The Devil Claims a Wife

by Helen Dickson

  She was aware of his desires, knowing he wanted her to yield. Their bodies fitted together, breast to breast, thigh to thigh, mouths fused, moving, caressing, enfolding, their tongues touching. She waited for the screaming denial to come from some dark, unfeeling recess of her mind, this time determined to vanquish its intrusion. But she was met with only empty silence as if her conscience watched in amused approval.

  When his lips left hers and he pressed fevered kisses along the ivory column of her throat and the gentle swell of her breasts, throwing back her head to allow him easy access, with closed eyes and breathing quickly, Jane murmured, ‘Please stop. I don’t think I can stand more of this.’

  He chuckled low and deep. ‘Yes, you can,’ he said, his mouth going even lower. ‘We have only just begun. You are more of a woman than I thought. I will teach you to provoke me, Jane. I will have you begging for mercy, you beautiful, irresistible girl.’

  From that moment onwards, Jane stopped belonging to herself. As she found again the lips that had already intoxicated her once, she also recaptured the whirlwind of unknown sensations, whose memory had left a dim yearning deep in her flesh. Everything came alive within her.

  Guy’s knowledgeable fingers stroked and caressed the contours of her body, her shapely thighs, while his restless blood clamoured for a deeper fulfilment. There was a haste in him to know and touch every part of her, to claim her as his own. She held his head, wrapping her arms about it as again his mouth slid to her breast, taking the hardness of her rosy nipple in his mouth.

  Glowing waves of pleasure spread like liquid fire through Jane’s body as he gently sucked and teased. Her head thrashed from side to side and a breathless moan slipped from her as his lips continued to caress a pink, pliant crest. His tongue branded her with its fiery touch and her lithe form shook with the fervour that built within her. Raising his face to hers, Guy placed his mouth suddenly on hers, tasting with a hunger they both shared.

  Jane closed her eyes. Within raged confusion and contradiction. With the promise of a fulfilment which nothing would hinder, her pleasure had risen to such heights that she was frightened by it. While only a moment before she had been ready to surrender, now she rebelled against seduction. She threw herself back, gasping, trying to escape from those hands whose every gesture brought to her new springs of rapture.

  ‘Oh, please,’ she gasped, ‘do not do this. Please—you must stop … I never meant …’

  ‘Nay, my love, we have come too far to deny ourselves now.’

  He laughed without any sign of contrition and once more Jane succumbed to his superior strength. Her blood began to course more quickly through her veins. A rush of desire flashed deep within her and spread through her whole being. With breathless curiosity the surprising new sensations she was experiencing beneath his naked body and the thrusting of his manhood between her open thighs dissolved her will.

  When he finally took her she let herself flow, unresisting, along the stream of voluptuousness. She did not cry out against the pain, for every particle of her body was furiously calling for domination by her master. Her green eyes opened wide, then waves of pleasure swept her from one summit to another in an ecstasy she had never known before. With her head thrown back over the edge of the bed, she heard the soft, plaintive moan and suddenly recognised her own voice.

  With untiring patience he would bring her back to him, each time more yielding, warm and moaning, with fever-bright eyes. The sensual haze that descended on her made her wonder why she fought him. All she could comprehend was how gentle he was, how loving, and when he kissed her, there was nothing she could do but kiss him back. She struggled and surrendered in turn, but when the emotion she could not control had reached its peak, she felt utterly spent.

  Then a finger touched her chin and raised it until she looked full into his soft, deep blue eyes. They were not smiling, but intense to such a degree that she was almost startled. He was easing her back on to the bed, using his strength, kneeling over her, and her skin glowed like a pearl.

  She should not be letting him do this again, Jane told herself feverishly. She should not be allowing him to enslave her like this. But he was already rearing over her, his hands sliding up her thighs and curling over them. His tongue flicked against her and she arched up like a bow. She was surprised at her own abandon, for she came to him again, pressing to him, answering his every passion with her own, losing all awareness of herself as her senses mastered her entirely. Between them they had created a need for each other that was now consuming them, overwhelming them, blotting out everything around them. Quenching that raging thirst would take more than a few moments’ desperate embrace. But it was now no longer a matter of choice. Desire had become necessity. She sighed as his lips found her breasts, his hand boldly stroking her thighs. He held her, his lips caressing her softly, stirring her until her mouth parted beneath the exquisite agony of it.

  He did not rush to possess her as he had done before, but savoured each passing moment of pleasure, and in the waiting a budding ecstasy began to bloom and grow within Jane, a feeling which she could neither quench nor deny. His delay attacked her senses, the throbbing heat of him warmed her and she began to respond to his ardent kisses, the hot flame of heat enveloping her so that she was no longer herself, but his.

  His hands were beneath her hips, lifting her to him. At last he slid into her, to the very core of her, sinking deeper and pulling away. There was something pagan that spoke to a part of her she had not known was there, and he took her to a place she had never known before as once again they tasted the full joy of their mutual union. Her moans were of pleasure, until the climax swept over them with a power they had thought unimaginable. Jane was his again and she revelled in the sweetness of bliss.

  When at last their passion was spent and she was nestled beside his manly warmth, Jane’s mind came together from the nether regions where it had fled what seemed like a long time ago. She wasn’t sure what was happening to her, but the exquisite pleasure she had taken in their lovemaking was something she had not expected to find. It was a pleasure that was more than physical, but she felt there was a part of him she could not reach.

  ‘You are mine now, Jane,’ he murmured, gently kissing the top of her head, ‘my wife in every sense, and from this moment on this is how it will be between us.’

  His words stirred Jane back to awareness. Pulling away from him, Jane stared into his eyes, feeling his possession of her and her own willingness to be possessed.

  My God, could she be falling in love with him? she wondered, and then firmly dismissed the notion. No, she absolutely was not falling in love with him. For her there would always be the ideal. Not only must she love, but she must be loved equally in return. Anything less was unacceptable. Besides, she absolutely refused to fall in love with a man who regarded her as nothing more than a brood mare.

  Guy opened his eyes when sunlight streamed across the bed. Jane was asleep beside him, curled up in a nest of covers, her hair a tangle of silken tresses about her head. His heart turned over at the sight of her. She was warm and soft, her face serene in slumber, her dark curling lashes sweeping her cheeks.

  The aching memory of her response to him, the open generosity of her lovemaking, touched him deeply. He could succumb to the temptation of a beautiful woman as easily as the average man, but he had never experienced anything like what he was beginning to feel for his wife. He was uncomfortable with the feeling. Cynically, he tried to ignore the protective need she roused in him. It had been many years since a woman had touched that chord in him. The memory brought a return of bitterness he had thought long dead. It was an experience he had vowed never to repeat. Isabel’s betrayal had been as though a part of him had been severed, and the only way to staunch the blood had been to make sure he never fell for a woman again. Which he had done, until Jane Lovet had come along. Just one night in her bed and gone was the reserve, the restraint he exercised over all aspects of his life.

  Her
e he was, trapped by a guileless woman, all his self-esteem set aside. The longer he remained with her, her hold on him would grow stronger, and before he knew it he would have become enslaved and no longer be his own master. It was a situation he could not even begin to contemplate.

  The arrival of the king’s messenger summoning him to Westminster could not have come at a more appropriate time.

  A smile drifted across Jane’s face as she stood at the top of the stairs and surveyed the hall below. The servants had done their work and now there was no sign of the previous day’s revelries. Several knights slouched on benches against the walls, most of them sleeping off the effects of too much liquor. Some slowly lifted their faces to her and with an effort managed to open their eyes, their expressions pained and strained. One or two managed a wincing smile.

  Shaking her head in amusement, she descended the stairs and walked across the hall to the door.

  Guy came in from the courtyard. Having left her slumbering not more than half an hour before, he was surprised to see her up and dressed. The contrast between her very proper appearance and her lusty performance of a short while ago fired his interest anew. Even he was a little shocked by his appetite for her. His speculative gaze riveted on her with rapt fascination.

  ‘Good morning again, Jane. I trust you slept well?’

  ‘Very well,’ she replied in a voice that was an embarrassed whisper, but her eyes were bright and sparkling. ‘I was just going to take a walk outside. As you see, everyone is suffering the after-effects of the wedding.’

  Guy’s glance at his fellow knights and the smug grin that accompanied it was without sympathy. ‘They’re paying the price of an orgy of drunkenness—unlike myself. I plead complete innocence.’

  Jane shot him a reproving look. ‘Had you not been otherwise engaged with your wife, my lord, I have no doubt you would have been as drunk as the rest of them and in dire need of a restorative.’

  The look he gave her was positively wicked. ‘There’s only one kind of restorative I am interested in, Jane. I shall be more than happy for you to administer it to me at a later date. Come. Allow me to accompany you outside where you can bid your husband a safe journey.’

  She stared at him for a speechless moment. ‘What journey? Where can you possibly be rushing off to at a moment’s notice?’

  Avoiding her eyes, he strode out into the courtyard. ‘I have a message from the king. I’m going away for a few days.’

  ‘Going away? Where?’ Jane demanded, having to run to keep up with him.

  ‘To London. To the court. I am needed for urgent consultations.’

  ‘London?’ she gasped, trying to ignore the panic that was making her heart race. ‘But—what about everything here? What about me?’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘Well, you can’t just go like this.’

  ‘Why not?’ he asked with iron politeness.

  ‘Can I go with you?’

  ‘No. You will remain here.’

  The news hit her like a physical blow. Her cheeks flamed with indignation. ‘You mean to abandon me the morning after our wedding? You really are leaving me here alone?’

  ‘The castle is full of servants. You won’t be alone.’

  ‘But—you can’t do that.’

  ‘Yes, I can, Jane,’ he told her firmly, his eyes hardening. ‘You’ll be perfectly all right. The servants will look after you and I’m sure you will find plenty to occupy your time.’

  ‘Did you know you would be leaving last night?’

  ‘No,’ he replied, walking briskly to where Cedric was waiting with the horses. ‘I have very little time. If you have something to say, please get it over with.’

  Her back ramrod straight and her eyes jewel bright, she said, ‘I—I thought—after last night, we—we …’ She fluttered a hand, not knowing quite what to say. She went on. ‘I—I see now I was wrong about your feelings. I—I will miss you.’

  There was an odd, searching look in his eyes. ‘Will you?’

  She nodded. ‘Though I cannot see why you have to go. We’ve been married less than a day and you will not be here when I need you most.’

  Slowly, he turned and for a moment she saw his profile outlined, hard as a cameo, against the light coming from the sun behind. Then he was facing her again. Taking her face between his big hands, he kissed her lips. It was brief and without passion. And then he was hoisting himself up into the saddle. He looked down at her. ‘I’ll be gone a week, no more.’ Then he was gone, leaving his wife staring after him.

  ‘Of all the self-centred, heartless blackguards! He cannot even speak the truth,’ she whispered. ‘He will never return.’

  Each day that passed was longer than the one before. She refused to go home. She shuddered to think how her father would react if he were to find out her husband had abandoned her the morning after their wedding. But why had he left her? What did it mean? And why should she care?

  After three days, clear-headed and able to think and attack problems, she dispassionately confronted her position in its entirety, concentrating on the realities of her future. She had to depend on herself. For whatever reason Guy was gone to London—to partake of courtly pleasures?—she dispelled the hurt of his betrayal. For her there was work to be done.

  The castle had been managed by the bailiff and run by old retainers since the demise of the old earl. Jane had been pleasantly surprised to discover how efficient the servants were. Before her marriage when she had visited the castle, some of them had shown her kindness, while others looked upon her as the girl from Cherriot and considered her no better than they were. It was a situation she had been determined to rectify as soon as she became mistress in her new home.

  Under the watchful eye of the bailiff, she took the matter in hand from the start, refusing to allow him to interfere in a matter which she had to sort out herself if she was to gain their respect. After just one week in which she went out of her way to be courteous and polite, yet always firm in making her preferences for this and that known, she evinced a vivacious charm and caring thoughtfulness that evoked their reluctant fondness.

  The servants, male and female, both inside and out, thought she was beautiful and her airy laughter and ever-ready humour infected them all. With her presence, it seemed the sun shone brighter and the day grew warmer. Their hearts were lightened and they attacked their chores with a zealous determination to please her. The great castle came alive and functioned as never before.

  As the days became weeks and she became convinced that Guy had truly abandoned her, try though she might to calm her fears and push her doubts aside, it seemed an eternity had passed when he finally returned late one night.

  She was crossing the empty hall to the stairs when the door opened. She whirled round, startled. His tall figure was outlined in the doorway. She paused and watched him stride halfway towards her and then he stopped.

  ‘So, you came back,’ she breathed, giving no hint of her own soaring joy. ‘I’m sorry. You gave me a frightful turn.’

  ‘Since when have you been such a nervous type?’

  ‘Since spending the last six weeks alone!’

  ‘I’m back now.’ His voice sounded strange, studiedly casual.

  ‘I see that.’

  ‘Are you glad to see me?’

  ‘You could have written. You could have let me know when you were coming back.’

  ‘I should have. I apologise.’

  He looked at her intently, hiding his surprise. The last time he’d seen her she was pale and anguished at his leaving. Before him now stood another Jane, vibrant in health. Clad in a dark-green gown, her sunburst hair tumbled flowing over her shoulders and back. She straightened proudly to meet his gaze as he soaked up the sight of her, for which he was more thirsty than water by far.

  ‘Why aren’t you in bed?’

  She came towards him from the shadows and the candlelight made her eyes sparkle. ‘I thought you had left me. I thought I would never see yo
u again. You abandoned me at a time when I needed you most. In the beginning people were—not kind.’

  ‘But you survived.’

  ‘It has been hard winning their trust.’

  For a moment Guy gazed at her with some surprise. He had borne a heavy load of self-recrimination for the way he had left her. When the king’s messenger had come the morning after his wedding, summoning him to court on an urgent matter—which, to his annoyance, he found to be nothing more than to inspect two of his majesty’s newly arrived horses from France—he should have delayed his departure instead of haring off. And when he was at Westminster there were duties that made it impossible for him to leave. Yet what he had done was cruelly unjust.

  He should have been conscious of her feelings on a matter that was sure to worry her. It was inevitable that she would meet with hostility from some—and how humiliating would that have been for her? With a twinge of pity and a good deal of self-condemnation for leaving her alone at a time when she had needed him, he admitted that though she was young, she had been very brave, and he shouldn’t have left the hostility to her to chance.

  He’d missed her since he had ridden off six weeks ago and been too stubborn to admit it.

  ‘I shouldn’t have left you alone. You had no way of knowing what it would be like living here. Nothing had prepared you. You had to face problems you had never encountered, with which you had no way of dealing, a fact I failed to understand.’

  ‘Yes, well—as you said, I survived.’

  ‘Are you glad to see me, Jane?’

  ‘Of course I am,’ she said quietly.

  ‘You’ve a strange way of showing it.’

  ‘I—I have a headache and I’m out of sorts and very tired. I’m sorry if I’m not as enthusiastic as you expected me to be. You—shouldn’t have surprised me like that.’

  He didn’t reply, merely gave her a strange look she couldn’t quite fathom. His deep-blue eyes were sober and seemed to be examining her as though looking for some change. It made her quite uncomfortable.