The Maiden and the Warrior

by Jacqueline Navin

  Swallowing convulsively, she did not doubt for a moment he was telling her the truth. Agravar bowed, just as congenial as before, and left her once again alone.

  Lucien knew he was in a strange mood today.

  Perhaps part of it was shock. That had certainly been his reaction when Alayna had come to the chapel, suitably attired and amazingly not shouting vile epithets. He had not realized until that moment that he had never expected her to capitulate, not without more threats and thundering from him. Aye, she had shocked him for certain with her calm demeanor and blank expression.

  He was relieved, as well. And decidedly, inexplicably…guilty.

  And why he should be feeling guilty he could not imagine. Yet, there it was, gnawing at him from the inside, coupled with a fair dollop of shame that stifled the satisfaction he should, by rights, have known.

  God’s teeth, was he developing a conscience?

  He hoped not; it was something he could ill afford. Yet he couldn’t say he was pleased with himself at this moment. In point of fact, he was incalculably enraged.

  Not at Alayna, for once. She had done nothing. Perhaps at himself. But he could hardly help the circumstances that had prompted this rash marriage.

  The truth was he was not happy to be wed to a woman who despised him so. What perverse fate had entwined his destiny with her, of all women? She had crossed him when no one dared. She had flouted his orders, chastised him in public, demeaned him with her haughty looks and impertinent barbs. She was by far the most exasperating, infuriating, fascinating…

  He sighed, shaking off that last thought. Agravar was looking at him curiously. Lucien realized that he had heard nothing of what the Viking had been saying.

  “What is troubling you now?” Agravar asked impatiently.

  “I am too much distracted,” Lucien said. “These constant battles are wearing on me.”

  “Are we speaking of Garrick or Alayna?”

  “It does not improve my mood that I have taken a wife who would sooner see me gutted than look at me. Did you notice her? She might have been a vestal virgin going to her death pyre.”

  “What did you expect?” Agravar exclaimed.

  Lucien exhaled. “Must I live out my days with a shecat, forever spitting and hissing at me?”

  “Strange, she said much the same to me not a moment ago.”

  Lucien shot a glance at his new wife. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret upon seeing her seated alone. She looked as friendless as he felt.

  “Maybe some words of reconciliation are in order,” Agravar suggested.

  Scowling, Lucien snapped, “I have made no apologies thus far, and I am not about to start now! This pretense is tiresome. I am leaving.”

  “But it is your wedding day!” Agravar protested.

  “Aye, that it is. Be content that I do not declare it a day of mourning.”

  When Alayna climbed wearily to her chamber that evening, she did not expect to find it emptied of her belongings.

  Momentarily confused, she stood in the middle of the stripped room. Slowly comprehension dawned. De Montregnier!

  A small sound behind her made her whirl around to see the same young servant girl whom she had caught glaring at her before. Gone was the malevolent look. Instead her face was wan with an eerie blankness.

  “A curse on you,” she said dreamily.

  Alayna stepped back, horrified. “What did you say?”

  “He wants nothing of me, he sees only you. ‘Twas that way from the beginning, but I thought my willing ways and your shrewish tongue would bring him to favor me. I wanted naught but to be his leman. But he has cast me out. Because of you.”

  Alayna was completely confused and more than a little frightened. Trying to sort out her message, she asked, “Of whom do you speak?”

  Focusing on Alayna, the vacant look was gone for a moment. “I watch him, but he does not see me. But I see all. I see more than he knows.” She paused, a look of stark anguish contorting her plump prettiness. “He spoke your name in his sleep,” she whispered. Then, in a flash, the girl fled from the room.

  Dear God, the girl was insane! As if Alayna’s plight were not dire enough, she was now plagued with the ravings of a madwoman.

  She could spare the deranged servant no more thoughts. The absence of her belongings could mean only one thing. Lucien expected her in his chamber tonight.

  As to why he had done this, there could be no mistake.

  He could barely stand the sight of her, and now he wanted to lie with her? It defied reason. But then, she had never been able to make any sense of that man.

  What would happen to her if she refused to go? No doubt the cur would send a troop of soldiers after her, dragging her kicking and screaming if they had to.

  If she refused, would he take her by force? She did not think he would. De Montregnier was many things, but a ravager of woman was not one of them. At least so far as she knew…no, he was not. She would simply go to him and tell him she would not submit to him.

  As she made her way to the master’s chamber, her mind was filled with one question: what would he do? It was a sin for a wife to deny her husband, and this same day she had promised before God to obey him.

  Good Lord, what had she gotten herself into?

  He was waiting. The door was ajar and he was seated in one of the hearth chairs. Rising, his voice was calm, almost soft, as he said, “Close the door.”

  She obeyed, bracing herself. “What have you done with my belongings?”

  He walked toward her. “They are here.”

  His expression was unreadable. In the absence of his customary scowl, his features were even and pleasant, but there was a strange kind of look in his eyes. They seemed to burn like smoldering coals as he studied her. Unable to meet that scalding gaze, she turned away.

  He came to stand before her. “I have been told I behaved poorly. Agravar, who is forever berating me for my lack of manners—especially with you—has made it a point to inform me of this fact I suppose it is true.” After pausing, he added, “I apologize for that.” He was so composed, with a quiet sadness that was disturbing. It set her nerves on edge more than any thundering rage he could have mustered for the occasion.

  He continued, “Understand I had no choice but to insist on the marriage. You know my reasons, so I will not belabor the point. But it leaves us in a rather awkward situation.” He seemed to be searching for the right words. “We are off to a bad beginning.”

  “It is easy for you to be so gracious when you have won, de Montregnier,” she breathed, not sure if she wanted to challenge his mood. How could she trust this unexpected gentleness?

  “Aye, I have thus far. But tell me, demoiselle, what is it I have won?”

  She frowned, confused. She had never seen de Montregnier like this, pensive and thoughtful, almost penitent. Only that one time in the armory. Something of that pain was in him now and it made her nervous and strangely excited.

  What had he won? Everything! And now, he would ask even more from her, which reminded her of the matter at hand. “Why did you have my things brought here?” Was that her voice? It sounded so meek and unsure in her ears.

  “Because they belong here, as do you.”

  A surge of emotion caught in her throat. “I did not think you would wish…I never thought…you have always seemed to dislike me so much—”

  His brows shot up. “Have I?” He seemed to consider this for a moment, as if it were a singularly new idea. “’Tis a curious thought. Have I then been so unkind to you?”

  “How can you ask that?” she asked, incredulous. He must be playing some kind of game with her, some cruel jest for his amusement. “You have done nothing but harass me since you arrived. You have acted the knave, through and through. I would have thought you hated me!”

  He smiled halfheartedly. “I could say the same of you. Indeed, lady, you do seem to be able to try me as no other.”

  “‘Twas you who started it,” Alayna d
efended sullenly. “I only asked to be allowed to leave.”

  “But, as you know, I could not have that.”

  “Your precious revenge.”

  “Aye, my revenge,” his disconnected voice repeated. “But we are beyond that now.”

  “We are the same as we were when we started. A few words spoken before a priest cannot change anything.”

  He did not seem to have heard her. “You thought I hated you?” he asked, as if the thought just now struck him as incredibly ridiculous.

  “Of course I did!” she exploded irritably before she could check her words. She froze and waited for his response in wary expectation. Incredibly he gave her an indulgent smile.

  “That temper of yours is something to reckon with. Do you know it makes your eyes positively spark green fire? And your mouth sets in the most irritating little pout.”

  “You are not making any sense,” she snapped.

  “You must know I find you beautiful. I admitted it the first time we met.” He paused. “I did not intend to hurt you.”

  “Then why did you? Why must you always treat me like some nitwit child whose wishes are unimportant? Oh, assuredly, my feelings are nothing next to your grand scheming ambitions—you told me so yourself. So do not tell me that you never meant to hurt me. You did so, and you did not care a whit about it!”

  “I did what I always do, what I must do to survive. Is it so unbelievable that I might regret that, even while I have no choice?”

  “What amusement is this? You want me to believe you are actually sorry for everything you have done?”

  He sighed heavily. “You really do think me a beast.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Sorry has nothing to do with it. It really is not so complex. I have had to fight for everything I have, and I have been doing so for a very long time. I simply do not wish to spend the rest of my life fighting with you.”

  “You should have thought of that before you insisted on this unsuitable marriage.”

  “Perhaps I should have.”

  Alayna studied his face to see if he was sincere, or simply mocking her. “Then you regret it?”

  “What if I do?” He shrugged. “Married we are. And so what of it? Would you carry on your anger indefinitely?”

  She shook her head in disbelief. “I thought this marriage was all for the sake of the barony. You have what you want. Why do you wish to…lie with me when you abhor the very sight of me?”

  His eyes flickered over her in a way that affected her even more than his touch. “Nothing could be further from the truth. Abhorrence is not what I feel when I look at you, I must admit that, Alayna. Far, far from it.”

  Pressing her hands to her head, Alayna tried to stave off the crush of this discordant revelation. “I cannot be your true wife. I will never accept it.”

  He became very, very still. His features slowly gathered together like storm clouds to form the cold scowl she was so used to seeing. She watched, spellbound by his anger swelling to life, a rage she had caused with her heartless words.

  “Did you not swear to do that very thing just today?” he said, his voice heavy with bitterness.

  “I do not know why you want me!” she tried to explain desperately. “I did not expect this!”

  “I do not give a damn what you expected. Now that you know what it is I expect, what will you do?”

  “My God, I do not understand you at all!” she cried.

  “Aye,” he said darkly, his eyes suddenly flaring with black fire. “You understand me not at all!”

  “Nor do I care to, I just wish to be left alone!”

  “That is impossible, wife!”

  Suddenly outraged, he stalked a few steps away then whirled back around.

  “Do you have any idea why I have done all this, this ‘precious revenge,’ as you call it? Why I would exhaust my coffers to mount an army? Why I would take on a shire that has been run into the ground so far that twenty years will not return to me what I have already spent to put things to rights? And why, most of all, would I shackle myself with a wife whose only delight, as you have informed me again and again, is dreaming of the day she will never set eyes on me? Why, I ask you, why do you think I have done any of it!”

  He was working into one of his terrible rages, but this time it was coupled with an anguish she could not fathom. It had the power to silence her in awe.

  “Did you think it was greed?” he barked. “Greed! Well, seeing as I favor expensive luxury and flout my riches so freely, I can understand that misunderstanding. The trouble is I do none of this. Nay, lady, ’tis not greed that drives me, for I have no taste for ermine or jewels or any of the things that gold can buy.

  “Power, perhaps? Is that what you think? Again, I ask you to witness how I have sat complacently in the comforts of Edgar’s abundance and played the lazy baron. Rather, you have seen me drenched with sweat and grime, riding out at daybreak to work alongside the meanest of my serfs, coming back long after dark to the reward of a cold supper. I have not even asked the kitchens to wait the evening meal upon my return, for God’s sake! So tell me, how have I abused my power?”

  He was breathless, spent after his tirade. “So what, then—what is my reason?”

  She whispered, “Tell me. I do want to know. Why?”

  A harsh laugh escaped him and he glanced about the room as if searching for some assistance. “Peace. That is all. I have done all of this just to find some peace for myself.”

  Silence descended like a finely spun web, binding them together. Alayna could not move, even when he closed the distance between them in a few long strides.

  “Where is my peace? I have not found it. And now, with you as my wife, I never shall.” If she did not know his arrogance, she would have thought his voice held a plea. “Put your bitterness aside. You are my wife, you shall be mother to my children. That decision has been made. Let it be, then. No more fighting, no more of this incessant struggle.”

  “I never thought you meant this marriage to be real,” she said softly.

  “Well, I do. I mean it to be a real marriage in every sense. And I will give you no cause to deny it as anything else. I will not, like your ill-fated first husband, fail in my duty.”

  His eyes were again dark and fierce. They burned into her flesh where they touched her and panic returned. His large hands grasped her shoulders, not hurting her but for the sheer affront that gesture of possessiveness sparked within. He was so close she could smell the clean masculine scent of him. It made her dizzy.

  A small sound escaped her, a kind of strangled protest. Her rapier wit seemed to have deserted her as she realized she was his wife. She would have to give him everything he asked of her.

  Her stubborness rebelled. In a voice devoid of connection, she said, “No.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Lucien was aware he had failed miserably. Frustrated, helpless, he wanted to lash back, dole out some of the hurt she had just inflicted.

  Roughly he yanked her to him. She fell limply against his chest like a doll. His hands came up on either side of her head, tangling in her hair as he fought to control the urge to crush his mouth against hers.

  Nay. Nay! He had said that he wanted no more of these battles, and he had meant it. He did not want to start their marriage like this. He would not force her any further.

  She was watching him, her eyes wide and frightened like a doe’s. Her lips were parted and he found that he could not, after all, resist.

  Lowering his head until his mouth barely touched hers, he kissed her. Slowly, slowly, he gathered her in his arms, almost sighing with the soft feel of her pressed against him.

  God, he wanted her.

  It had been hard to accept, but he had known it for some time, just as he had known that he was helpless to control it. It frightened him. He had never thought to need a woman, even in a physical way, which was surely all this was.

  Yet this soft creature, so remarkably yielding, was filling his senses with intoxicat
ing desire. Could it be he was imagining her response? She seemed to cling to him with a helpless kind of urgency.

  He broke away, searching her eyes to see what secrets he could glean in those depths, but she would not allow it. She struggled to free herself.

  “My kisses do not please you, madam?” he said, annoyed with his own show of weakness.

  “You know they do not.”

  “I think you are lying. Do not disappoint me, Alayna. You have always been brutally honest.” He forced himself to relax his grip, sending her stumbling back. “So tell me what may I do to please you.”

  “You will not do it.”

  “Let me guess—divorce you. Is that it?”

  Her lip curled as she tilted her head to its familiar angle. “Why do you keep taunting me in this cruel game? I cannot wait to be rid of you and your imperious, pompous, boorish—You will regret it all when my mother arrives.”

  “And what do you imagine will happen then, my lady love?” Derision dripped from every word.

  Alayna did not flinch. She leveled her emerald gaze at him and said, “Then I will see your head served to me upon a silver platter for what you have done.”

  Lucien was stunned by the vehemence with which she spoke and the sneer that marred her lovely features.

  How could he have ever thought to have put the battle to rest?

  “Why then, Salome, it seems that my days may be quite numbered until that fateful hour. I am all atremble.” Her eyes darkened at his caustic mockery. “So, as the troubadours preach, let us make merry now, for tomorrow may bring sorrow and death.”

  His hands shot out, catching her by the shoulders, and wrenched her to him once again. “Come, wife,” he rasped. “Let us make merry tonight.”

  His mouth closed over hers cruelly this time, crushing and bruising as he had wanted to do before. Gone were his good intentions, the careful tenderness, and much of his restraint, as well.