Knight of Her Heart (Conquering the Heart) (2 page)

His voice lowered and his head drew closer. “You might be fortunate. Collins may decide that your tongue is worth keeping.”

His tongue snaked out again—this time licking fully and slowly over her lips. The slimy contact almost made her gag in revulsion as she strained her head back on her neck to increase the distance between them. Disbelief pounded through her veins. She possessed nothing but contempt for her guardian. She’d long known that he was foul-tempered and often cruel to both servants and animals, but he had never touched her or spoken to her in this licentious way. Everything in her reeled that this man could treat her so inappropriately. Each of his words and actions was a wicked betrayal of his custodial responsibilities.

“Aye, lovely Lisette. Many a time I’ve considered putting that tongue to good use myself. Teaching you to use it as an instrument of pleasure for a man instead of the rapier-like device you wield to your own detriment.”

Bile rose from her stomach at his vulgar words, scalding her throat. Willing herself to keep hold of her wits, desperate to think of some way to escape this horrifying situation, she took a deep breath. That only made things worse as her nostrils filled with the repugnant smell of him.

She tried to twist free of him but ’twas to no avail. Her unsuccessful attempts only made him laugh lewdly as he held her tighter against him. One huge paw cupped her buttocks and pressed her hips against his so she could feel the shocking hardness of his arousal.

“If your maidenhead was not so valuable, ’twould have been mine long ago.”

His words were nauseating and for a second she was sure she would be physically ill.

“Still, I could have you pleasure me in other ways,” he continued as his eyes roved over her.

His head lowered again. This time he crushed her mouth against his. As she gasped, he seized upon her open mouth and pushed his tongue inside.

Sickened by the invasion and by the taste of him, Lisette didn’t stop to contemplate the consequences of her actions. She bit down. Hard. His shriek of pain was muffled against her mouth. Her jaw locked until she tasted his blood. Waves of nausea buffeted through her. Realising the enormity of what she had done, she tried to push him away, but he held her. His hands squeezed around her neck and choked her.

Fighting for breath, and mayhap for her very life, Lisette slipped her hand into the concealed pocket of her kirtle, fumbled urgently, and withdrew a small dagger. She brought the sharp tip up against his side, ready to thrust up and puncture his lung if he failed to release her.

As soon as the blade made contact her guardian flung her aside.

Lisette’s every breath was relief yet agony through the torturous pain in her neck. She glared at him and rasped out, “If you ever so much as lay a finger on me again, I swear you shall not see the next sunrise.”             

“You contemptible whore!” he shouted, but his words were thick and almost unintelligible. He raised a kerchief to his mouth to absorb the flow of blood which trickled out.

There was only a slight degree of satisfaction to be gained from the knowledge that he would suffer from her bite for at least the next couple of days. He would seek his revenge and she must be on her guard day and night, waiting for him to strike again. A crime like this would never be allowed to go unpunished.

“How could you?” she bit out with contempt. “Genevieve and I should be under your protection.” 

As soon as the words were out she realised ’twas pointless trying to prick his conscience. He didn’t have one. His eyes burnt hot as the village smithy’s furnace, but he made no move toward her.

“Send Ingrith,” he commanded thickly.

Surprisingly his hand went again to his crotch. This time he fondled himself more vigorously—her violence appeared to have excited him. The extent of her loathsome guardian’s perverted wickedness left her reeling.

“Go.” The word was only just intelligible.

Lisette needed no more bidding as he began unbuttoning his breeches. She fled from his solar and down the wooden spiral staircase as quickly as she could lest he change his mind and have her back before him. Urgently she scanned the great hall. Her guardian’s favourite wench was scrubbing the wooden benches and looked up from her task as Lisette approached to deliver the message.

“Lord Blake requires your presence immediately in his solar,” she told the serving woman shakily.

Ingrith curtsied then cast a speculative gaze upon Lisette. The servant’s lips formed a knowing smile when she looked at Lisette’s neck. “Start sometin’ ’e couldn’t finish wit’ you, did ’e, m’lady?”

Lisette drew herself up and adopted what she hoped was a haughty expression. She would not be mocked by one of her guardian’s whores. With as much dignity as she could muster she commanded, “Don’t keep him waiting, Ingrith.” Then, with her back ramrod straight, Lisette exited the great hall. She had to get away—to think about her guardian’s behaviour and his plans for her future. ’Twas essential she come up with a plan to protect both herself and Genevieve.

Needing to put as much distance as possible between herself and her guardian, Lisette walked out of the keep toward the village. The forest would provide her with peace.

She hadn’t gone far when a frisson of fear shivered along her spine. Adrenaline surged through her as she sensed someone was following her. Once again she reached for her dagger.

Relief flooded through her as she turned and saw her loyal servant, Ysabel, a little further back. Ysabel waved her arms, urging her to return to the keep. ’Twas impossible for Lisette to return until she had cleared her head. She only just managed to reach the edge of the forest before she was physically ill.

“M’lady Lisette!” Ysabel’s thick French accent was a testimony to her anxiety. Her accent was always more pronounced when she was worried. “
Tu es malade! Revenu avec moi.”

“I’m not ill, Ysabel,” Lisette corrected, her voice still raspy from her guardian’s attack. “Just purging Lord Blake from my system.”

“What’s ’appened, m’lady? I saw you running down from your guardian’s solar. Oh!” She raised one hand to an open mouth. “Lisette,
ma fille
, your neck...What’s ’e done to you?"

Automatically reaching to touch the area where Lord Blake’s fingers had pressed, Lisette felt tears prick like the points of dozens of fine tapestry needles. Her hands shook. Shock began to set in. She needed the freedom of the forest to calm her. Needed the reassurance that she was out of her guardian’s reach until she could marshal her strength. She must also devise a plan to thwart him if he tried to molest her again. First, however, she had to know that Genevieve was safe. ’Twas not improbable that the current Lord Blake would lash out at her young sister when he was finished with Ingrith.

“Where is Genevieve?” Lisette demanded.

“With cook in the kitchen.”

That much was a relief.

“I need to get to the stream, Ysabel.” She forged down the pathway through the dense woodland, desperate for the cool, clear water of the stream to rinse out her mouth and wash away her guardian’s touch. She would cleanse him from her skin, but it would be impossible to wipe the encounter from her mind.

Ysabel trailed close behind her, clucking like a mother hen, but refrained from speaking until Lisette had finished scrubbing at her face, neck, mouth and hands.

“Tell me what ’appened.”

“Before he mauled me,” she ignored Ysabel’s outraged cry and sat down on a tree stump, “he told me that I am to marry Lord Collins.”

“Saints in ’eaven.” The older woman made the sign of the cross on herself.

Despair clawed at Lisette’s stomach, twisted its talons deep into her abdomen and clasped her heart more fiercely than one of her guardian’s raptors. “Five young wives of Lord Collins dead in as many years,” Lisette stated slowly. “Am I to be the next bride to fall victim to the Collins’ curse?”

“Curse? There is no curse,” Ysabel told her forcefully. “Surely you ’ave realised that each death was suspicious?”

Lisette shook her head. “I’ve heard the servants talking about the Collins’ curse. They say that Lord Collins killed the husband of a witch when he was younger and proceeded to rape her. ’Tis said that she put a curse on all his brides.”

“Bah! ’Tis not a curse, I tell you, but the man ’imself taking lives.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Lord Collins is surely a murderer,” Ysabel whispered after her gaze darted about the forest and she moved closer. “We must never be ’eard to speak of this, but I ’ave my suspicions about Lord Collins. ’Is first wife died in ’er sleep of unknown causes. The next tripped down the stairs and broke ’er neck,” she recounted with disapproval.

“His next wife fell into the well and drowned,” Lisette said as she remembered how beautiful that young woman had been. Her brain raced in a riot of confusion, wondering whether there was some truth in Ysabel’s suspicions.

“Nobody falls down a well unless they ’ave ’ad too much ale—or  ’ave been pushed!” Ysabel declared.

Lisette’s jaw dropped and she stared at her maid in open-mouthed horror. Ysabel was right. The series of tragedies defied belief. If not a curse, then surely the brides must have been victims of foul play. “What about the others?”

“Number four is said to ’ave gathered some poisonous berries and eaten them, mistaking them for a different variety,” Ysabel went on in a scornful tone. “As if any woman would be so foolish—unless she wanted to escape from Lord Collins and ate the berries knowing ’twas the only way out of the marriage.”

Fear clutched at Lisette’s heart. “How did his last wife die?”

“News of ’is last wife’s death reached us only days ago, m’lady. She is said to ’ave fallen from ’er horse and suffered internal bleeding—although there was nobody to witness the accident.” Ysabel nodded. “
Oui
, ’tis all very co-incidental, as is the timing of each death.”

“I know Lord Collins has a reputation for being a swine, but why are you so certain he killed his wives? Surely—?”

“M’lady, each
accident
’as taken place almost a year after the marriages took place.”

“I don’t understand the significance of that.”

“Lord Collins is obsessed with producing an heir. ’E doesn’t want ’is nephew to in’erit the title or the estate.”

“And?”

“And all of the women ’ave failed to conceive an heir for Lord Collins in that time, even though the servants from ’is keep gossip that ’e coupled with ’is brides relentlessly. The lord also bedded many serving girls but none of the women’s bellies ’ave ripened with ’is fruit.”

Ysabel paced back and forth along the bank of the stream shaking her head vigorously as she continued, “I think ‘e only gives ’is brides a year to become with child. If they do not conceive by then, I think ’e murders them!”

“What you are saying...! Dear Lord, the man is evil—more evil than Lord Blake.” Lisette shuddered. “I’ve always known our guardian hated Genevieve and me, but for him to agree to give Lord Collins my hand in marriage if he suspects that...” She could not bring herself to continue. Hopelessness filled her. Actually suffering as the wife of Lord Collins was now the better of the evils she faced. If Ysabel was right, Lisette may have little more than a year to live. Then her little sister could meet a similar fate.

Ysabel stopped pacing and sat down next to Lisette. “Your guardian owes Lord Collins a gambling debt. I ’eard Ingrith telling one of  ’er friends that Lord Blake gambled ’eavily with Lord Collins and lost.”

“Stupid man!” Lisette cried. “Lord Collins has the luck of the devil. Nobody ever wins against him in the game of dice!”

“That is also suspicious,
non
? But the lords still gamble against him. Lord Collins is trying to raise more money as ’e wants to gain favour in King ’enry’s court. ’E thinks that if ’e ’elps finance the king’s fight in France, ’e will put an end to the rumour that ’e was plotting against the king with Richard of Conisburgh to put the Earl of March on the throne.”

“Then surely Lord Collins can be convinced to claim his debt in gold coins rather than my hand in marriage?”

Ysabel shook her head. “There ’ave been plenty of others ’ave lost their gold to Lord Collins in gaming. Lord Blake must be the only one able to offer a young girl in marriage.”

Lisette felt her eyes widen as a thought struck her. “Ysabel, you said Lord Collins’ last wife has only just died?”

“
Oui
.”

“Then her death could not have been an accident, for Lord Blake said that he had promised me to Lord Collins at their last meeting—”

“And your guardian ’as not met with Lord Collins since ’is last dice game...over a month ago,” Ysabel finished hurriedly.

“So the death of Lady Collins was planned!” Lisette paused to take some deep breaths as her heart beat so fast she was dizzy. “My guardian told me that he would have taken my maidenhead himself ’twere it not so valuable for him.”

Ysabel jumped to her feet. Her features were tight with outrage. “’E is positively evil,” she vented. “’Tis no wonder your mother refused to marry ’im. Thank God your father returned ’ome from the tournaments in time to claim your mother as ’is bride and save ’er from marriage to this monster.”

Lisette silently agreed. Ysabel had told her on more than one occasion in the past how the current Lord Blake had coveted his cousin’s wife.

“That is, of course, why Lord Blake ’ates you and Genevieve so much,” Ysabel continued. ’E’s a man scorned and you two are living proof of your parents love—for theirs was a true affair of the ’eart. Their love was as romantic as any courtly love sung of by the troubadours in their ballads.”

“And because we resemble Mama, I suppose that each time he sees us he is reminded of the way she rejected his suit,” Lisette mused.

Ysabel nodded. “You are right.”

Lisette pressed her lips together to stop them from wobbling with sadness. “My father was such a good man. What was he thinking leaving Genevieve and me in his cousin’s care?”

“Your father knew what ’is cousin was like. ’E would never ’ave left you under ’is cousin’s guardianship. I still believe Lord Blake forged those documents.”