She started, her gaze going to Raine. “My lady—”
“Will be fine.” His tone, though still low and calm, brooked no argument.
Aida scuttled toward the door. As she passed within inches of him on her way out, he leaned over and spoke in a confiding tone. “That was a very fine performance you gave, if I do say so myself.”
She raised horrified eyes to his now grim face. “My lord, I—”
“Out!”
Benedict slammed the portal behind her and took a deep breath, hoping to ease the pounding blood in his head before turning to face Raine.
She tilted her chin. “You will please refrain from harassing my maid. She has been with us since my mother died. She is certainly flighty at times, especially so since father’s death, but loves us as if we were her own.”
He looked at the woman in the bed for a very long time. He was somewhat moved by her concern for the maid when she would be wiser to concern herself with the trouble that might come to her own pretty head, but had no intention of letting her know that.
He could actually see very little of the wench with the coverlet pulled up the way it was, but he was able to read the determination and defiance in her eyes. Benedict was quite aware of the fact that he had been duped by this woman and her servant. Why, he did not know, but he had every intention of getting to the bottom of it, no matter how reluctant this red-haired she-devil might be to share her motives with him.
Though he had never been with a virgin, Benedict was quite aware that there was far too much blood here. And that screeching the maid had done had certainly been in aid of bringing as many witnesses as possible. He could still feel his ears ringing now that she was gone.
And Raine Blanchett was the one who could answer why. He approached the bed with deliberation.
Raine drew back as far from him as she could. “Do not touch me.”
He could hardly believe the audacity of her to tell him not to touch her after what she had done. Benedict was not a violent man where women and children were concerned. But this damsel had driven him beyond all reason and restraint.
Without pausing to think, he reached out and grabbed her arm, half dragging her across the bed. “You are not in a position to give any orders here, madam. I will do so, and the first order of the day is for you to tell me right now and in full detail why you have concocted this elaborate scheme to make it appear as if I have bedded you!”
Only the delicate flaring of her nostrils as she met his eyes, her own wide with feigned innocence, gave away her agitation. “But you did bed me, my lord. You have the proof of it there.”
He was only slightly mollified that she had the grace to blush as she indicated the bloody sheet. He shook his head. “There is enough blood here to have butchered an ox in this bed.” It was an exaggeration, he knew, but as likely as the explanation she suggested.
He could see the wheels turning in the wench’s mind. Benedict stopped her before she could even try to prevaricate. “And make no mistake, you will not convince me that I have caused you to bleed so profusely. I have never in my life bedded any woman and hurt her thus, nor have I ever been completely oblivious of such an event afterward. The last thing I recall was becoming dizzy after taking the wine you insisted I drink. I am not so great a lover that I am able to perform while unconscious.”
A scarlet-faced Raine looked down at her tightly folded arms. Benedict waited.
At last she raised her head and met his gaze. He was not pleased at the way his chest tightened at the tears glittering in her golden eyes. “You are right, my lord. I did trick you. I did drug you and you did not touch me.”
The utter defeat in her tone only served to move him further as she went on. “I will tell the truth to all who saw us here this morn.”
Not only was he moved by her despair, Benedict was also shocked at her complete capitulation in telling him the truth. In spite of his warning for her not to prevaricate further, he had fully expected her to try to defend her actions, at the very least.
He ran a hand over his face and up through his hair. His jaw was covered with rough stubble and he was sure he must have looked like a madman to the folk who had gathered in the door of the chamber, standing there in a blood-covered sheet, his hair, unruly at the best of times, standing on end.
Yet that was the least of his worries now. He sank down on the end of the bed. “Tell me why you did this.”
Raine raised her chin. “I felt I had no choice. I tried to gain your attention in the usual way but you seemed to have no interest in me.”
Benedict gave a rueful laugh. He had been attracted to her, but he had no wish to admit as much. “Why me? I am not the sort of man who would draw the interest of a beautiful young girl.”
She looked at him with obvious surprise and finally said, “Why do you think that I would not be interested in you? You were everything that I was looking for—strong, honorable, kind. I needed someone who would see to my brother and his interests without fear of supplanting him, or worse, which was exactly what Cousin Denley would have done. William’s holdings are the reason for his diligent pursuit of me. And what I told you of his attempting to force himself upon me yesterday—” her contrite and open gaze met his “—that was truth. It made me realize I could not continue to hope I would find a man who would afford me the protection of his name, and thus William, before it was too late.”
At her open admission of wanting him for what she considered his more noble qualities alone, Benedict felt an unexpected regret. He gave a mental shrug. He had not expected a young and lovely woman like her to have become infatuated with him for any personal reason.
He brushed such thoughts aside. “Again I ask, why me? What made you think I would look after you and your brother without taking something for myself?”
“I lied, you know, when I told you that I had been closed inside the king’s chamber inadvertently.” In her agitation she rose up on her knees, her fiery auburn hair tumbling about her slender white shoulders in wild disarray, and Benedict was hard-pressed to recall the fact that she did not want him in any personal way.
He was not surprised to learn that she had lied to him, but continued to be somewhat shocked that now she had been found out, Raine was eager to admit it all, and so openly. It was almost as if she could not stop herself.
What a strange, impulsive creature she seemed. Exactly the opposite of the woman he had imagined for himself—for Brackenmoore.
He forced himself to attend what she was saying. “You were so worried about the honor of your brother’s wife that day, protective of her and her child. I wanted someone who would look after William that way. You see, he is gentle and small for his age. Besides needing someone to look to his lands until he is old enough to do so, he also requires gentle guidance. I felt you might be the one to give it. But I am no fool to believe the words a man speaks to a king. I talked with others, asked questions of all who knew of you, and none had a thing to say about you that contradicted my initial impression. Some said you were overstaid and responsible, but that did not trouble me.”
Benedict’s brows rose at what he felt was a less than flattering description of himself, but he made no comment. “I still do not see why you did not simply ask for my help. Why go to all of this effort at deception and cause us both such great embarrassment?”
She shrugged, with a frown of chagrin. “I did not think of it, never considered that you would help a strange woman with no familial ties to you. I knew only that I could not allow Denley to rape me and thus force a marriage. I could not allow him to gain control of all that my father had entrusted to me when he died. And truth to tell, I do not believe I would have asked that of you if I had considered it. Denley would have felt free to press his suit as long as I was unwed.” She shrugged again. “I do not know how you can doubt me on that score after having met him, seen his determination.”
Benedict grimaced. He could not argue the point. “The man does seem completely blind
to all but the way he wishes to view things.”
Raine nodded. “Precisely.”
Though he did agree with her on that one matter, Benedict could not allow her to think he was dismissing the sheer madness of her actions. “Even saying that, I cannot forget your own disregard for the feelings of others, namely myself.”
She had the grace to flush scarlet, though he could tell by the way she tilted that finely shaped nose of hers that she resented his words. “Disregarding your feelings is not what I was trying to do.”
“Yet you did do it and we now find ourselves in this predicament.” His gaze went to the closed doorway. In spite of his sending all of them away, Benedict knew that there were questions that would need be answered in order to have any hope of salvaging Raine’s honor. No matter what he or she said now, things would never be as they had been. Too many people had seen them here together, witnessed the blood on the sheet.
Most of them would not stop to think about the ludicrous amount of blood, nor any other facts, even if the truth were told to them. But that was not his fault. It was not he who had brought this upon Raine’s head. She had.
Hadn’t she?
He stood and looked about the chamber. “Where are my clothes?”
She frowned and pointed toward the chest at the end of the bed.
He was somewhat surprised to see how neatly she had folded them atop her own equally neatly kept garments. He would not have thought her so tidy.
Immediately Benedict began to dress. He paid no attention to Raine other than turning his back. Any further show of modesty would be pointless. He was certain that she was the one who had undressed him, so there was really no point in attempting to hide himself from her.
He heard the rustle of her movements as she rose from the bed behind him. She did not speak until he had finished putting on his houppelande, which told him that she had made note of his progress in dressing.
When she addressed him, the regret in her voice made him turn and look at her bent head closely. “I am very sorry, my lord, for the trouble I have brought you.”
She then raised her gaze to his, even as she wrapped her arms all the more tightly around the waist of the green velvet robe she had donned. “Yet I must admit that I would do it all again. I love my brother and promised my father that I would look after him no matter what. Given my thought process, I could not have done other than what I did.”
Benedict sighed, sympathy for her again rising inside him in spite of the fact that she was at fault here. He was distracted from having to answer by a soft scratching at the door.
His gaze met Raine’s as she called out with forced composure. “Who is there?”
A hesitant voice replied, “William.”
The regret that stabbed him as chagrin and sadness filled her golden eyes surprised and worried Benedict. Wanting to give himself anything to think about other than his disturbing reaction, he strode forward to open the door.
Chapter Four
The first thing Benedict noted about the young boy standing there was his heavy thatch of dark brown hair, which bore definite auburn undertones. It made his pale face, dominated by a pair of green eyes, seem somewhat small. Those eyes, though not nearly so translucent as Raine’s, made Benedict realize this could be none other than her brother. The lad’s hesitant but clearly concerned gaze first raked Benedict with uncertainty, then searched out his sister. When he saw her there in her robe, he pushed past Benedict to her side.
Benedict closed the door, then turned to watch the two. Raine avoided looking at him as she put her arms around her brother. Quickly the boy pushed back, his eyes searching hers as he murmured, “Oh Raine, is it true what people are saying? That you…”
She met his gaze unflinchingly, clearly putting aside her own concerns in an effort to soothe her brother. As she spoke, Benedict felt an unexpected stirring of respect. “Do not worry about what others say, but always first ask me for the truth. Besides, the opinions of these folk matter not in the least to us. We will soon be gone from here.”
The boy peered up at her, and Benedict could hear the relief that he tried to hide beneath a manly pose as he said, “I do not care what they might think. I was worried for you.” Then he added, his relieved tone giving away his youth and anxiety, “We are going home to Abbernathy?”
She ran a hand over his hair. “Aye.”
Benedict could not but be moved by this exchange. The love and care between them was more than obvious. He went toward them, speaking evenly. “You must be young William.”
The boy squared his slight shoulders, his gaze assessing. “And you are the man everyone is saying—”
Benedict interrupted wryly. “Yes, I suspect I am.”
William frowned, glancing at Raine. “Is it true what they are saying? That you and…this man—”
Again Benedict interrupted him. “Benedict Ainsworth.”
The boy nodded stiffly. “My lord Ainsworth.” His gaze met and held Benedict’s directly. “I hope you have not…the stories they are telling…Raine is my sister.”
Benedict could not fault him for his protectiveness toward Raine, but he had no wish to become involved in a conflict with the lad when he had committed no fault in this. He spoke evenly. “You must address me as Benedict.”
The young man frowned in frustration. His troubled gaze went back to Raine’s face. “Well, is it true what they are saying about you and Lord—you and Benedict?”
Meeting his gaze directly, she shook her head. “Nay, it is not, William. He did not touch me. Though I—”
For reasons that he could not explain, Benedict forestalled her. “Raine and I have done nothing untoward here. I simply had too much wine and fell asleep.” He was not certain why he felt the need to say that, to protect her. He’d simply had the feeling that she was about to reveal the whole of her crimes to her younger brother, and unaccountably, Benedict felt the need to spare her that. He told himself that there was no reason for the boy to know all. It could gain him nothing.
Glancing at Raine, he saw that she was watching him with surprise and, he thought, gratitude. When she noted his interest in herself she quickly turned to her brother. “You see, William, there is nothing to be concerned about. It has all been a misunderstanding.”
The relief on his young face could not have been more obvious. And Benedict was gladdened that he had acted upon the impulse to spare the boy. When Benedict’s parents had died on the return journey from visiting his aunt in Scotland, the raising of his own brothers had fallen to him. He had been eighteen, and the youngest of the three of them had been around the same age as the lad before him.
Benedict looked at Raine, who seemed determined to change the subject now as she asked, “Have you eaten, William?”
William flushed, glancing at Benedict and away. “Please do not fuss over me, Raine.” He shrugged, his gaze meeting the man’s then as if their maleness forged a bond between them. “She’s always wanting to know if I’ve eaten, thinks I’m too small.” He finished with a trace of defiance.
Benedict could see what this admission had cost him. He murmured, “One of my own brothers was quite small when he was your age. He’s nearly of a height with me now.”
William looked up at him in amazement. “Truly?”
Benedict nodded. “But it is also true that he has ever shown a hearty appetite. He would no more miss breaking his fast than a day of hunting, which I may tell you is no small matter in his mind.”
He could see that this information was being taken into account most seriously. William looked down at his own spare frame. “As you see, my lord, I am somewhat lacking in size, but you give me hope that it will not always be so.”
Benedict asked, “Was your father a small man?”
A shadow passed over the lad’s face at this mention of his father, but he answered evenly. “Nay, my lord, he was a tall man, though not so large in form as you.”
Benedict smiled with certainty. “Then all you n
eed do is eat. Nature will see to the rest.”
The boy frowned thoughtfully. Glancing over his head, Benedict saw that Raine was watching him with an equally thoughtful and surprisingly disappointed expression of her own. Yet what had she to be disappointed about? Other than her failed plans to force him into marriage with her.
Apparently William had read his sister’s expression as well, but interpreted it quite differently, for he said, “Enough of this talk of me. What are we going to do, my lord? Even if we leave the court, everyone believes you and Raine…” He looked toward her with a protective grimace.
Benedict shrugged. “I do not know, lad. Perhaps we will be able to devise some way to make all understand that she has done nothing to deserve their derision.”
William sighed, his wary gaze going to the bed, and Benedict wondered if someone had mentioned the bloodied sheet within his hearing. The fact that Benedict did not see the offending item told him Raine had surely stashed it out of sight while he was dressing. He was not sorry.
As the boy spoke softly, Benedict realized that her having done so had not lessened the damage that had already been done. “I do not think anyone will believe you now. They are saying that they saw—”
Benedict halted him. “As I said before, you need not trouble yourself. Things are not as they appeared.”
His face told Benedict that William desired, above all things, to believe him. But there was uncertainty in his eyes as the boy watched Raine sit down on the end of the bed, her gaze dark with sorrow. Benedict somehow knew she was far more concerned about the harm she might have done her brother in this than what would be said of her. He believed her assertions that she had done all of this in a misguided attempt to find a protector for the boy.
That did not excuse her actions.
But are you not a man, a soft voice exclaimed within, with the strength and authority to rebuke any who might attempt to dominate you? She has no such power.
William went on, and Benedict found himself listening to the young man very carefully. “It has been so hard these months since Father died.”
The Bride Of Spring Page 6
