Return of the Rose (22 page)

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Authors: Theresa Ragan

BOOK: Return of the Rose
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She took hold of his arm and brushed her thumb against his warm skin. “You could help me find her. What harm could it do? Lady Amanda is out there somewhere,” she said, gesturing towards the window, noting the familiar twitch beneath the hard muscle of his jaw. “I have no reason to lie to you. Open yourself to the possibility. If I’m truly your wife, then there shouldn’t be any lies between us.”

His brow creased and when he spoke an edge of impatience and resentment crept into his voice. “I have often wondered when you would continue this game of yours. So ‘tis to be now, is it? Too bad you find yourself so discontent here at Braddock that you must resort to little games and dangerous pranks. Unfortunately, I like having you nearby. I quite enjoy your lustful play between the sheets. For the time being anyhow,” he added mockingly.

He bent over her, slid his hands over her silk covered breasts as he brushed kisses across her cheeks, her neck, and her shoulders.

She fell back under his weight, refusing to respond to his sensuous kisses or the heat of his body as he glided gently over her like a boa constrictor. His words hit her like a thump to the head. He wanted her for one thing—a plaything for his bed. He never listened to a word she said. He’d done nothing but humiliate her since her arrival at Braddock. How she’d managed to attain feelings for a cocky, arrogant swine was beyond comprehension. But she had, and that was a horrifying problem, because even now her body begged for his attention.

A whisper to the ear, a look, a touch was all it took for him to excite her. He nibbled on her ear, but she refused to respond. Instead she lay like a corpse ready to be buried.

He lifted his head. “So, this is how it will be?” he questioned, his tone smooth yet biting. “You are my wife now and you will respond appropriately to your husband whenever he sees fit for you to do so.”

Her eyes burned and she squirmed beneath his body, but it was useless. “I’ve tried to understand you. But you won’t open up to me. You’ll know the truth someday, Derek. I only hope it’s not too late when you do.”

He looked suddenly distant and sad. There was no reaching him. “You know what your problem is? I think you like me.” She stared into his black eyes. “I think you like me a lot and it’s killing you because you don’t know what to do about it. You think women are callous, selfish people undeserving of respect, but you’re wrong. You aren’t the only one who was abandoned by his parents. I, too, was left behind…a sick baby left on a stranger’s doorstep. But I was lucky enough to have been found by a lonely woman, a woman who found it in her heart to love me. Growing up, I never felt as if I belonged, but I always felt loved…because I allowed myself to be loved.” She kept her gaze on his. “Matti and Hugo love you as if you were their very own. All of the people here at Braddock love you.”

She saw him flinch and added, “All of that bitterness inside of you prevents you from seeing the truth.”

“Touching,” he said without passion.

She shook her head sadly. “Once I find the Earl of Kensington you’ll see. Until then, go ahead and lock me in the dungeon for denying you, because I’d rather be stuck with the rats than be pinned beneath a heartless warrior such as you.”

“Too bad,” he said mockingly, “for tonight I hoped to plant you with seed so that you might give me a son. Have no fear, my sweet, for I will quickly teach you to be a respectable wife. It will not take long, I swear.”

Morgan’s heart wilted as she stared straight ahead, past his taunting face, focusing in on a cobweb that dangled and swayed from the beamed ceiling. He kissed her cheek and softly touched her soft skin. “Your body deceives you,” he said huskily.

Her spine tingled and her fingers grasped quietly at the blankets beneath her. She spotted the maker of the web and felt only pity for the insect as it guarded the wrapped and wriggling prey beneath its spindly legs.

Derek felt her attempt to resist him. He had intended to have her whether she chose to participate or not, but now he thought otherwise. Without her warm arms around him, ‘twas not enough. Shame and sorrow filled him. “So this is the game you intend to play although ‘tis plain to see that you want me as much as I want you?”

She didn’t move, hardly breathed.

“When you change your mind,” he said as one finger grazed lightly over her collarbone, “when your body can no longer resist that which it craves, I will be waiting for you.”

His fingers trailed upward along the column of her neck and to her lips before he pushed himself off of the bed and walked to the tub that had been readied near the hearth. He climbed into the cool water and began washing.

The hinges on the door creaked, alerting him to her attempt to depart. “Come here,” he demanded.

“No,” she said firmly. “Until you sober up and are ready to listen to what I have to say, I’ll be in my room.”

“One of the first duties a wife must learn,” he went on, “is the washing of her husband.” He held out a small linen cloth and a silver jar of soap.

Her eyes narrowed and her lip curled. She opened her mouth to speak, but for the first time since he’d met her, thought better of it. She left the room, not bothering to give him another glance.

Derek’s stomach roiled. And his head felt foggy from all the ale he’d imbibed, so foggy it made it difficult to remember all he had said to make her so furious. But he did recall her ridiculous words of wisdom, words coming from one discarded child to another. His jaw twitched. Amanda Forrester, the most coddled daughter in all of England abandoned by her parents. Ha! The woman surely thought all men daft.

How, he wondered, did the wench keep all her lies in order?

 

 

CHAPTER 12

 

 

Outside Braddock’s high walls, morning blossomed with an abundance of new life, suggesting spring was well underway. The trees were full and green and the sparrows that waited for their eggs to hatch swept down on intruders that came too close to their nests.

Inside the great hall, Matti watched his lordship walk her way. She pretended not to notice his impatient scowl. “Good morning, my lord. I was hoping to have a word with you. Just a quick chat.”

“What is it now, Matti?”

“I was wondering if you could take Lady Amanda her tray.”

Derek raised a brow. “I have no time for such nonsense. Acquire the help of one of the maids if you must. Where is her ladyship’s chambermaid?”

“I know not, my lord. But if I am not too bold in asking, why did you bother wedding her ladyship yester eve if you cannot find time for her? And what, my lord, did you do to upset her?”

“What are you babbling on about, Matti?”

“When I took Lady Amanda some hot cider last night, she looked unusually pale and her eyes were swollen from crying.”

“Bah,” he muttered. “The woman does not cry. And as for why I wed her…’twas a bad case of too much ale and bitter wine. But it is done and I have no wish to talk of it further.”

“But there is something else.”

Derek exhaled heavily.

“That note you came across in Lady Amanda’s trunk was found by one of the scullery maids the very morning you left with your men to aid the king.”

Derek crossed his arms and drummed his fingers against his forearm.

“Lady Amanda thought the note was from you and was in high spirits for days because of it.”

“What are you saying, Matti?”

“I only thought you should know that Lady Amanda cares deeply for you. She was miserable when you were gone, and if you only gave her a chance.” Matti’s expression became perplexed. “That note bothers me, my lord, for if the missive was not from you, then who penned it and how did it come to be in the castle?”

“Of that I am not certain, but I plan to find out. Do not burden yourself with such matters.”

“I promise not to…provided you take this tray to her ladyship for me.” With that said, she plunked the tray into his arms and walked away.

Derek shook his head as he watched Matti disappear.

He would not apologize to Amanda, he thought as he made his way to his wife’s bedchamber. He would hand her the tray and make a hasty exit. Afterward, he would have a talk with Hugo about Matti, tell him that his wife’s meddling was getting out of hand.

With a scowl on his face and a tray in his hand, he entered her room.

Morgan heard the door open. Thinking it was Odelia, she sat up, stretched her arms wide and said, “Good morning.”

Derek grunted.

Her eyes opened fully then. It was him all right, the same arrogant sap who’d managed to keep her tossing and turning most of the night. She crossed her arms tightly against her chest. “What do you want?”

His cool expression changed to one of mock pain. “Surely you will not deny me the privilege of serving my wife a meal in bed?”

She eyed him suspiciously as he brought forward a serving tray filled with silver bowls of fresh fruit and a plate of warm apple tarts. There was a silver goblet of apple cider and a red rose.

“If you think this will make up for yesterday…”

“I only wish to make my wife more agreeable. Is that so terrible?” He set the tray beside her on the bed and popped a chunk of fresh green apple into his mouth.

“Ha, you think I’ll fall for that?” Morgan admonished. “I know what you want. You made it all very clear last night. I’m sure there are many women who would be more than willing to help you out. Maybe you could order a porcupine or concubine…or whatever you call those women who assist men like you in bearing them strong healthy sons.”

“I am sure you are right,” he agreed. He raised one foot so that it rested on the wooden frame of the bed. “But I am afraid it would not do. Only you do I wish to be the mother of my children.”

She opened her mouth to protest further, but he inserted a fresh strawberry into her mouth. She had no choice but to chew. “That was a dirty trick,” she said after swallowing.

“The strawberry?”

“All of it,” she said, talking with her hands. “Forcing me to marry you, coercing me into your bed…and the strawberry,” she added.

“I did not mean to raise your ire so.” His brows slanted as he added, “And I do not recall having to coerce you into my bed.”

She blushed.

The hard features of his face softened. Then he seemed to struggle with whatever it was that was on his mind. “I may have said some things last night that perhaps I did not mean to say.”

Standing straight, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Are you apologizing?”

“Nay,” he said matter-of-factly. “I do not find it necessary to apologize.” His brow creased. “But you must cease this talk of being from another world and of being someone else altogether.”

She opened her mouth to protest but he put up a hand to stop her. “And another thing. We will have daughters instead of sons. ‘Twill please you to have daughters?”

Morgan grunted. His offer to have daughters instead of sons was his way of apologizing for last night. Silly, and yet also sweet because he looked so serious. And she had already decided she wouldn’t bring up her being from another time again. Unless she found Amanda or the Earl of Kensington, it was useless trying to convince anyone of her situation.

As she peered up at him, she noticed something different about him this morning. Not just in his mood, but in his eyes. It was as if a layer of anger and bitterness had been peeled away.

“What?” he asked, looking at her with wide, somewhat innocent eyes.

“You can’t do this,” she said softly. “You can’t say such cruel things to me one day, and then come to me with breakfast and a flower the next…” she took the rose and breathed in the sweet aroma, “…expecting all to be wonderful between us.”

“Hmmm,” is all he had to say about that. “Get dressed.”

She frowned.

“Please,” he added before turning toward the door. “I will wait for you in the gardens.”

“What about all the work you have piling up?”

“‘Twould seem it has waited this long without dire consequence. Besides,” he said, turning back once more, “it seems I have a new steward to keep my accounts. She is as clever as a fox.”

“You mean me?” she asked, pointing to her chest.

His gaze shot toward the ceiling as he shook his head in playful annoyance. Then he left her alone to wonder what he was up to. The man was impossible to figure out. One minute he was kind and the next he was the devil himself.

 

~~~~

 

“Lord Vanguard has been watching you,” Ciara whispered to the new maid, Helena.

Helena put a hand to her chest. “I thought his lordship was newly married.”

Ciara scoffed at that. “The ceremony was performed only to stop her ladyship from running away again. His lordship would not bother with Lady Amanda were it not for the king’s alliance.”

“If Lord Vanguard resembles the courtly image of the troubadours, then why does Lady Amanda run from him at all?”

“Because she is foolish and has many lovers. She has no sense and will do anything to cause Lord Vanguard hardship.” Ciara frowned, disliking the trickery she had become involved in. Truthfully, she had unexpectedly grown fond of Lady Amanda. But she had no choice but to do as she was told. Leonie had threatened her family. Ciara would do anything before she’d allow harm to come to her younger siblings. She was all they had left. She had already been stealing livestock to keep food in their stomachs. She was in too deep to turn back now.

“See how gentle his lordship is?” Ciara asked the new maid. “How many lords do you know of who play with children that are not even of their own blood?”

As Helena watched Lord Vanguard, Ciara noticed Helena’s petite frame. The girl had darkened skin from so many hours spent in the fields. Her clothes were fairly worn. Verily she wondered why Leonie thought this woman could catch his lordship’s eye at all. Lady Amanda was the only woman who had been capable of such a thing. And no matter what Leonie told her, Ciara felt certain that Lord Vanguard had already fallen in love with his wife. Everybody at Braddock thought so.

Ciara observed the new maid with curiosity. Her hair could use a bit of attention, she thought, but the woman did have a fair enough smile, making her eyes sparkle. Although ‘twas difficult to tell since she wore a ragged tunic, Helena also had a shapely form which surely made men look twice. And how could any woman not take notice of such a handsome lord? A fine looking man such as Lord Vanguard with his thick black hair the shade of midnight and the charming indentation upon his chin would catch any woman’s eye.

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