Guy lifted one eyebrow lazily. ‘She’s as docile as a lamb.’
‘Not too docile, I hope. Although I should hate to make a spectacle of myself by being tossed over her head. Now that really would give everyone something to talk about.’
‘Nonsense. You are an accomplished horsewoman so I don’t think there will be any danger of that.’
Keeping her eyes lowered, Jane pulled on her gloves, aware of Guy standing close behind her, so close she could feel the warmth of his body. Instead of holding out his hands for her foot to hoist her up on to the horse, he placed them about her waist, steady and firm, lifting her with ease into the saddle, making her acutely aware of his strength and complete masculinity.
Hooking her leg firmly round the pommel, she arranged her skirts so they fell down either side, hiding her leather riding boots. She watched Guy as he stepped on the mounting block and swung himself up into the saddle with perfect ease. Taking the reins as Joy moved restlessly, Jane controlled the horse effortlessly, but her apprehension was apparent.
Guy grinned. ‘Don’t look so worried. The truth is, there is nothing to compare with riding a high-spirited, courageous horse in the hunt. Hunting is one of man’s oldest activities, from when they would hunt for food. I think it brings out all the primitive instincts in the hunter. It’s the thrill of it, the exhilaration of the chase ending in the final capture and subjugation of its prey.’
Jane stared at him, her face turning scarlet. ‘I have a distinct feeling you are not speaking of the fox or the deer at all, but of me,’ she quipped, aware and hopelessly appalled that she was unable to work up any indignation. As so often had happened in the past, she felt completely out of control of her life when they were together. It was like being swept along into the heart of a hurricane. She trembled slightly. After all, she was flesh and blood and not immune to her husband’s sexual magnetism.
Guy looked deeply into her eyes, knowing she had interpreted his words in the way they had been intended. He smiled without contrition, for he was well satisfied that he had been able to reduce her to confusion. Suddenly things didn’t look as bleak as they had last night. He was even more determined to expend all his patience in breaking down the barricades she had erected to keep him out.
Chapter Eight
The huntsman blew his horn and with everyone bristling with excitement, armed with crossbows and swords, they rode out of the courtyard and into the open countryside. Following the hounds, the hunters poured over the land with a fluidity reminiscent of a river in full flow, sending up clods of earth and grass in their wake. Jane joined those following the hunt while having decided to take no active part.
The exhilaration of speed and the rush of the morning air brought a glow of colour to her cheeks. The sun shone and the trees cast long shadows over the land drenched and sparkling with early morning dew.
Jane spotted Guy out in front, riding well in a class of his own, at one with his horse, leaping with absolute confidence over hedges and ditches. The hounds soon took a scent and a majestic stag went crashing into the forest. Horses and hounds plunged in after him. Jane’s horse reared with excitement at the sound of the horn, but she held it back, having no wish to be in on the kill of such a beautiful animal.
Having killed the prey, hunters began to emerge from the forest with their spoils. After their exertions of the chase, happy and subdued, they began to drift back to Rosemead. Jane saw Guy sitting his horse on the edge of the forest. As if he sensed her watching him, he turned in the saddle and met her gaze. He rode towards her, reining in his horse when he reached her side. Bareheaded, his dark hair was ruffled by his exertions. Jane was filled with the impulse to run her fingers through the tousled curls.
‘I think it is time to head back,’ he said. ‘A couple of deer and a wild boar make for a successful hunt. Come, we’ll ride back together. I know how anxious you are to look your best for the entertainment later. The hunt took longer than anticipated so, with time of the essence, I know of a shorter way through the woods.’
Jane sent a wary glance his way and caught him staring point blank at her mouth, the drift of his thoughts perfectly plain on his handsome face. Despite the increase in her heart rate, a crisp, cool smile was briefly bestowed on him. ‘I would like to say that I would rather take my chances alone—I believe I would be safer—but since we are both heading in the same direction it would be churlish of me to refuse.’
‘I agree, it would. You will be quite safe with me, I assure you.’
Jane looked at him askance. ‘As to that I am not convinced. You have a habit of taking advantage of me when I’m at my most vulnerable.’
His eyes twinkled wickedly. ‘A husband’s prerogative, surely! I would like to take advantage of you right here and now, my love, but I shall abstain until I am assured of a genuine welcome.’
Jane gave him a shy smile before averting her eyes. ‘That would be advisable,’ she commented in husky tones, wondering how long she would be able to hold out against him, how long it would be before she gave up the battle she had been waging in her lonely bed, for the fires he had lit had been difficult to quench. After tasting passion’s appeasement to the fullest extent, she was now fully conscious of what she was yearning for.
He gazed at her soft lips as he led her down a path through the woods that would take them directly back to Rosemead. ‘There is no way I shall allow this situation to continue indefinitely, Jane. It is foolish when you know how I ache for you.’
‘Ache?’ she quipped in mock rebuke, a reluctant smile twitching at the corners of her lips. ‘A hungry greed is how I would describe it.’
Her remark made him laugh out loud. ‘I won’t argue against the truth. You ride well, Jane,’ he remarked admiringly after a moment of riding in silence, ‘as I have observed on more than one occasion. May I ask who was your instructor? Some handsome suitor, perhaps?’
Jane’s lashes lowered as she gave him a sidelong glance. ‘In the main, my brother.’
Guy tried not to react. To do so at this present time would open old wounds which were best left closed until her trust in him had been built up completely. ‘Ah, then he taught you well.’
‘Andrew was a superb horseman—none better,’ she said, swallowing down the lump that clogged her throat at the memory of her handsome brother. ‘H-have you heard anything about Richard?’ she asked bravely, knowing that the mention of his name was sure to anger Guy, but the issue that had torn them apart could not be avoided indefinitely. She observed Guy’s mouth tighten ominously.
‘Having recovered from his wound, he went north. He was with John Neville when they routed the Lancastrians at Hexham in May.’
‘Where is he now?’
Guy turned his head and looked at her. ‘It matters to you that much, does it, Jane?’
‘I cannot forget that we were to be married. Nor can I overlook what happened between the two of you.’
Guy fixed his stony gaze on the path ahead. ‘He is still in the north. After the battle most of the rebel leaders were executed. Only a few pockets of resistance and castles remain in Lancastrian hands. It is expected they will fall very soon. You should know that for his courage and daring, it is rumoured that Aniston will be knighted.’
Jane was surprised to hear this. Richard’s elevation brought her no joy. ‘I see. If this is true, then he will finally achieve his heart’s desire.’ After a moment she turned and looked at him. ‘Will you explain something to me?’
He glanced at her, noting her grave expression. ‘If I can.’
‘Richard was known to you, wasn’t he, before you returned to Cherriot Vale?’ He nodded, his expression stern. ‘And did your dislike of him stem from the time he spent as Lord Lambert’s squire?’
‘The circumstances at the time did not endear him to me.’
‘What happened? I recall you telling me that Lord Lambert had a daughter who drowned.’
‘She was the only daughter of Lord and Lady Lambert—their y
oungest child. They—and her two brothers—adored her. The coroner’s jury found her death was caused by drowning, the verdict accidental death. Her body was found in the lake—the circumstances of which were regarded as suspicious by her family.’
‘For what reason?’
‘There was evidence that she had received a heavy blow to her head and Lucy never went to the lake. She had a fear of water, which was why it was so strange to find her there. Her death caused a scandal at the time. Despite the inquest’s outcome, Richard Aniston was widely suspected to have orchestrated her death—a view shared by her family—hence his dismissal.’
‘But why? If Richard was responsible for what happened, for what reason would he kill her?’
‘Apparently she was with child. One of Aniston’s companions let slip that Aniston was enamoured of her, and she of him, and that they met in secret. But nothing is certain.’
‘And do you think Richard might have murdered her—that he is capable of committing a crime as atrocious as murder?’ A sickening knot clenched in her stomach that this might be so.
‘It’s not unlikely—which was one of the reasons I was so concerned when I discovered the two of you were about to become betrothed. Not only did I want to protect you from him, but from the first moment I saw you, I wanted you.’ His voice had gone low and deep, almost hoarse. ‘I’ve never made any secret of that.’ His blue eyes were now darker than ever, the colour seemingly taken from the most tempestuous water of the Thames.
Elevating her chin, Jane fixed her gaze on a spot in the distance. ‘As much as you want a child?’
‘That isn’t the same and you know it,’ he ground out.
Jane looked him. ‘Is it, Guy? Is it really?’ Finding it hard to remain unmoved by what she saw in his eyes, she said, ‘Why didn’t you tell me—or at least make my father aware that Lord Lambert suspected that Richard was in some way connected to his daughter’s death?’
‘I did—when I called about the rumours Aniston had started about us.’
‘He never said anything to me.’
‘I doubt he wanted to worry you.’
‘Probably not.’
‘If Lord Lambert and his sons had any proof of Aniston dallying with Lucy, he would have been beaten to a pulp, his ambition of becoming a knight that he craved a forgotten dream.’
‘Which happened anyway, when he rode north to join Neville and by some miracle distinguished himself. Poor Lucy.’
‘Lord Lambert burned to find Aniston and wring the truth out of him about what he did to her, but he did not know—he only suspected. He was a quiet, upright man, respected—noble. He could not go hurling wild accusations with nothing to back them up. Such rash behaviour on his part would generate a whirlwind of gossip and scandal both in Wiltshire and at court, which was one thing he would not tolerate.’
‘If someone indeed ended Lucy’s life, then she deserves justice.’
‘True, but Aniston is not going to confess and, without evidence, it’s hardly likely to happen.’
‘No, I don’t suppose it is,’ Jane murmured.
Lucy’s story affected Jane deeply. If Richard really had murdered her, she realised she’d had a lucky escape, which made her think of Guy and the accusations she had heaped on him. Through all her past debates over his guilt or innocence, she asked herself if a man who had been so caring and tender with her on their wedding night could try to murder a man in front of her eyes in cold blood.
The question flared without warning in her mind, as if to accuse her for her irrational condemnation of her husband. If indeed Guy was capable of such a monstrous act and some dark demon truly lurked behind that gallant facade, then wouldn’t he be tormented by the wickedness lurking deep within him? Wouldn’t she have glimpsed some evidence of those malevolent characteristics in him in some brief, carelessly unguarded moment?
Aware of her preoccupation, Guy looked at her. ‘Knowing this, does it change anything between us, Jane?’
She thought about his question. A wavering sigh escaped her lips. ‘It doesn’t change what you did. And, as you said, there is no evidence to say Richard did murder Lucy. But I do have difficulty rationalising a man of your integrity being capable of such a despicable act as to murder a man in cold blood.’
‘Does this mean that you’re suffering some doubts about my guilt?’
His blunt question brought tears to her eyes. Diffidently she met his searching gaze. ‘I haven’t been able to come to any definite conclusions about what happened that day, if that’s what you mean. At times, it seems utterly foolish to even suspect that you could have done such a thing, but then I have a recurring nightmare in which your appearance changes and the demon you’ve become makes me afraid.’
Guy certainly had been disturbed as he had lain beside her last night and listened to her tormented whimpering. ‘But you’re still not certain,’ he said in a matter-of-fact way. ‘And then there’s my reputation, which doesn’t make it any easier for you. Don’t believe everything you hear, Jane, or, for that matter, only bits of what you see.’ Rather than stir up past hurts, after a few moments of silence, he said, ‘Are you looking forward to the entertainment later?’
‘Yes, although I’m also apprehensive.’
‘I should tell you that the king and queen are expected to attend. The visit will be short. It is expected that they will leave after the meal.’
‘So I understand,’ Jane replied. ‘Lady Cecilia told me when I was leaving the house earlier.’ The imminent arrival of the royal guests had put her in a state of excitement. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing them.’
‘And they are looking forward to meeting you, Jane.’
‘Then I must make sure I look my elegant best. I am grateful to you for taking the shortest route back, which will give me more time.’
‘Nonsense. As always you will look ravishing.’
They were almost at Rosemead and she looked straight ahead, as if fascinated by the large gathering of courtiers in the courtyard. She wished she could look him in the eyes, but knew she would be unable to control her heated emotions.
Midday saw barges transporting and shedding guests and the courtyard was filled with litters and neighing horses, resounding shouts and garrulous voices. It seemed that the whole city of London had come to Rosemead that day. There were people everywhere, courtiers more beautiful than Jane could have imagined. She was terrified and equally suffused with a frivolous joy. She squirmed in delight, longing to be an accepted part of it.
Bathed and dressed in a gown of forest-green with russet trim, exhausted after the hunt—which was most unusual, for she always managed to keep up with the best of them—she would have liked to rest, but the royal barge had been sighted on the river and the arrival of the king and queen was imminent. Jane saw herself in the mirror like a strange idol made entirely of precious fabrics. She was shocked to her soul by the wanton richness of her gown, which was just one of many she had acquired since her elevation to the noble ranks. Guy came and stood beside her.
‘You are very beautiful, Jane. You are sure to draw attention to yourself. After everything that has happened, it is my dearest wish that you are able to put it behind you and look to the future.’
Smoothing her skirts with her hands, she glanced at him. ‘Do not worry about me. The life I thought of as bleak has surely taken a turn for the better.’
As she stepped from the darkness of the corridor into the glittering hall with her husband, his tall figure clad in scarlet-and-black velvet studded with precious gems, she roused an answering flash of envy in the eyes of every woman present, and of their male escorts too. And yet there was something remote and detached in the attitude of this dazzling creature newly descended in their midst. She looked like a beautiful, gilded statue and no man watching her as she moved forwards slowly to the soft rustle of her forest-green skirts could have said whether his admiration was given most to the perfection of her eyes, or the tender, irresistible curve of her smilin
g lips.
Jane’s attention was drawn to the sumptuously attired ladies and gentlemen in courtly dress, flashing with costly jewels. She trembled with apprehension. Her sudden painful awareness of the gulf between her status and that of this elite gathering added a terrible weight to her body. She was both nervous and excited about meeting the royal couple, her anticipation not without apprehension. There was an air of excitement in the Great Hall, with vassals going about their business with a spring of expectancy in their step, and lords and ladies preening themselves. Lady Cecilia had gone to a great deal of trouble and expense.
Protected by the royal guard, King Edward and Queen Elizabeth arrived with an entourage of servants and lords and ladies of the court. The Earl of Sinnington and Lady Cecilia welcomed them to Rosemead.
‘Oh, look at them,’ a lady next to Jane whispered in awe as the glittering royal couple paused for a leisurely perusal of the assembled company before advancing into the hall.
Everyone in the hall appeared riveted by the couple and, indeed, they were a breathtaking sight to behold. With lithe, liquid movements the queen walked beside the handsome young king. Jane was fascinated by the way she glided as if her feet merely skimmed the floor. Elegant of manner and with a beauty that shone when she smiled, the queen was resplendent in a pale-blue gown trimmed with gold and decorated with pearls. Everyone stepped aside to allow them to pass.
Jane looked close at this tall and slender woman with the red-gold hair. She had been a widow with two sons when she had married the king in secret in the spring. Her husband, Sir John Grey, who had been killed at the second battle of St Albans, had fought against the king. With high hopes of King Edward marrying one of the great princesses in Europe, the marriage had caused a fury at the time.
Moving to stand beside Jane, Guy’s appreciative gaze travelled downwards over her green-clad body with a confident, possessive smile. ‘You look, as always, stunning, my love.’
She gave him a warning look in response to his impudent endearment. But she was given no time to reproach him for at that moment the king appeared in front of them.
The Devil Claims a Wife Page 16
