The Bride Of Spring

by Catherine Archer

  Raine could not doubt his confidence. But she did not wish to depend upon him. As a child, she had depended upon her father, and he had failed her when she needed him most. Her father had depended upon and loved her mother with all his heart and she had died, though from no fault of her own. Raine put her hand over her breast. “You say that, but you do not know. When there is love or need one becomes vulnerable. I cannot allow myself such a weakness.”

  His face registered surprise and displeasure. “Do not think of such things as weakness, Raine. You are a woman and need not expect so much of yourself. I can be trusted to care for you and William.”

  She felt his words stab into her. He felt that love and need were fine for her, fine because she was a woman. It was equally clear that he did not feel that he, as a man, could afford such softer emotions.

  For reasons she dared not try to explain to him, this knowledge hurt. She realized she could not allow him to make love to her when he felt this way.

  “You must go.” She was not unaware of the fearful quaver in her voice.

  He looked at her for a very long moment, his expression unreadable, then spoke with utter conviction. “I will leave you now, but know this. The time is coming when I will have what is mine. And you will not wish to stop me.” He turned on his heel and left her.

  Raine did not sleep until the first rays of day were beginning to light the chamber, though the huge, richly hung bed could not be described as anything but comfortable. All she could think about was what they had done, she and Benedict, the things they had said. The way she had felt as he held her in his arms and kissed her, touched her.

  Even the angry exchange that had followed failed to wash it from her mind. When she woke her first thought was of Benedict and what he must think of her. A hot flush raced through her from head to toe. Her previous assertions that she did not want him seemed very foolish now.

  His parting words rang in her mind like a dirge. The fact that they were likely true only made things worse.

  God rot him! Each time he touched her it became more difficult to convince herself that she did not want him.

  With a groan of frustration she threw back the coverlet. Raine would not allow herself to languish here the whole day thinking of that insufferable man. He might be able to command her physical presence. He could not control her thoughts or her feelings.

  She opened one of the trunks that had been brought to her chambers the previous night. She paused then as a soft and hesitant knocking sounded at the door. Could Benedict have decided to pay her another unannounced visit? Her stomach churned with both anxiety and an anticipation that made her want to thrash herself. Her brows knitting even as her heart thudded, Raine swung around and watched as the portal opened slowly.

  An audible sigh of relief escaped her when she saw Aida peek around at her. Immediately Raine knew she had been foolish to wonder if it were her husband. He would never be so hesitant.

  The maid’s gaze quickly scanned the room, then came back to Raine. “You are alone, my lady?”

  Raine replied with a trace of impatience, “Of course. Where is William?”

  “He has eaten and gone off with your husband, my lady. Lord Benedict told us not to disturb you.”

  Had he now? Being of no mind to even discuss the matter, she beckoned. “Please come and help me dress.”

  The maid was just arranging her hair into two coiled braids when they were interrupted by a scraping at the door. This time Raine did not even consider that it might be Benedict. Well, not for more than the briefest moment as she called out, “Come.”

  The head woman, Maeve, entered with a large tray. She bowed respectfully. “My lady.”

  Raine nodded politely. “Good morrow.”

  The woman’s gaze was assessing as she said, “One of the servants told me they heard movement from inside your chamber. I was but awaiting your rising to bring you this.” She set down the laden tray, then went on. “After you have broken your fast, my lord Benedict has requested that I show you about the keep.”

  Raine was surprised at the stab of displeasure she felt at this. The blackguard could not even bother with his own newly wed wife. Immediately she reminded herself that she had not led him to believe he would be welcomed by her. It served neither of them for her to be unjust.

  Squaring her shoulders, Raine faced the too perceptive maid with a fixed and purposely amiable smile. She would not allow anyone to know how very much that insufferable man was able to vex her. The fact that he could do so without even trying only made matters worse. She nodded to the head woman. “I would appreciate your showing me about and am nearly ready. I would not keep you, though, if you have other duties.”

  Maeve bowed. “I would gladly await you, my lady.”

  There was nothing Raine could say but, “As you will.”

  Maeve glanced about the chamber. “You have found these accommodations comfortable?”

  Raine nodded, hoping that the servant did not intend to question her about requiring her own chambers. “Quite so.”

  The head woman only smiled. “I thought they would be more to your liking than Sabina’s, which are not as large.”

  Suddenly Raine was curious about Benedict’s family. She knew of Lily and Tristan after overhearing Benedict’s conversation with King Edward. The others remained a mystery. “Tell me of my husband’s family.”

  Maeve’s smile widened. “My lord Benedict has three brothers, Tristan, Marcel…” a brief shadow passed over her face, but Raine had little opportunity to wonder about it “…and Kendran, who was most surprised and pleased to learn of Benedict’s marriage when he went to his chamber and found William there.”

  “He did not mind taking him in?” Raine interjected.

  A hearty laugh escaped the older woman. “Nay, he did not. Benedict and the boy were both waiting there for him when he came back from, well…” She frowned with both disapproval and indulgence. “That one has far too fine a face, along with too heavy a measure of charm. But we shall not discuss that. In any event, when they told Kendran the news, Lord Benedict said he lifted the boy up in the air and hugged him, shouting that he was no longer the youngest Ainsworth male.”

  Raine heard the references to Kendran’s charm with a grimace. Someone in the family should definitely possess such a quality. But as the woman finished she stiffened briefly. William was not an Ainsworth. But she said nothing. She must be grateful that William would be treated well until they were able to go home. Which Raine could only hope would be soon, for the sake of her autonomy.

  She decided to change the subject. “Your lady Genevieve, will she be away for some time?”

  If Maeve felt this abruptness odd, she made no sign. “Aye, Lady Genevieve has gone with Lord Tristan and Lady Lily to his lodge, Molson. They will visit her family, who live nearby. Lady Genevieve did not wish to be without the child and went with them. Since Lord Marcel went away she has been…” She fell silent.

  Raine realized that there were things going on here that she did not understand.

  Aida, who had been listening along with Raine, kept casting anxious glances at the head woman. Maeve finally looked over at her and smiled. “Have you eaten yet?”

  Aida shook her head and Maeve smiled again. “Go down to the kitchen when you have a moment. Cook is baking some lovely pasties.”

  Again such kindness. Raine did not know how she felt about this. She was no less determined to go home, but was at the same time grateful that their stay here, however unwilling, would not be complete torment. And she was determined to go home. She would not fall beneath the control of Benedict Ainsworth no matter how his kisses made her feel.

  As soon as Aida finished the last touches to her hair, Raine patted her hand and said, “Go on now and eat.”

  As the maid left the chamber, Raine moved to the table. She would eat some of the food Maeve had brought to her in spite of the unrest that rolled in her belly. She would go on as if all was well. Yet the food ta
sted as she imagined sawdust might. Raine was not unaware of the head woman’s attention as she dropped the fresh bread back onto the tray after taking only a few small bites.

  She turned to Maeve with a regally raised head. Devil take them all. “I am ready to go now.”

  Maeve made no comment, preceding her to the door and holding it open with polite deference.

  As they moved down the long corridor, Maeve pointed out the doors along the hall and their usual occupants. Because she had no personal knowledge of who was being spoken of Raine could not have recalled which door lead to whose chamber until they came to the last in the row and she heard her husband’s name. Raine could not help looking at that portal with some misgiving. She was again conscious of the woman’s attention, but ignored it.

  All the time they spent in the keep Raine was infinitely conscious of the fact that this was Benedict’s environment. He was lord here, and every man, woman and child owed their complete allegiance to him. If their contented expressions were any indication, they gave it gladly. She was also aware of the curiosity that was directed toward herself as the head woman bowed and indicated that she was the new lady of the keep. Judging by their faces, none seemed astonished by the pronouncement. Raine was not surprised, knowing how quickly such news as this circulates a keep. Yet she wondered if they found it odd that Benedict was not the one to introduce her.

  It was not until they were outside the keep and exploring the grounds that she was finally able to relax somewhat. Benedict might indeed possess every brick and chair inside the keep. He did not own the air, nor the bright spring sunshine that streamed down from a cloudless blue sky. Nor did he own the song of the white gulls that circled overhead.

  The two women toured the kitchens, the buttery, the storerooms, the laundry. Raine could not help seeing that all was in perfect order, that the inhabitants applied themselves diligently to their work with happy chatter, which only ceased when she and Maeve came near.

  Although she was of no mind to think well of Benedict, she noted that his folk were contented and healthy. Their eyes and skin were clear, their garments clean and in good repair.

  The best thing about the time she and Maeve spent exploring the castle and grounds was that they had not once caught even the slightest glimpse of her husband. Perhaps, Raine thought with a sense of hope, he was not even about the keep. When Maeve asked if she was tiring, Raine replied with honesty, “Nay, not in the least. If there is more to see then let us go forth.”

  Maeve nodded with what appeared to be approval, and for some reason this made Raine feel less uncomfortable. Though the woman was a servant, Raine was not unmoved by her acceptance.

  They went on. At last they arrived at the stables, which they moved through slowly. Raine was impressed with the quality of horseflesh she found there. William was a great one for horses. It was an interest she indulged wholeheartedly, as he had inherited that love and his wily ways with the creatures from their father.

  As they exited the far end of the stables, Raine realized that they had come out on the edge of a wide, open field. That its purpose was that of arms practice was evidenced by various implements of battle. A list ran along the far end, arrow butts were arranged at the near end and a well-trampled patch in the center told the tale of regular arms practice.

  Yet it was not the purpose of the field that gave her pause. There, not more than fifty feet from them, were Benedict and her brother. It was not their presence but what they were about that made her stop and stare in surprise and concern. Benedict was engaged in teaching her brother the use of the sword.

  Even as she watched he pointed to the short sword her brother held, saying, “See here, William. Like this.” He made a slicing motion in the air with his own weapon.

  She watched as her brother imitated him.

  Benedict nodded. “Now come for me.”

  William raised his weapon and moved forward, but only halfheartedly.

  Benedict shook his head. “Nay, I mean in earnest. Hold nothing back.”

  William ran at him again, this time much more fiercely, his sword clanging against Benedict’s hastily raised weapon.

  Again Benedict halted him. “Nay, William. Forget that I am your brother. Imagine that I am come to Abbernathy, that I wish to take all that you hold dear.”

  William looked at him, understanding lighting his face with grave determination.

  A deep voice called out with undisguised amusement, “Go on then, Will. You cannot hurt Benedict.”

  Raine glanced toward the sound to see a tall young man leaning against an arrow butt, his own sword hanging loosely in his hand. By the thatch of raven hair that covered his head she could only surmise that this must be Benedict’s brother Kendran.

  She had no real interest in him at the moment, as her gaze went back to her brother and her husband. It was not Benedict that she was concerned for, but William. The man was so large, so powerful. One quick thrust of that gleaming sword could easily cleave her brother in twain.

  Yet Raine stood rooted to the spot, unable to give voice to the fear that made her stomach tighten and closed off her throat. This all happened so quickly that only as William charged at her husband with what seemed truly murderous intent did she cry out, “No!”

  The sound was lost in the clang of sword against sword. She was even further appalled when Benedict stepped back from the charge with a shout of, “Well done!”

  She cried out. “William!”

  Her brother swung around with a grin of sheer glee on his young face. “Did you see that, Raine? Did you see the way I went after Benedict?”

  His grin faded as she replied with displeasure, “I most certainly did.” She pointed to the sword he held as if it were a poisonous snake. “Put that thing down and come with me this instant.”

  Benedict’s incredulous voice asked, “What is—”

  Raine swung around to face her husband, interrupting before he could finish. “What were you thinking to put him in danger this way?”

  His too blue eyes widened. “In danger?”

  William ran over to stand before her, his face grown bright pink with embarrassment and annoyance. “What is the matter, Raine? I was in no danger. He is teaching me.”

  She dismissed this with a wave of her hand. “He had no right to do so without my consent.”

  William stuck out a stubborn chin. “I asked him myself. Kendran was practicing and I begged him to let me join in. It was Benedict who said I could not and that I must do so with him first so he might see what I knew.”

  Another male voice interjected, “No harm will be done to William here.” She saw that her husband’s brother had approached, his blue eyes slightly angry but more surprised as they met hers. “If there was any danger to anyone it was Benedict. He would let the boy run him through before he would land a blow upon him. He was the same with myself and my brothers. He still bears the scar I inflicted upon his chest. I am also sure that Tristan and Marcel have left their share. There is no man who would be more gentle and careful of your brother than your own husband, which I am sure you will see when he is more known to you.” Raine felt the weight of Maeve’s agreement, though the head woman said nothing.

  The reminder that she had indeed jumped so quickly to judge her own husband so harshly was painful. Especially when it appeared that she had done so wrongly.

  It was not in Raine’s nature to behave thusly. She felt even more frustrated at realizing she had allowed her own guilty feelings about what had occurred the previous night between herself and Benedict to affect her judgment.

  Though she did not look at him, Raine was aware when Benedict came close to her. Every fiber of her being felt him there, just out of reach. Each and every inch of the skin he had touched cried out in longing even as her mind tried to take control, to deny her reactions.

  When he spoke, his tone was far too controlled. “Why must you persist in naming me the villain at every turn?”

  For far too long sh
e was unable to find her voice, wishing with all her might that she could deny this. She could not. Her frowning gaze met her husband’s.

  Without another word, Benedict reached out and grasped her arm. Crying out in surprise, Raine was forced to follow him, nearly having to run in order to keep up with his long strides. She was aware of the attention of all they passed, yet no one dared meet her deliberately challenging gaze.

  He did not pause until he had reached her chamber. There he dragged her inside and slammed the door before releasing her. He spoke through tight lips. “If you refuse to be polite you may keep yourself in the chamber you were so anxious to call your own.”

  Raine rounded on him in outrage. “How dare you give such an order? And after dragging me through the keep? I will not be made a laughingstock before your folk.”

  He came toward her then, his eyes hard as granite as he backed her toward the bed. “You will not be made a laughingstock? If I did not understand that your prickly nature was your way of keeping yourself from caring about anyone besides your brother and Abbernathy, and because you do not wish for him to care about anything but you, I would throttle you before the whole keep. After your insult of refusing to sleep in my chamber last eve none would think me overharsh in doing so, either.”

  She gasped again, not sure which of the things he had said horrified her most. “My insult to you!” Rage flowed through her, even as she knew a deep anguish and longing for her own home, for she knew what he said was true. None here would defend her no matter what he did. Somehow, someway she must get away from him, from this place.

  If he wanted her to bed with him, so be it. Perhaps then he would set her free. Desperately she threw herself backward upon the bed, her gaze boring into his. “Take me now and have done with it. But know that with my innocence I buy my freedom.”

  Benedict stared at her in utter amazement for a long moment, before his gaze narrowed in some expression she could not begin to read. But then her breathing sharpened as he came close, leaning over her.