She nodded stiffly. ‘I understand. Do you know where Richard is now?’
Guy released her and she snatched her hand away and stood rubbing it, her breath coming unevenly.
‘He is ill, but not in the accepted sense of the word.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean,’ said Guy with brutal clarity, ‘that the libertine and drunkard that he is, he is suffering the after-effects of a debauch and was incapable of standing upright when I left him at a local ale house.’
‘So you have seen him?’
‘Briefly.’
Jane stood quite still, her eyes wide and frightened, and once again Guy was conscious of that bewildering pain in his heart. He said harshly, ‘Now that you know the truth, perhaps you can understand why it is that I want you to return to Cherriot as soon as possible.’
She shook her head. ‘No. I will not run away. I came to court to be a handmaiden to the queen and this is where I shall remain.’
‘For God’s sake, Jane, have the sense to look things in the face—and do not stupidly refuse to do what is right.’
Guy saw her flinch as though he had struck her, then he turned and with long purposeful strides left her, his cloak flying behind him like the sails of a ship.
That night Jane retired to her chamber and slept immediately. It was past the hour of midnight when she came fully awake in an instant and lay staring blankly in the dark, hearing Ann’s steady breathing. Then she realised what had awakened her. It was her meeting with Guy and knowing he was close.
She hadn’t told him that she was carrying his child. Having known the heat of his body close beside her, his warm lips parting hers, his arms holding her tightly and the thrust of his maleness between her thighs, afraid he would insist on sending her away if she told him, hating the thought of them being apart, she would nurse her secret a while longer.
Dizzy with the remembrance of what they had shared, her confusion came from the haunting sense of pleasure that now overwhelmed her. What spell had this man, her husband, cast upon her that she should want him so fiercely? She had never felt so much a woman as when she lay on his bed. ‘But he is but a man,’ she whispered in the dark, ‘with no special gift above other men.’ So why, she thought in her confusion, must he be the one to rouse her above other men?
When sleep came again it was not the peaceful slumber of before.
A measure of disquiet existed between Jane and Guy following their meeting, and a day of dubious calm passed. Her defiance had set him on edge and her refusal to return to Sinnington Castle made matters difficult for him. The only way he could make sure no harm came to her was for him to keep an eye on her himself.
Accompanying the king when he visited the queen in her apartments, Guy saw Jane seated behind a large embroidery frame by the window. Her green eyes with their long shadowing lashes were looking across the room. In one quick glance he saw the long creamy neck exposed and the soft flesh in the cleft of her breasts, which were outlined by the tight blue bodice of her gown. Since coming to court she seemed even more voluptuous, sensuous and provocative, glowing with colour like an exotic bird. Little wonder, he thought angrily, the gentlemen of the court couldn’t keep their eyes off her.
He drew a long, harsh breath, trying to bring his temper under control. When he finally managed to do that, it occurred to him that he was condemning Jane and deciding her future on the basis of common gossip—and she had put up a good defence.
He was tempted to install her in his own chamber, but it was small and lacking in female comforts—a man’s room, where his companions came without invite. But he would often dwell on the nights they had spent together at Rosemead. He could still feel that warm, rounded slenderness in his arms and the way in which, for a long moment, she had melted against him and become so much a part of him that her every nerve and pulse and breath and heartbeat had been as though it were his own.
The memory was so intense that it was like experiencing it all over again. She was loving, sensual and warm. She was also imperious, spirited and rebellious, and she had learned to be tough—but she was not cold, not cruel, not heartless.
The day was warm and sunny following two days of constant rain. Taking the opportunity for some recreation in the fresh air, the queen and her retinue of ladies were walking in the grounds of the palace. They were a happy, chattering group, the queen dazzling in full magnificence of jewels and ermine and smelling of jasmine.
As Jane glanced down a flight of stone steps into a yard bustling with activity, her attention was drawn to a small company of men. There were five in all, but Jane felt no inclination to move her gaze past the man lounging closest to the steps. His gaze was fixed on her.
It was Richard.
On seeing her he shoved himself away from the wall and sauntered towards the steps. He stood looking up at her, making no attempt to approach her. A hollow sickness inside her could not be appeased. His eyes devoured her with greed and she would have run from him, but she did not want to cause a scene. His eyes were bloodshot, his face bloated. He’d been drinking. He stood with his arms folded across his barrel chest, watching her with a hard, sombre expression. Nothing in his face indicated the path of his thoughts, yet Jane felt the weight of his unrelenting gaze as surely as if it were a hand upon her shoulder.
Wanting to put as much distance as possible between herself and Richard, she turned her back on him and walked on to join the queen’s ladies.
That same evening when the queen had retired and had no further use of her, Jane left the royal apartment with the intention of retiring. The corridor which led to the stairs to her room was filled with shadows. Sconces were lit and the small windows were open to let in the cool night air. As Jane reached the long flight of stone steps, like a wily serpent Richard stepped out of the shadows in front of her.
‘Richard!’
He lurched towards her, slurring his words. ‘Did I frighten you, Countess?’
‘No—you—you took me by surprise.’ He was drunk—so drunk that he could barely stand. ‘Why are you here? What do you want?’
‘To speak to you. It is what old friends do.’
Taking her hand, he held it in a hard grasp with fingers that were feverishly hot and unsteady. Lifting it suddenly to his fleshy lips, he planted a wet, alcoholic kiss on it.
It was not a light gesture of gallantry, but a kiss as greedily passionate as the kisses he had forced on her once before. The memory repulsed her. She tried to drag her hand away, but he held it hard, kissing it again and again, moving his hot, slack mouth against its cool softness. And when he lifted his head at last and looked at her, his eyes were as hot and avid as his mouth had been.
He stared at her for a long moment, breathing hard and unevenly, a dark flush on his cheeks and his eyes bright with a feverish excitement that was as inexplicable to Jane as it was terrifying. Her body shrank and turned cold with a primitive fear and hazy comprehension that the passion she had aroused in him was beyond her control.
She had been disgusted and shocked and furiously angry when he had kissed her before, but she had not been afraid. It had not occurred to her to be, for it had happened in broad daylight and Guy had come to her rescue. But she was afraid now. She was so frightened that for an appalling moment she thought she was going to be physically sick from the fear that cramped her stomach.
A sound of voices and an occasional laugh came from somewhere among the labyrinth of corridors. Irritated, Richard at last released her hand and stepped away. Taking her chance to escape, Jane turned and stumbled up the steps. On reaching her room she closed the door and threw her weight against it, terrified that he might follow her. A candle had been lit and a wan glow of moonlight streaming in through the window allowed her to see the room. Her heart was racing and her teeth chattered as though with cold, and when at last she fumbled for the bolt her shaking hands could not find it. Then she remembered that she had noticed it missing on her arrival, but, having Ann to share
the chamber with her and being under no threat, had seen no reason to fasten the door.
Frozen with terror, she stared at the door, wondering what to do on hearing someone—Richard, stumbling up the stairs. His intentions had a terrifying effect on her. This was no longer some nebulous evil that she had to deal with, but a concrete thing. Panic rose within her once more and she tried to fight it down. There was nowhere to run.
Suddenly the heavy door slammed back on its hinges and Richard staggered in. The candle gutted and its disturbed flame sent shadows dancing across the room. The russet bed-hangings seemed to flutter and points of candlelight flickered in the diamond panes of the window. He stared at her standing on the opposite side of her bed. As if he were already savouring a luscious sweetmeat, his tongue flicked slowly over his fleshy lips. Jane was shocked by the glittering, pleasure-seeking lasciviousness she saw in his eyes. She watched as he lurched round the bed towards her, weaving a little in his walk, blocking her escape. With her back to the wall, she could go no further.
Then, quite suddenly, the numbness left her and gave place to sheer panic and horror. This man—this gross, repulsive, drunken man—was going to force himself on her and ravish her. That day in the woods she had first seen the evidence of the suppressed beast within Richard. Now it had re-emerged and showed no sign of any willingness to withdraw into its hiding place inside Richard’s savage heart. She bit into her bottom lip, afraid she wouldn’t be able to survive this.
‘Go away, Richard. You have no right to be here.’
‘Want to go to bed, do you? That’s right. You go to bed. I won’t keep you waiting.’ He laughed uproariously, which turned to a drunken chuckle of approval. ‘Don’t pretend to be shy—not when you’ve lain with Sinnington. But after tonight you’ll know what it’s like to lie with a real man, my pretty. Aye, when I’m done, be assured, I’ll teach you to spurn me. No woman get’s the better of me, Jane.’
‘Not even Lucy Lambert?’ Jane flung at him.
He stiffened and his eyes widened. And then he opened his mouth wide and laughed loud, yet it was a sound without mirth. ‘Aye—Lucy—delectable little Lucy Lambert.’ He wagged a warning finger at Jane. ‘You’ve been listening to Sinnington. How else would you know about Lucy?’
‘It was rumoured that you had an affair with her. Did you kill her, Richard?’
His expression hardened and he shook his head, as if to clear it of Lucy’s image. ‘The stupid wench got with child,’ he grumbled. ‘Her father and those damned brothers of hers would have run me through had they found out.’
‘So you did kill her—to silence her, was that it?’
‘She became hysterical when I told her nothing could come of it. She clung to me and I pushed her away, knocking her down. When she didn’t get up I saw she was dead …’
‘So you put her in the lake and made it look as if she had taken her own life.’ Jane saw the truth in his eyes and shuddered. ‘That was a despicable and cowardly thing to do. You disgust me, Richard. What you did was beneath contempt—just like the malicious rumour you started, telling everyone that you called off our betrothal because I had given myself to Guy. And Guy? You drew your dagger on him that day in the woods, didn’t you? He reacted in self-defence and yet you tried to put the onus on him.’
Richard’s eyes flared and his teeth were bared as he hissed, ‘Aye—for his arrogance he deserved to die.’
Jane stared at him. So Richard had tried to kill Guy, not the other way round, and Guy had defended himself the only way he could. He hadn’t lied about that. The pain of betrayal began to hammer in her mind. The thought of what she must have put him through chastened her. Her heart contracted with the shame of it. She’d had her chance to prove her loyalty and failed him. It broke her heart to see it now, but she knew the charge was true.
‘You’re despicable, Richard. Guy was simply defending himself when he attacked you. Go away at once before someone comes. I never want to see you again. I share this room with another—she will be arriving at any minute.’
‘Ah, but the Lady Ann is away visiting her family, so we won’t be disturbed. By God, you’re a beauty, Jane. Sinnington’s a lucky man to have you.’ The thick voice held a note of awe. He reached out an unsteady hand and lifted a long tress of her unbound hair.
Quite suddenly the numbness left her and gave way to sheer panic. She struck his hand in fury and terror. ‘Don’t touch me! Don’t dare to touch me!’ Her voice was hoarse with fear and loathing.
Swaying, Richard looked down at her and his red-rimmed eyes lit with hunger. He gave a drunken chuckle of approval. ‘Gad, but you’re ravishing!’
He lunged for her. His clutching hands were on her hair and they gripped it and jerked it brutally, pulling her to him with frightening strength. His eyes seemed to burn into hers and his breathing deepened until he panted over her like a hungry dog over a bone.
Jane screamed and strained against him, pushing at his chest, but he was strong and only laughed at her pitiful struggles. He crushed her to him, forcing her to arch away in disgust, and covered her neck with loathsome kisses. They fell on to the bed. Panic was soon joined by wild instinct as she struggled to free herself, but Richard’s sweaty weight and the swathing folds of her own skirt were against her. The looming possibility that she would soon find herself a victim of his lust caused her to fight with every measure of resolve she could muster. She would not surrender her body to this disgusting lecher. She clawed at his face and tried to turn her own aside, but he dug his fingers into her jaw, causing her to cry out in pain.
‘Quiet, you little fool,’ he ordered, his over-bright eyes terrifying. ‘If you know what’s good for you, you’ll lay back and—’
His words were lost as the door was flung open and a feral growl rent the air, and, as quickly as she had been flung on to the bed, Jane was freed. Befuddled, she lifted her head and found herself staring into a pair of all-too-familiar blue eyes. His strong hands gripped her upper arms and lifted her up.
‘You vile dog, Sinnington!’ Richard snarled thickly. He was wheezing heavily, having exerted himself well beyond the limits when he was full of drink, and in the gloom his sweaty, reddened face seemed far more bloated than usual. He balled his fist threateningly and shoved it in front of Guy. ‘You’ve intruded too often in my affairs—but this time you’ve gone too far.’
Guy easily knocked his fist away with the back of his forearm. There was a dangerous edge of scorn in his laugh. ‘Get out, Aniston. My wife has made it plain that she doesn’t want you here. You’ll find yourself dead if you lay one finger on her.’ His eyes raked him with contempt. ‘You’re drunk—which comes as no surprise after spending the day guzzling copious tankards of ale. Go and find a woman more suited to your—sordid inclinations, and leave my wife alone.’
The taunt caused Richard’s bulging eyes to flare, vividly attesting to his mounting rage.
Jane stood at a loss, despairing of this confrontation ending well. For now, at least, Richard was distracted from her, but unless he left, the danger wasn’t over.
Having expected something like this happening and having kept a watchful eye on Aniston for days, it had been no accident Guy had been close by to hear Jane’s cries. Vulnerable and innocent, he could not let Aniston hurt her. He could not let his wife be degraded and hurt by a monster. Taking the initiative, he took Richard’s arm and forced him to the door. Opening it, he shoved him into the corridor, following him out. Having followed Guy, Cedric appeared at the top of the stairs.
A foul, guttural oath issued forth as Richard lunged towards his adversary with fingers curled into claws. Come what may, he intended to tighten them around Sinnington’s throat. ‘You filthy beggar,’ he roared. ‘I’ll teach you to take what should have been mine.’
A second before Richard reached his antagonist, Guy stepped deftly aside. A sharp, gasp was promptly snatched from Richard’s throat as he saw stretched out below him the steep flight of stone steps. Desperately he t
hrust out his hands for the iron rail and strove to untangle his feet, but to no avail. A moment later he was teetering on the brink, experiencing stark terror. His arms flailed in a desperate attempt to halt his forward momentum, but he was unable to gather his equilibrium no matter how he strove to stop himself from falling.
Guy rushed forwards to grab at his tunic, but in an expanse of time that spanned the chasm between life and death, an eternity flashed before Richard’s mind’s eye. Unable to find anything to hold on to, of a sudden, his rotund body was plummeting head over heels in an awkward descent of the stairs, during the course of which muffled grunts escaped his throat. Then his head slammed into the wall. Though his stumbling descent continued unchecked, no further sound issued from his throat.
Chapter Ten
From where they stood, Guy and Jane and Ced ric looked down to where Richard’s body lay at a grotesque angle.
‘Stay here,’ Guy said to Jane, without turning to look at her.
‘Please be careful,’ she whispered shakily, shocked by what had just happened. She was afraid Richard might be stunned and have a dagger concealed in his belt, waiting for Guy to draw near. ‘He will surely kill you if he can.’
Wary of deception, Guy went down the stairs and paused on the step above Richard’s body. A pool of blood was spreading around his head and his neck was set at an unnatural angle. He was obviously dead, but to make sure Guy stepped over the body and dropped down on one knee. With two of his fingers he felt for a pulse in his neck. There was none.
Guy went back to Jane. As white as a ghost, she was visibly shocked.
‘Is—is he dead?’ she whispered.
‘Very much so. Come.’ He looked at Cedric. ‘See that the guards remove the body will you, Cedric? I’ll explain what happened to those who will question his death later.’
The Devil Claims a Wife Page 20
