Now he had to see to the arrangements. The priest would have to be discreet. Luckily, the man who served the family in that capacity had done so for years and considered William like a son.
“Leah, can you see that my bride is properly prepared—without her knowledge, of course.”
“Certainly, dear brother. Aught else? Shall I grow wings and fly? Or mayhap I can put her into a trance and she will obey your every desire. Would that please you?”
“You have made your point, Leah. But whether you approve or not, I will marry her on the morrow. I beg you to support me in this.”
“I love you, William.” She breathed a sigh. “I will do as you ask, even if it is against my better judgment. And I will try to make the road easier for her.”
“What would I do without you?”
“God only knows.”
CHAPTER 6
Dariana was exhausted but could not find solace in sleep. She tossed and turned throughout the night, dozing fitfully, then awakening when horrific images of executions filled her dreams. She must find a way to return to her cottage, where it was safe, but at the same time, she must ensure these people would not betray her.
She could walk or ride if they would lend her a horse. Yes, that was the solution. She would appeal to their sense of decency so she could return to her sanctuary. William and his dear sister could not possibly wish to put themselves at risk when the solution was so clear: to simply forget she ever existed.
But, then, why would William have brought her here? To what end? He had nothing to gain. He could not possibly think to claim her father’s holdings without the wrath of the king falling about him. He had said she had bewitched him, but that was the silly speech so often spoken by courtiers, with no meaning. So what did he hope to gain?
When the dawn painted the bright colors of blue and pink and orange across the sky, she watched the moving palette change, hoping the serenity of the beauty would ease her mind and give her the answers she sought.
Still confused, Dariana rose and dressed in one of Leah’s beautiful dresses. It was a soft blue and the silken feel of it was heaven. She pinched her cheeks to distract from the dark smudges that must be beneath her eyes. She tied her hair with a bright ribbon and left her room in search of food. It was early and she didn’t expect the rest of the household to be up, but it seemed all were busy and bustling about. She stopped at the base of the steps and watched the flurry of activity, wondering if this was common practice. Before she could wonder overmuch, William was beside her, taking her elbow and leading her away from the main room and down a corridor. It opened onto a small room that appeared to be used as the family chapel. She went to the altar with him unresisting, neither fearful nor apprehensive, since she was loath to admit the truth: she liked his touch. She was so preoccupied and hazy from lack of sleep that she failed to notice the priest until she was before him. It took a moment for the import to sink in. Then she was filled with panic.
William tightened his grip on her arm and moved his other hand to her waist, forcing her body against his. She turned to face him. “You dare not!” she hissed, reaching to his face to rake him with her nails. He deftly avoided the attack and grabbed her wrist, prepared since she had every right to be angry. She trembled, feeling much like a trapped animal with nowhere to run.
He leaned his head down, his mouth against her ear. “Listen to me. I will marry you. There is no other way. Do not make it more difficult. I have made a vow to protect you, and this is truly the answer to your woes. When you are my wife, the king will be unwilling to take any retribution. That and the fact that your betrothal had been rescinded seems the perfect solution to keep you safe.”
It took a moment for his words to penetrate, but suddenly she was filled with understanding and disbelief. “My betrothal was what?” she shrieked.
“Lower your voice. The priest has no need to know more than is necessary.”
“Answer me,” she said more quietly. “What news is this? Is it because I was ‘dead’? Or did it happen for another reason?”
“The king’s father rescinded it almost immediately for reasons of his own, but it was too late. There was no way to alter the course you had taken, especially since all believed you had died. Still, you did disobey the king and there are consequences for that action. As my wife, you will be shielded from the king’s wrath. I am blessed to be among his favorites and that is to our advantage now.”
Dariana wondered if all he said was, in fact, true. She felt the fury nearly tighten her throat. “Could you not have told me before this? Could you give me no proper warning?” She kept her voice at a whisper lest the priest hear the exchange. “Did you have to trick me? Did you fear I would reject your suit or fly from you?”
William remained calm, his tone mater-of-fact. “I saw no reason to drag out the waiting. Just speak your vows properly so we can get on with our union.”
“Oh, yes, but you shall need the blessing far more than I. Only God will help you after this day.”
“Do not make threats, love. I know you to be strong and full of courage, but I do not think you a fool. You shall be my wife and, if you are not happy in the role, I will see to your comfort and any contentment you will allow. More than that, I will see you safe as promised. And now, the priest waits.”
Dariana knelt beside William in front of the holy man; the vows were properly exchanged, then the papers signed. She kept her eyes downcast throughout, not daring to look at her new husband lest her gaze betray her feelings of rage and resentment. Her husband now controlled her and she would give him nothing unless forced, not even the truth of her feelings. There could be no more thoughts of escape. Trapped. It was a terrible feeling. Her throat was tight, her tears unshed. Dariana closed her eyes and prayed for strength.
The ceremony done, they moved to the main hall to eat. She glanced at William as they were breaking their fast and had to grudgingly admit she could not have chosen any man with more perfection of form. She might even have fallen in love with him, but now her fury coiled deep within her, forcing out any possible loving feelings.
He had placed a gold ring on her finger. The metal glittered in the morning light, making her ache for the wedding she had dreamed of since she was a girl. That dream had dissolved with the intervention of the king and now this earl. Together they had destroyed her hopes and left an emptiness behind. Yet, as furious as she was, Dariana could not deny the prospect of marriage to this man was not exactly a sentence of death.
She felt his gaze on her. Dariana refused to give him the satisfaction of looking back. How could he not understand her resentment? He reached over to stroke her hand. Dariana pulled back as if burned. In fact, his touch did burn. She must strengthen her resolve. She would not forgive him.
The meal done, a few quiet toasts made, the priest took his leave. William went to attend to the business of running a castle. Dariana remained at the table, her thoughts swirling in her head. Only a few days ago, she had been free as the birds of the forest and removed from the politics and intrigues of court. Now, suddenly, she was the wife of an earl and had to deal with the consequences. The truth, once revealed, would keep the court gossips talking for months. To say nothing of the king’s response. That mater must be handled carefully and with diplomacy lest the king seek retribution for her rebellion. If William was indeed one of his favorites and his loyalty was never in question, the king could still be motivated by moods. There was no certainty of the result. In the meantime, Dariana had no choice but to let it play out.
Leah reached for her hand. “Come with me,” she said. “You are mistress of the manor now. I need to show you about and we must get you measured for some proper dresses.”
The desire to resist gone for now, Dariana followed Leah through the castle, listening to her explanations and descriptions as if in a haze. She nodded as they moved about, but most of what Leah said slipped past.
Soon the day was spent. Dariana was led to the table to partake
of the evening meal. A trencher was placed before her, but her appetite was gone. William, beside her, ate with gusto while she hardly touched her meat or vegetables. The wine, however, was a different story. Dariana had tasted no wine for a year and the play of it on her tongue was so warming and pleasant that she drank deeply of it. She was on her third cup of the heady stuff when hands touched her shoulders.
“It’s time to ready you for bed, Dariana,” Leah said. “I shall help you.”
Dariana, her earlier tension and resentment eased by the spirits, followed Leah meekly. She was led to the room she had slept in the night before and it occurred to her that this was the master’s bedchamber. William had not slept here yesterday, but now it was to be theirs. Leah had dismissed the maids and was helping her undress. “I do like this room, you know. It’s nothing like my own, but it is quite nice. I am glad it will be mine. Ours…” She giggled at the word.
“I expected protest. Just how much wine did you drink?”
“Drink? Oh, yes. I’d like another drink. I’ve acquired a burning thirst.”
Leah slipped a soft, airy gown over her head. “Yes and you’ll acquire a burning pain in your head come morning if you have more. Just lie down and rest.” She led Dariana to the bed and pulled back the sheets. Dariana did as she was bidden. “William will join you soon.” Leah covered her and left the room.
“That’s nice,” Dariana replied to no one, sinking into the welcoming bed. She let herself drift into sleep.
A while later, William entered the bedchamber and moved over to the bed. Years of war training had taught him how to approach soundlessly. He looked down onto his wife’s sleeping countenance and whistled between his teeth. She was a most breathtaking sight, with the inky blackness of her hair spread on the pillow like a dark, lacy fan and the perfection of her face. Her breathing was even. William knew her to be deep in sleep. He leaned over to place a soft kiss upon her brow, but no sooner had his lips touched the warmth of her skin than a wild thing replaced the innocent creature before him. Hands, claws bared, reached up to rake his face and knees drove into his belly, forcing the air from his lungs.
Almost before he could react, she had lunged forward and knocked him onto the bed and thrown herself on top of him, her breasts heaving with exertion. The sight of her in the sheer sleeping gown made what was left of his breath catch in his throat. His manhood tightened as desire flooded him. He tried to calm her, caress her soft skin, until it penetrated his brain, confused as it was with lust, that she was sobbing and her cries were mingled with gasps of air. She was snared in the depths of some nightmarish vision, still deeply asleep, but nonetheless terrified and fighting for her very life.
“Dariana, waken,” he whispered. “Waken.”
Her eyes opened, a look of panic caught in their depths, and then, recognizing him, she flung herself into his arms. William held her and began to stroke her back, quieting her until the sobs eased. After a few moments, she spoke very softly. “I dream it often. I am in the forest and a man sneaks into my cottage. He is intent on my death. I try to escape, but his body pinions me, threatening suffocation. I have a knife with me and God guides my hand. I strike out with the blade and he falls upon me, dead, his blood soaking me as though it were my own.” She shuddered. “I had spent many days and nights alone, but I was not afraid until the day the first nightmare came. I knew I was on my own and could call on no one to aid me if there was danger. It was my punishment and I was powerless. The dream haunts me.”
Suddenly, she seemed to gather her wits and pulled back to stare at him. She realized she was in his arms, nearly naked, and quickly grabbed the sheet to cover her breasts, blushing furiously. “I should not have told you that story. And my head. It aches so. Why did you wake me? Do you require something, my lord?” Her voice was now edged with irritation.
“I had come to consummate our vows, dear wife, but you were sleeping peacefully. I believe you drank too much wine. I sought to leave you to your rest, but you came at me like some wild thing and then began to cry. But now that you’re fully awake, perhaps I can indulge my original pursuit.” He tried to be seductive, but he could tell from the glare in her eyes that he was failing. After a moment, she softened her gaze. “Be kind, William. My head throbs. Have a care for my pain. Do not speak so loudly.”
Was she truly trying to dissuade him with that excuse? “You survive alone in the forest, but a mere bit of wine overcomes you?” His voice softened. “I promise no one will harm you.”
“But you have harmed me, my lord.”
“Listen, my dear wife. You mock me once too often. I have come to consummate our vows and I shall see it done.”
“Whether I agree or not? Without a word of love? Well, I shall not make your task any the easier.”
“Words of love? Would those once spoken penetrate the ice of your heart?” His voice had risen; he was annoyed with himself. He fought for control.
“My heart? At least I have a heart. I would not drag someone from her home and force her into a marriage she did not desire. You are a selfish, heartless ass.”
“And you, dear girl, are a fool. Drag you from your home? A hovel in the forest? Hiding like a criminal. Living like a servant instead of the gentle-born girl you are? You should praise God I came to you when I did, before you were mangled by wild animals or worse.”
“I managed to survive without you. If you recall, it was I who saved you, not the other way around.” Her cheeks were crimson with her fury and she stiffened her spine, causing the sheet to drop slightly and reveal the tops of her creamy breasts.
“I will not force you. It goes against my nature. But, woman, I want you as I have never wanted anything before in my life. We are husband and wife. Can you not try?”
Inflamed beyond control by her nakedness, William pushed her back onto the soft, welcoming bed and hovered over her. His lips came down and crushed her mouth, seeking, moving, tasting her sweetness as he stripped his clothes from his body and tossed them to the floor. She lay beneath him, unresponsive. He was desperate to be inside her, but he forced his logic to intercede. The first time would be the time remembered. He could not rape her. Would not. He reached deep for control. He caressed her arms, her waist. He moved to her breasts, teasing the nipples to hardness, then lightly tasting the soft, pink peaks. She moaned with pleasure, but still remained rigid. He ached for her, but he wanted to convince her of his feelings. He needed her to desire him. “I know you are angry. I, too, would be. Please, Dariana—please let me love you. I have been high-handed and it is too late for wooing. If you can find it in your heart to give me a small space, I will be ever your slave.”
His words must have touched her, since he saw a tear drop to the coverlet. She swallowed and lifted her arms, wrapping her fingers in his hair and pulling him down to her.
Encouraged, he moved all over her body, exploring it, working to arouse her pleasure, massaging ribs and stroking legs. He slid his fingers between her thighs and touched the curls nestled there. She was damp with desire and breathless now. He slid his fingers inside, while teasing the hard knot of pleasure at the opening of her sex. She thrust her hips against his hand. He moved his head down and his tongue replaced his finger, caressing, licking. At the moment he thought he could bear no more, he started over on to her lips. He kissed her, demanding all. She thrust her hips against his hardness, rising, pressing. With nearly unbearable control, he slid himself inside her, moving slowly. He felt her wince, then relax and match his rhythm, measure for measure. Together, they rode the sea of ecstasy and allowed the all-consuming conflagration that erased all else from the universe. There was only the dance, the rhythm, building higher and higher until it exploded in a bursting of white stars.
Finally, sated, they slept, their limbs still intertwined, her hair wrapped across his shoulders like a coverlet of silk.
CHAPTER 7
Dariana opened her eyes. The stabbing early morning light filtered through the colored window glass a
nd changed the indistinguishable shapes of the chamber into chairs and a table. She was aware of a throbbing in her head and an emptiness in her stomach when she remembered she had not eaten a proper meal in what seemed like forever. The evening past she had had her share of the wine, though. She also recalled the passion shared with William. Blood heated her cheeks at the thought. If she had but known the pleasures a man could offer, she might not have resisted her husband at all, but instead might have encouraged him. She tried to recall her anger. He had forced her into marriage, but it was foolish to hold to ire on principle. She’d wanted him from the first. She’d missed him when he was gone from the forest and had been delighted when he returned for her. There was no point to her fury now. She desired him. Love? Lust? She was ashamed by her wanton thoughts. She eased herself away from the man who was her husband. She forced her thoughts to other things. Dariana was hoping the servants would be about so she could get some bread or cheese to quiet the gnawing in her stomach.
She was attempting to extricate herself from the bed when she realized her hair was entangled about him. Trying not to waken him, she tugged at the hair that held her captive. It was not easy work. Dariana was growing frustrated, especially when it seemed disengaging herself would take all morning. Her hunger was growing more insistent by the minute.
So intent was she on her labor, she was startled when William laughed. “Having trouble, my love?”
“Get of my hair.”
“Now, now, sweeten your tongue or I shall stay here forever.” His eyes traveled to her exposed breasts. He reached out a hand to stroke one delicate pink peak.
“Take your hand of me and release my hair.” She felt the weight of the indignity of it all and was prepared for no more. But, she reasoned, a little bit of sugar might not hurt, if it accomplished her goal. “Please.”
The Defiant Bride Page 6
