My Rebellious Heart (18 page)

"Nay!"

His fingers drummed against the ornately carved arm of his chair. "Did he force you to his will?"

She grew desperate. "Not in the way that you think—"

Edward spoke in dipped, abrupt tones. "What I think is that you should provide me with specifics."

Shana trembled, for she knew she had no choice but to accede to his demand. "He stripped my clothing from me,"— her voice was scarcely audible, for the shame which scalded her cheeks was almost more than she could bear —"and then he made me share his bed these past two nights."

"And did he lay his hands on you as no man should touch a woman, lest she be a whore or a wife?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then marriage to him would lessen the stain on your honor. 'Tis the only way to set the matter aright."

She cried out unthinkingly. 'In your eyes, Sire, not mine!"

Edward's eyes grew chil . His gaze shifted to a point just beyond her. "My lord earl, do you wish to defend yourself against her charges?"

With a jolt Shana realized Thorne had resumed his place beside her. Rigid and stiff, she could feel his anger, as great as her shock. "She speaks the truth," he proclaimed flatly.

"Then my decision stands. You shall marry her."

Shana recoiled in horror; Thorne bristled with suppressed fury—the wench had truly discovered she spoke once too often! Edward, meanwhile, gestured for a page. "See that the princess's belongings are removed from the earl's chamber and she is instal ed in a chamber of her own," he instructed the boy.

He rose to his feet, eyes agleam. A sly smile on his lips, he bid the pair before him turn and face the crowd. At a signal from him, one of his men shouted for quiet. Within seconds the hal was silent as a tomb. Edward reached for Shana's hand, then placed the earl's atop hers.

"We have a joyous occasion to celebrate!" he cal ed out in a deep, booming tone that commanded every eye to rest upon them. "Shana, Princess of Wales, has just consented to marry Thorne de Wilde, Earl of Weston!" With a flourish he raised their joined hands high.

There was a stunned moment of silence before someone started to applaud—the king, Shana recognized hazily—then others soon began to follow suit, until the noise made her want to scream and clap her hands over her ears to shut out the thunderous clamor.

The king himself led her to the table, seating her on his right, gesturing Thorne to his left.

"Milady, I have in my possession a dozen lengths of cloth I'd thought to present to Eleanor upon my return to London. But there is always more to be had, and it occurs to me you will be in need of a wedding gown—and a trousseau. I do not think my queen would mind that I choose to present it to you instead, for she is very fond of Thorne. Aye, 'twil be our wedding gift to you, mine and Eleanor's. Indeed, Shana, I promise you a wedding you'll not forget!"

In some far distant corner of her mind, Shana registered that the king seemed wel pleased with himself. But she could offer neither scorn nor thanks, for her insides had twisted into a sick, ugly knot. She could scarce eat a single bite of the delicious fare served in honor of the king. As soon as the last tray of sweetmeats had been offered, she pleaded to be excused, citing the rich fare had not agreed with her stomach. Edward frowned, a

wordless reproach in his eyes, but in the end he summoned a maid to escort her to her new chamber.

Edward turned his attention to Thorne once she was gone. "You'll soon see the wisdom of this marriage, Thorne. You alone know how I've bided my time, hoping that Llywelyn would see the folly of his ways. But no, he and his brother have united and entered into a plot against me—and the blasted Dragon has joined them as wel !" Edward's features tightened with displeasure for a fleeting instant. After a moment, he damped a hand on his knight's shoulder.

"I don't blame you for bedding so comely a maid, Thorne, and we all know how hot-blooded these Welsh are! You are well aware I've no wish to see more bloodshed, and an alliance between a Welsh princess and one of my most trusted lieutenants could prove beneficial. If this marriage sees an end to hostilities, all the better. 'Tis my hope that the mingling of English and Welsh blood will placate both sides. Besides, 'tis long past time you took a wife, eh?"

Thorne's smile was a trifle stiff. He wondered fleetingly what the king would say if he told him the truth—first, that the lady was hardly a maid; second, that he had no desire to breed fire-breathing dragons with Shana, princess or no!

"If you are advising, Sire, that I should beget an heir as soon as possible, I think it only fair to warn you—I shal have to keep careful watch over my weapons lest the lady rob me of my manhood. Indeed, I've no doubt she would sooner carve my heart out than see it set before her."

Edward chuckled. "Since when has a mere woman—be she saucy or gentle as a summer breeze—swayed you from your goal? I foresaw in you the ability to bring the Welsh to heel.

You are just the man to bring your wife to heel as wel !"

Thorne's lips smiled, but inside he was seething. Although Shana's face had been pasty white when she'd left the table, that dainty nose of hers was tipped as high as ever. Nay, he was hardly moved to pity, for if the wench had seen fit to refrain from slandering him, they might have been spared this damnable marriage! He clenched his jaw and swal owed heartily of his mead. God, he wished he'd done the deed of which he'd been accused. He'd been a fool to curb his lust, especial y when the lady had totd him over and over how she'd eagerly spread her thighs for another. Indeed, the prospect of marriage to that haughty bitch so repel ed him that he found himself reaching for his mead far more often than was his wont. He did not think of the woman soon to be his bride with eager longing, but ruthlessly pushed aside the hel ish path the king would make him trod.

Upstairs, Shana's thoughts were not so very different. Tears stung her eyes as she thought of Merwen and all she had left behind. She cursed Thorne de Wilde and his English king along with him. For with the advent of King Edward, all her wistful hopes—her cherished dreams of a future with her beloved Barris—had slipped from her grasp like water through her fingers. She decided bitterly that the only good to come of Edward's arrival was that she now had her own chamber, and need not share her bed with the earl.

But it was only a matter of time, a little voice taunted, before she would share it again ...

A shudder wracked her body. She slipped from the bed and hugged her arms about herself, shivering anew. Though the chamber she'd been given was wide and spacious, she felt suddenly cloistered and shut in; the air seemed stale and stuffy. She hesitated but a moment, then slipped back into her gown and slippers.

The passageway was dark except for a candle

notched high in the wal here and there. Her steps faltered as she neared the great hal . The raucous shouts and laughter had not abated in the last hours, and a hasty glance down the stair confirmed those below were stil avidly engrossed in food and drink. Holding her breath, she crept across the narrow gal ery that spanned the hall. From there it was not far to the wall-walk, where she and Cedric had strol ed only that morning.

She paid no heed to the chil of the night, but welcomed the rush of the cool wind on her cheeks. Moonlight spread its gilded veil over the land, but the peaceful sanctuary she sought was simply not to be. She leaned against the battlements, weaned in mind and spirit, but unable to quel the single thought which tol ed through her mind again and again. She was to marry the earl. Sweet God in heaven, the earl.

A hand touched her shoulder. With a gasp she looked up into the close-set eyes of Lord Newbury.

"Lady Shana, what brings you out at such a late hour? I thought you would be abed."

"I could not sleep," she said briefly. A prickle of unease tingled down her spine even as his eyes roved boldly down to her breasts and back again.

"The earl is remiss to let you wander about without escort, alone and unprotected— especial y on the night of your betrothal."

"There is no need for pretense. Lord Newbury. We both know the earl is hardly'enamored of me, nor I of him."

He edged closer. "Then perhaps you'l not be averse to a kiss."

"\ think not—" she began coolly.

"Come now, milady. You are not yet wed. Under the circumstances, Thorne can hardly begrudge me a taste of his soon-to-be wife. After al , Castle Langley wil soon be his."

"His?" Shana was confused. "But Langley is the king's—"

"Exactly, milady. On Lord Montgomery's death, title to Castle Langley reverted to the king, to hold or bestow as he sees fit." He smiled at her obvious confusion. "We al know Wales cannot hold out against the might of England. The king summoned the four of us—the Bastard Earl, Sir Quentin, Sir Geoffrey and myself—and dangled Castle Langley as reward for a job wel done."

An icy jolt went through her. "What! You mean Edward wil cede Langley as the spoils of victory if—"

"Not if, milady, but when, for 'tis only a matter of time til the Welsh are put in their place once and for al . Surely you know this." Shana was too shocked to argue. "And aye, Edward is a shrewd one. Langley is the bait to keep us here, though we al know the Bastard Earl is the king's favorite, for 'twas he who was chosen to command our united forces."

"But what if this fight drags on for months? The king is owed but forty days' service!"

"But who among us would dare turn his back on the chance to be the next Earl of Langley, whether forty days or four hundred? Why, I'd give ten years of my life if I thought 1 could gam such booty as this castle!" His arm swept wide in silent indication. "For what if Thorne de Wilde should fal out of favor with the king? What if he should meet with the arrow sprung from a Welsh longbow? And so like fools we will wait and watch and do our duty unto our king." His lip curled in disgust. "The Bastard Earl stands to gain Langley. But by God, he'll not deny me the pleasure to be had from you!"

He caught her against him in a brutal hold, his fingers digging like talons into the soft tlesh of her upper arms. A choked cry of revulsion burst from

her lips as his mouth ground against hers, open and wet. One hand groped for her breast.

Clawing, gasping, Shana struggled to free herself. His tongue sought to ram itself deep within her mouth; she gagged and bit down instinctively.

Newbury's head jerked back. He released her with a vicious curse. "By God, bitch, 'tis time you learned a lesson!" He reached for her again, but Shana brought her knee up hard against his groin.

Newbury doubled over with a grunt. 'Indeed," intruded a familiar, amused voice, "it seems a lesson wel learned." Shana's head whipped around to see the earl lounging against an archer's window slit. She began to fume—'twas just like him to stand there and do naught while Newbury mauled her!

But by the time Newbury straightened, Thorne was there, standing but a breath behind her.

"Methinks the lady is a trifle too lively for you, Lord Newbury."

"She would not be so were she mine for the night!" Newbury's voice was hoarse with fury.

"What! Do you suggest I turn my back and allow you to take her to your bed?"

"You've sampled her wares these past two nights—she wil be yours for the taking after your marriage! Aye'" Newbury proclaimed with glittering eyes. "Give me this one night with her!"

Thorne laughed and spoke lazily. "I suggest you find a more sweet-tempered wench for the night, Lord Newbury. This one has already tried once to put an end to me—do you truly wish to risk such harm yourself?"

A wench, was she? Oh, damn his arrogant, English hide! She would have spun and fled, leaving each of them to the other, but his hand snaked out and closed around her wrist. He pul ed her to his side.

"Mayhap," he said lightly, "we should let her choose between us "

His suggestion brought her upright. Saints above, was the man daft? Al the furies of hell were alive in her now. "I'd infinitely rather have neither of you!"

"Nonetheless, princess, you must choose."

Shana's glare burned hotter. Triumph and mockery and laughter gleamed in his eyes. Shana longed for the daring to prove him wrong, but Newbury made her skin crawl.

A slight rustle from behind her diverted her attention. The trio glanced around just as Sir Quentin stepped from the shadows.

He bowed and spoke quickly. "Forgive my intrusion, milords. I thought I'd have a word with one of the night sentries." He turned as if to leave. Newbury stopped him with a guttural laugh. "No need to scurry off, Sir Quentin. The king has granted Lady Shana's hand in marriage to the Earl of Weston. But tonight my Lord Weston has generously offered the lady a choice the king did not—my arms or his! Why, you are just the man we need! You may stand as witness while she chooses!"

Sir Quentin's gaze flitted uneasily to Thorne, who merely quirked a brow and shrugged.

"Choose, milady! Do you prefer Weston—or me?"

Sir Quentin glanced uncomfortably among the three of them. Newbury leered at her, while the earl stood with the faintest of smiles on his lips. Shana felt a spurt of ire. Oh, he was so smug, so certain that she would choose htm over Newbury. But neither of them cared a whit for her feelings in the matter. To them it was naught but a contest!

"You are right, Lord Newbury," she said evenly. "I have a choice the king did not offer me."

Her

chin tipped high. "Therefore I choose Sir Quentin!" She stepped to his side.

The disbelief which flitted across Thorne's face was gratifying, but there was scarce time to savor it. Newbury cursed foul y.

"Nay, milady, you wil not get off so easily! You have but two choices, not three!"

Shana did not budge from Sir Quentin's side. Her gaze tangled briefly with Thorne's before she cool y turned her head aside.