Velvet Bond

by Catherine Archer

  When she saw this, Elizabeth knew a moment of puzzlement. What had she done to startle the indomitable Raynor? Then she nearly laughed aloud as understanding dawned. She had done the unthinkable and come to him. Always before, it had seemed as if Raynor had the upper hand between them. Now it was she who had made a move toward him.

  Oh, but it was good to see him rattled. He did work so very hard at pretending to be indifferent to her.

  Feeling wonderfully confident, Elizabeth simply sat beside her husband, taking small bites of her own well-cooked rabbit. Olwyn had stuffed the animals with the wild onions she’d gathered, and they were really quite delicious.

  Finally Raynor spoke, trying too hard to keep the strain from his voice. “Elizabeth.”

  “Raynor,” she returned politely.

  “Might I do you some service?”

  She turned and smiled at him, feeling quite amused. “Did you have some specific service in mind, my lord?”

  His dark brows met over a strongly masculine nose. He seemed to be trying to understand why she was being so pleasant. “I did not, madame. I but refer to your presence. I must assume you desire something from me. Else why would you be here?” He indicated her place on the tree stump. Clearly he wished to get it done and see her off.

  Some imp of mischief made her want to tease him but a moment longer, though she had to admit her motive was not entirely for fun. It did plague her that Raynor was so very eager to be rid of her. He was, after all, her husband, and he had neglected her terribly, even sending his man to tell her when he was not happy with her behavior. That galled her no small amount.

  As Elizabeth became aware of his rising agitation, she decided she had best get that matter settled and out of the way first. “My lord husband—” she began. Elizabeth had to then bite back the retort that sprang to her mind as he grimaced at the word husband. She would not allow him to rile her. Like it or nay, he was wed to her.

  Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth began again. “My lord husband, it has come to my attention that you have some concern for my safety.”

  For moment he looked perplexed. Then his face cleared, and he nodded. “Aye, you will not be climbing back and forth from horse to wagon in the future. 'Tis not safe for you to do so. You will ask the driver to stop and assist you.”

  His dark eyes held all the condemnation of a reprimanding father, and his lean jaw flexed with irritation. He was so very sure of himself that she longed to wipe that condescending expression from his handsome face.

  But what bothered her most was that even though her stomach churned with aggravation, Elizabeth could not deny that she still found him attractive. Almost against her will, she watched that pulsing muscle and wondered what it would feel like beneath her fingers. Was the dark stubble along his cheek rough, as it appeared, or would it be soft against her palm? What would she do if at this very moment he turned to her and took her in a passionate embrace?

  Why, enjoy it, of course. She had no will to do otherwise.

  Rot, but that was definitely a problem. One for which she had no answer. Especially when Raynor had proved himself completely adept at resisting her.

  Determinedly Elizabeth pulled her scattered thoughts to her. All that aside, what she could do was let Raynor know that he must treat her with at least a modicum of respect, if nothing else.

  Regaining her former smile, Elizabeth turned to him, not speaking until he looked directly into her eyes. Her tone was oh-so-reasonable as she began, and for a moment he did not seem to understand that she was defying him. “My dear lord, I must assure you that I do appreciate your concern for me. Especially as I have not seen any evidence of such until this very day. In other circumstances, I would be most gratified by your care.” She paused. “But as things are, I must assure you that I can, and will, do as I please in this matter. As I told you the day we raced, my father first set me upon a horse at the age of two, and I have been riding since. I make no false claim when I say that I can outride any man I know, including my brothers, who are no unskilled horsemen. Any one of them will uphold this claim, do you but ask them. And lastly, after the way you treated your own mount the other day, jumping him over that fallen bridge, I feel you have little right to lesson me on such a point.”

  As she spoke, Raynor’s scowl returned full measure and more. His chest expanded until she thought the material of his brown tunic would surely burst. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the rest of his uneaten meat away and rose to stand before her. “Of course, madame, you must do as you will. As you did the night you had me to dine and Stephen came in upon us together. Your will has certainly proved to be best thus far. Why would you change your ways at this point in time?”

  Elizabeth gasped as the remarks stung sharply. She stood before him, her voice rising to match his. “We have already discussed that matter, sir. I have already told you I was not trying to trap you, and my word should suffice. Why, I wouldn’t have you on a wager.”

  A loud laugh rang out, and Elizabeth looked over to the other occupants of the camp, who were watching them with unabashed curiosity. It was Bronic who was laughing, and when her gaze met his, he winked.

  Seeing they were being studied with such openness, Raynor called out, “Have none of you anything to do? If I try, I may surely find things to occupy you.”

  But even as the men turned away with sheepish grins, Raynor took her by the elbow and led her into the forest away from their prying eyes.

  Immediately he came back with a scathing reply to her last comment. “Oh, I do believe you, Elizabeth. You've made your dissatisfaction with our union quite clear.” He leaned over her. “I just make the point of indicating how capable you are of deciding what is best for yourself.”

  She put her hands to her slender hips. “You know nothing of me. What has gone between us is no indicator of my character or ability to make judgments.”

  “And thus I must go by what I see with my own eyes.” His tone was rife with scorn.

  She was getting very angry now, though she tried to hide it. Not for anything on God’s green earth would she let him see how much he had hurt her. The worst part of it, what made tears sting behind her eyes, was that he was too near the mark. Since meeting Raynor, she had not been herself, and had made several irretrievable mistakes. The worst of which had led to their unwanted marriage.

  He went on, seemingly oblivious of her attempts to stay reasonably calm, beside himself with outrage. “You women, you think of nothing beyond your own desires. My mother was one such as you. She lead my father a merry dance, thither and yon. He was as a puppet in her hands. She had only to flutter her eye lashes and sway her hips and he would come running like a studhorse. Even when she became pregnant by a man she refused to name, then gave birth to Bronic while he was in France, he had no strength to turn her away. And was she thankful for his love and forgiveness? Nay, on the contrary. She never forgave him for his weakness, using his care for her to ever gain her own way.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes grew wider as he spoke. There was too much to take in, not the least of which was hearing that Raynor and Bronic were brothers. But she had to first focus on the revelation about his mother. Finally she was able to understand some of her husband’s strange attitude toward women. She reached out to him. “Raynor.”

  But he brushed her hand aside, turning his back to her. “Nay, I need no gestures of sympathy from you.”

  She tried again. “Raynor, please. I want to understand. I had no idea...”

  “And if I had been in my right mind, you would not even now. I am a fool for telling you all this.” He pounded his fist against his open palm. “I know not how you do it. How you slither beneath my skin. But I won’t allow you to keep manipulating me thus. I left that all behind me years ago, when my mother died. And even she, try as she would, could not needle me as you do. I won’t have it just because some overindulged damsel can’t see there are consequences to her words and actions.”

  He swung around to face he
r. “You will try to think about how your behavior might influence others in the future. It is not a request, but a demand.”

  She clenched her teeth, stamping her foot. He had gone too far. “How dare you! How dare you! You insufferable knave! I will not be ordered by you!”

  Raynor simply stood staring down at her, his nostrils flared, as he fought for control.

  Even as her mind blazed red with outrage, Elizabeth tried to regain her equilibrium. She knew there was something she must think of, something more important than the fact that Raynor had given orders he had no power to uphold. Not in her deepest nightmares would she ever take such ridiculous talk seriously. And she knew that in the rational part of his mind Raynor was aware of that fact.

  What was bothering him most, what had made him speak so harshly, was what he had just told her. He had given her a glimpse, no matter how small, of the man inside.

  After what she’d just learned about his past, Elizabeth realized that Raynor must be completely unnerved to think she might use what she’d just heard against him.

  Battling hard with her own anger and hurt pride, Elizabeth took deep, calming breaths. If they were to have any hope for even civility between them in the future, she must go carefully now.

  Elizabeth didn’t know how to react. She needed time to think about what he had said, but that was a luxury she did not possess.

  All she could do was try to make him see that she would treat these personal revelations gently.

  It was most important for him to understand that she would not use this confidence to gain some kind of power over him. Elizabeth hesitated, began to reach out again, then pulled her hand back. “Raynor, about what you just told me...”

  He held himself very still, his gaze directed over her head. “Do not put too much importance on what I said. It means nothing.” Clearly he wished for nothing so much as for her to stop talking of the matter, to stop trying to further worm her way into his confidence.

  But she could see by the pain in his eyes that the words were not true, and her heart ached at the loneliness of this man. She remembered the first time she had seen him, and how she had likened him to a wolf.

  She became aware of the darkening shadows of the forest around them, the soft rusting of the spruce, pine and oak trees as they welcomed the approaching coolness of night. The dense green growth of underbrush offered cover for all manner of creatures, from deer to mouse. Over all lay a sense of restlessness, the same restlessness she sensed in Raynor. Here he was in his element. Dressed in forest colors, with his hair tousled and that faraway expression in his walnut eyes, the lupine image was very strong. Raynor was the lone beast who roamed the forest for sustenance, rest and, mayhap, solace in another of his kind.

  Was it possible that she could be that one?

  Elizabeth dismissed the notion as soon as it formed in her mind. And yet that ready denial was strangely distressing.

  Almost as if she had no control of her tongue, Elizabeth spoke from the depths of her, knowing that she risked calling up his fury anew. “I...I don’t know what to say, Raynor. I find I know so very little of you. I cannot imagine what it must have been like to grow up that way. And yet you have gone beyond it. I am most moved that you would treat Bronic with the love you do, considering the circumstances of his birth.”

  Raynor looked surprised that she had focused on this, of all the things he had said. He took several deep breaths, his gaze trained on the thick humus on the forest floor. Then, to her complete amazement, he raised his head, raking a hand through his thick hair, and replied, “I cannot hold the sins of my mother against my brother. Bronic had no more say in his begetting than any other child.”

  “Nonetheless I must tell you that I am honored to call such a man husband,” she told him, with clear blue eyes open wide. “Not many would be able to accept such a thing with such kindness.”

  He only stared at her for a long time, his gaze confused and a little thoughtful. She went on cautiously, knowing she would be treading on treacherous ground with her next comment. But Elizabeth had wondered about his daughter since hearing of her. She would now be the three-year-old’s mother. “It must also be thus with your child, else why would you go to such lengths to claim her? I admire your determination to proclaim her yours.” Even as she spoke, his expression changed, became guarded and remote, as usual.

  Elizabeth felt like stamping her foot, but she knew it would serve no purpose to let him see how frustrated she was. Was it because she had referred to him as husband again? Or was it because he didn’t wish her to speak of his daughter?

  “What you think of me, ill or good, has no bearing,” he said in a monotone.

  “But why must it be this way?” she asked. “We have to try to get to know each other. To make a marriage.”

  His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, and he refused to look at her. “We do not.” Without another word, he walked away, deeper into the forest. The stiff set of his back told her clearly that she was not to follow. He would have none of her.

  No longer could she contain herself. She stamped her foot in utter frustration as she watched him go.

  No man had ever been more difficult than Raynor Warwicke. Though at least now she had some notion of why he seemed to resent not only her, but all women, so much. He’d watched his mother destroy his father.

  Why could he not see that she was not like his mother? She would not try to control any man to further her own ends. It was completely repugnant to her even to think of such a thing, when she knew that if the situation was reversed such a life would destroy her.

  And if he could come to see that, why could they not have a marriage? They were wed, like it or nay. It could only serve them both to try to come to accept that. Even a marriage without love could know some peace, or even friendship.

  Elizabeth did not ask for love. She knew better. But surely Raynor could be made to see that she was herself, and unlike any other. Now that she knew the root of the problem, Elizabeth was even more determined to work toward something more amicable than the combative state they currently knew.

  * * *

  Raynor did not look back as he went unheeding into the depths of the wood. He would not allow himself to do so. He needed to put some distance between himself and the witch he called wife.

  What was happening to him? It was as if he lost his mind when he looked into those wide blue eyes. She seemed to be able to make him say things he’d never thought to tell a living soul. It was as if she managed to somehow get past the barriers he kept between himself and other people.

  Not even Bronic knew how much his mother’s manipulative nature had affected him.

  Why had Elizabeth come to disrupt the life he had made?

  He was proud of himself and the things he had accomplished. His father had run the lands to ruin in order to provide all the things his mother demanded. Through wise management, Raynor had renewed their prosperity. And not on the backs of his villeins.

  He was a fair and conscientious manager of his lands and people. He was skilled at warfare and confident of his ability to protect what was his.

  And as far as women were concerned, Raynor did not hate them, he only knew what was truth. The women he did take to his bed were infinitely more loving and passionate when he purchased them some bauble, or gave them a piece of silver.

  He simply would not allow himself to become close to one. Though when he did take a woman into his bed, he was thoughtful of her pleasure, as well as his own.

  In all save being able to freely give his heart and trust, Raynor felt confident and in control. And he would not risk that control, that autonomy, for a woman.

  Not even one as beautiful and strangely compelling as Elizabeth. A woman who had seen his love and friendship for his illegitimate brother for what it was, and not thought him weak for caring.

  For one mad moment, that had given him pause, made him wonder if Elizabeth was indeed different.

  But then he’d
recovered himself, when she asked about Willow. He was certain his wife would feel differently about that situation. Though she professed interest in the child, her concern was surely an act. Even the most tolerant of gentlewomen had little sympathy for their husbands' illegitimate offspring.

  Surely she was simply playing to his obvious sensitivity in this area. She was intelligent enough to do so, of that he’d seen much evidence.

  Elizabeth sought only to sway him with her soft words. Then, when he cared for her, when his will was no longer his own, she would use his love to get what she desired.

  Else why would she make the effort to get to know him better? There was no other explanation.

  It could not be because she held any regard for him. She’d made her distaste abundantly clear when she told him she had not tried to trap him into marriage.