the seat, her brows arched in an unspoken question.
That settled it. Elizabeth leaned over and gripped the rough wooden side with both hands.
The driver of the wagon reacted with horror, but Elizabeth quelled him with a look as he made to slow down. “Keep moving,” she said regally. “You know how Lord Warwicke mislikes having to halt this entourage. I know what I am about, and am in no danger.”
After one pained look toward his master, where he rode ahead of them, the driver did as she said.
Agilely she climbed inside. The pace was slow, and the maneuver proved simple.
Once settled, Elizabeth called out to one of Raynor’s mounted men to take the reins of her horse. He did so, then tied Minerva to the back of the moving wagon.
Obviously they felt it would be well to leave her to her husband, did he take issue with her. It was clear they had already realized that Elizabeth acted by her will and no other’s. She was pleased, for it was best if they understood her from the outset in this situation.
Olwyn reacted to this performance without the least bit of surprise, being accustomed to Elizabeth’s ways. And she felt no real concern, for she knew her mistress would do nothing to cause herself harm.
Happily distracted from the sewing in her lap, Olwyn smiled in welcome.
Elizabeth sighed, and returned her smile. “I am grown weary of my own company.”
Olwyn laughed. “I will be glad of yours.” She held up the needle and cloth with a rueful expression. “I fear I am making a muddle of this mending, what with all this swaying and rolling.”
Elizabeth eyed the tangle dubiously. “Why do you make the effort?”
Shrugging, Olwyn placed the sewing in the basket behind her. “Sheer boredom.” She looked ahead of them to where Raynor and Bronic rode at the front of the group. “Think you we will stop ere long? I am sore tired of traveling.”
Elizabeth shrugged, her gaze following her woman’s. “I know not. My lord husband keeps his plans close to him.”
As if sensing that she was speaking of him, Raynor glanced back over his shoulder. Then he frowned with surprise and displeasure as his eyes came to rest on Elizabeth in the wagon. Raynor said something to Bronic, who nodded and dropped back.
Bronic approached, his admiring gaze was trained on Olwyn.
Elizabeth looked to her woman with a considering expression. Olwyn’s cheeks were stained with delicate pink color, and she studied her hands in her lap with obvious determination.
Oho, Elizabeth thought. Could there be something brewing between these two? Elizabeth was not sure how she felt about the idea of Olwyn and Bronic together. Olwyn had been with her for many years, and the thought of being without her, especially when so many things were changing in her life, was completely unsettling.
Elizabeth stopped herself. What she need not do was dwell on the matter. If the moment came for Olwyn to leave her, Elizabeth would send her off with love. Until that time, she would simply watch to see how things developed.
She had enough on her trencher with Raynor as mate.
When the wagon came level with Bronic, the blond man fell in beside them.
“Lady Elizabeth,” he said.
“Yes?” she replied politely. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable with what he was about to say, for his face became flushed as he met her eyes for a brief moment.
“Your husband requests that you ask the wagons to halt next time you wish to change places.”
Elizabeth’s lips tightened. “I see.” She smiled then, almost too sweetly. “Clearly I fail to please my lord Warwicke at every turn. Hoping to avoid conflict with him, I sought only to save a delay in our progress to Warwicke. As it seems to make him angry no matter what I do, would you be so good as to tell my husband that I will do as I please in this respect? And should he have more instructions regarding my actions, he should have the courage to face me himself.”
To Elizabeth’s complete surprise, Bronic let out a burst of unrestrained laughter. “I have done so, my lady, be assured of that. The only reason I agreed to speak with you this time was that I had had enough of his ill-tempered company. He has been as a wounded wolf these past days.”
So Raynor was not himself... If Bronic was surprised by Raynor’s ill nature, then she must assume he was not always thus. The news came as a great relief. Elizabeth had begun to wonder if she had married a man who was capable only of anger.
Nay, Elizabeth reminded herself. Not only anger. He was certainly capable of passion, though he seemed to take little joy even in that.
But Raynor’s faults were not Bronic’s, and she did not wish to embroil him in her conflict with her husband. “On second thought, methinks I would be well pleased to deliver my own message to Raynor when next we speak. I have no need to send another in my stead.”
Bronic laughed again. “In that case, my lady, may I ride with you awhile? Your fair company would be more welcome to me than that of one who shall remain nameless.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth replied. But she could see that as he spoke, Bronic’s admiring gaze was on Olwyn’s profile. And that fair dame was blushing like a sunset. When the companion glanced at the knight from the corner of her eye, those orbs were dark with uncertainty and longing.
Elizabeth frowned pensively. She could see that her woman did indeed return Bronic’s regard, and more than a little. Elizabeth only hoped that Bronic understood that Olwyn was not to be used lightly. She felt a certain protectiveness toward the other woman even though Olwyn was older.
Of a certainty there would be no trifling with Olwyn. If Bronic desired Elizabeth’s companion, he must be prepared to marry her. And, though things had not progressed so far at this time, Elizabeth could see that her notion of not worrying about the situation might not be the correct one.
This would certainly bear watching. Bronic seemed a good man, and he was definitely handsome, with his blond hair, blue eyes and Nordic features. But those qualities alone were not enough to recommend him. He must prove to be kind and loving, as well. Nothing less would do for Olwyn. She realized it was her duty to discover if Bronic was indeed a good enough match for her beloved Olwyn.
With half an ear, Elizabeth listened as the generally straightforward Olwyn answered Bronic’s attempts to draw her out with uncharacteristic shyness.
Nay, there would be no harm in making sure Bronic was a good man. Elizabeth did so love order, and she sought to do all she could to make things around her go smoothly. It would not serve to leave Olwyn’s future to chance.
Realizing that Raynor would likely know more about Bronic than any other, as the two seemed so close, Elizabeth determined that she would first go there for information. She had no intention of telling Raynor why she asked of his man. She had no doubt her husband would try to interfere with the budding romance, feeling as he obviously did about women, in some misguided attempt to protect Bronic.
Indeed, the very idea of Olwyn being the aggressor was quite amusing. In the years they’d been together, she’d not so much as looked at a man. That was a large part of the reason Elizabeth took her interest in Bronic so to heart.
Elizabeth knew she would have to go carefully with Raynor or he’d surely become suspicious of her motives. He’d not be able to understand that s
he was only trying to look after Olwyn, as she was duty bound to do.
* * *
Elizabeth’s opportunity to speak with Raynor came several hours later, after they stopped to make camp for the night.
Olwyn and Elizabeth roasted several hares that Raynor brought to camp, while Bronic and the other men set up the four tents.
As this was going on, Raynor made himself busy with feeding and watering the horses, only coming close to the fire when the meal was ready. As was his wont, he quickly separated himself from the rest of the group, taking his roast meat to a large flat stump some distance away.
When Bronic sat down to chat with a shy but smiling Olwyn, Elizabeth rose and went to sit by her husband.
Raynor had obviously been deep in his own thoughts, for he seemed not to even notice her until she had settled herself beside him. For a long time, he said nothing, but his discomfort was evident in the start he gave, though she tried to hide it with a too-casual shrug.
Velvet Bond Page 11
