Rexanne Becnel (23 page)

The minutes stretched interminably. The room grew dim but Lilliane could not muster enough interest to light a torch or even a candle. Too many worrisome thoughts circled in her head.

What would her punishment be? Would Corbett seek to hurt William or any others? But overriding that still was the question of her father’s death. Was Corbett capable of such a foul deed? At times she was certain of it. But at other times …

She shook her head hard. Who else could it be? If he was guilty, then it was her duty to avenge the crime. But how could she know for sure when he so adamantly denied it?

She was so caught up in her troubled thoughts that she did not hear the approaching footsteps. When the door to her chamber opened, however, she whirled quickly from her place before the fire.

In the doorway Corbett stood, a great, towering shadow. Her heart lurched in her chest as she stared at her husband. He had bathed and changed into fresh clothes; his hair was still damp and slicked back from his face. The meager glow from the fire in the hearth cast dancing golden lights over his harsh profile.

Lilliane’s breath quickened as he stood there unmoving, only watching her with his dark, inscrutable stare. Uncomfortable with his unwavering silence, she clasped her fingers tightly together and lifted her chin bravely. His lips curled sardonically at her show of bravado. With a slow, sure move he stepped further into the room and closed the door securely behind him.

“Come attend me, wife,” he ordered as he tossed his leather satchel onto the trunk. “Show me your wifely concern. I confess I’ve found it sorely lacking thus far.”

She bristled at the sarcasm that edged his voice. “I’ve no wifely concerns for you at all.”

Lilliane knew she risked much with her defiance, but she was unable to do anything else. She hated him. She would always hate him. She would never cease trying to be rid of him:

Although his jaw tightened at her words and his scarred brow lowered in a scowl, Corbett did not respond at once. Instead he crossed to a chair and sat down. “I will tell you this one time, Lilliane. Only once. You may believe it or not. ’Tis your own choice.” He paused and pulled off his boots. Then he looked at her sharply. “I did not have your father killed.”

He stared at her hard as if to gauge her reaction.

Then he drew his tunic over his head. “I have questioned Dunn and all the rest of my men. I am convinced there was no foul play in Lord Barton’s death. Furthermore, your father’s own man—the old one—tells me his master suffered greatly with a rot in his gut. He knew his days on this earth were numbered.” One corner of his mouth turned up ironically. “He says it was for that reason that he consented so quickly to our marriage.”

Lilliane stared at him in stunned silence as he tugged his shirt off over his head.

“I don’t believe you,” she whispered. She was taken aback by his last words, and her thoughts could not rally to contradict his preposterous statement. Her father had been perfectly well. In fact, he’d been better than ever since the wedding ceremony.

“Thomas wouldn’t lie—” She faltered when he stood up. “You must have forced him to say such a thing.” She backed away from his steady approach, still trying to make some sense of it all.

“You may question him yourself on the morrow, Lily. Right now he is drowning his own sorrow in ale.”

Lilliane shook her head in stubborn refusal. “It is not as you say! You had every reason to kill my father.”

“I
had no reason at all.”

“You hated him,” she accused in a voice shrill and unnatural. She felt the sting of tears but could not fight them off. “You wanted revenge for your father’s death and now you have it. You planned this from the very beginning!”

Corbett’s jaw tensed at this, and even through her tear-blurred eyes she saw his scarred brow lower in a frown.

“Damn it, woman! Even had I plotted his death, poisoning is not my way, I am a knight of no little pride. I meet a man squarely in battle.”

She clenched her eyes shut and turned away from him. She did not want to hear his words. She did not want to credit him with any honor whatsoever, yet she could not deny that what he said bore some remnants of truth. He would not resort to poison. He would no doubt easily thrust his wicked blade cleanly through a man’s chest, but he would stare his victim in the face as he did so.

That admission let loose a flood of emotions—all her repressed sorrow for her father and a terribly confusing relief that perhaps Corbett was not a murderer after all. But then why had her father died? Was it merely as Thomas had said, an ailment he’d kept concealed from them all? A sob caught in her throat and she buried her face in her hands.

At once she felt Corbett’s grasp on her shoulders and his strong arms encircling her. “Hush now,” he murmured as he held her awkwardly. “Don’t cry, Lily. Don’t cry.”

But that only made her cry harder. Terrible wracking sobs tore through her as he held her close. It had been so hard, these days since she’d buried her father. She’d been strong and made the decisions that needed to be made. But she could be strong no longer.

Lilliane could not say precisely how Corbett maneuvered them to a chair and then sat down with her in his lap. She might have been a pet or a child in his arms as he soothed and comforted her. His hands were gentle and his bare skin cool against her overheated cheeks. But as her storm of tears began slowly to subside, she knew his tender touch was nonetheless that of a man upon a woman.

“’Tis a hard thing indeed to lose a parent.” He spoke quietly.

“I’ve lost them both now. They’re both gone.”

“As are my parents.” He paused and his fingers slid up her back to the soft nape of her neck. “You must learn to rely on me. I’m your husband. I’ll see to your needs.”

The low rumble of his voice was soothing to Lilliane’s overwrought nerves, and for a weak moment she let her aching head rest against his shoulder. She was confused and upset, torn in two conflicting directions. Logic deemed that he was the cause of all her woes. And yet …

She struggled against the lulling comfort of his gentle embrace and with the back of her hand wiped her tears away. “I must speak to Thomas. He and—”

“Tomorrow.”

Lilliane peered warily at Corbett, suddenly discomfited by their intimate position. “I must see him tonight,” she insisted. “If it is true—”

“It is true. Tomorrow will be soon enough to seek him out. He was well into his cups when I left him anyway.”

Lilliane sighed sorrowfully. “Poor Thomas. He loved Father well.” She turned her pale face toward the fire and stared sadly into the low, flickering flames. For days she had been caught up in the frenzy of preparing the castle against Corbett. It had been more difficult than anything she’d ever done before. But now she could see it had just been a way to avoid the aching emptiness her father’s absence created. She had wasted two years away from him, and that made his loss even harder to bear.

“Thomas will be lost without him.” She smiled wanly. “My father was a good man.”

“I’ve no doubt he was a good father.”

Lilliane sensed at once the meaning of Corbett’s words. She turned her wide, dark-lashed eyes on him. “He was a good man,” she insisted. “He had nothing to do with your father’s death.”

Corbett’s jaw tensed at that and his fingers stilled their gentle circling upon her neck. She continued before he could speak. “He would not strike a man unaware, giving him no chance for defense. He lived by a code of honor, much as you say you do,” she added.

For long seconds he did not reply as he considered her words. He only stared at her with eyes dark and smoky. Yet that steady, searching stare unsettled her more than any words might. She did not know if he believed her or not. She wasn’t even sure whether she completely believed him. Still, her heart began to race in her chest as his eyes held hers captive.

Despite all the doubts, all the hatred between their families and the struggles between them, she could not quell the warmth his nearness stirred within her. Swift and urgent, it quivered up her spine with sudden awareness of each place their bodies touched.

He was harsh and ruthless, she told herself sternly. The king’s Bird of Prey.

But it was useless. Like a live thing some spark crackled between them, and she knew he was as aware of it as she.

Then his hand moved to her head and he pulled the wooden hairpins from her carefully arranged hair. “Your welcome today left much to be desired.”

“I was … I was not eager to have you return,” she admitted in a small voice.

“Nonetheless, I am here.” He removed her fillet and wimple, and she felt her hair tumble free. “We have unfinished business to settle between us,” he murmured against her hair, and she felt the damp heat of his breath against her temple.

Disturbed, Lilliane squirmed unconsciously upon his lap. But the press of his quick arousal against her bottom only flustered her further. As his hands found the laces at her waist, she mustered her wits as best she could.

“You—you have not said what repercussions there will be for what I have done today.”

He paused in his sensual assault and looked at her with a faint, cynical curve to his lips. “I have taken the necessary steps to make sure the responsible parties are punished.”

Lilliane’s heart began to pound nervously. “But it was I. I’m the responsible one. William had nothing to do—”

“Don’t speak to me of William.” Corbett’s eyes had turned hard. “He is confined, as is your captain of the guards. As for the others, all you need to know is that there will be no chance for insurrection again.”

“No. Please don’t harm them. They were only following my orders,” she argued.

“They know now not to make that mistake again.”

“But that’s not fair to them, for they’ve not done anything wrong. Nor is it fair to make me appear no more than a servant in my own home.”

“You’re hardly a servant, Lily.” To emphasize his point he slid his hand slowly along her thigh, but she slapped it away.

“What have you done to my guards?” she demanded angrily.

Corbett’s eyes narrowed. “First of all, they’re not your guards any longer. Any man not loyal to me—
me
—may shed his guard duties and go back to husbanding sheep or tilling the soil.”

Lilliane was infuriated by his high-handedness. “You have no right!”

“I have every right!”

She was silenced by his angry words. For a long moment their gazes remained locked in silent conflict. Then Corbett took a slow breath and seemed to calm.

“Things will be different at Orrick now,” he began in a reasonable tone. “Accept it and you will find life to be far easier.”

He didn’t have to say “Fight me and you will lose.” She already knew how he felt on that score. Still, Lilliane could hardly resign herself to seeing everything at Orrick turned upside-down on his whim.

In frustration she sought to rise, but he easily stopped her.

“We have unfinished business between us,” he reminded her.

“To what business do you refer?” she asked, wondering angrily if he had some further punishment in store for his willful wife.

“You bade me wait, when last we lay together. Tonight I will do just that, wait until you reach your complete pleasure.”

Lilliane’s amber eyes widened at that; she was caught completely off guard by his astonishing words. On too many painful occasions she had recalled precisely those frustrated words of hers. She had not known why she’d revealed her feelings in such a wanton manner. Indeed, she’d hoped he had forgotten her shameless cry. But it was terribly clear he had not. As she stared at him, mortified by the memory, his stern expression eased and she caught the trace of a smile upon his lips.

“Come now. Why such a shocked mien? Surely you have not forgotten how much you enjoyed the pleasures of our marriage bed?”

“All I remember is how I was forced into this marriage against my will!” she replied angrily, unwilling to admit the truth of his words.

“I don’t deny that is how it was.” She felt his warm breath against her hair. “But why must you deny that you now find as much satisfaction in our joining as do I?”

It seemed at once that he kindled a flame within her. In place of her anger a new, even more volatile emotion now seethed. Like fire she burned everywhere he touched her: his fingers within the loosened laces at her side; his palm resting above her knee; and most markedly his masculinity beneath her bottom.

Something within Lilliane tightened and twisted with her new knowledge of what was to come. But there was a part of her that still fought such all-consuming submission to him. Instinctively she tried to get free of his hold, but Corbett would have none of it. His hand tightened at her waist to keep her still upon his lap.

“Do not flee, Lily. And do not deny the sweet pleasure we took of one another.”

He turned her downcast face up to him then slid his finger slowly along her full lower lip. “What we shared before was only the beginning of the pleasure we shall find in one another.”

Lilliane blushed heatedly. Both his words and the sensuous slide of his fingers over her lips set her to trembling. Memories of their earlier joinings besieged her and, indeed, she felt an intense rush of desire for him.

As their gazes held she could clearly see the smoky desire in his eyes. She quickly averted her stare, afraid her own wanton desires might be just as plain to him. She was mortified by her uncontrollable emotions. Hadn’t he just flaunted his victory over her? Hadn’t he mocked her by robbing her of every authority she held at Orrick? How could she then feel this terrible, overwhelming desire for him?

She was perched on his lap, trembling with longing yet unable to face him and the plain truth of her confusing feelings. But Corbett was not so shy nor so hesitant.

“Show me what you want,” he murmured in her ear. Then his lips moved down to her neck and she felt the hot whisper of his words against her oversensitive skin. “Show me.”

She gasped in pleasure and her breath quickened as his hand slid along her thigh. With just such a light touch he ignited her, and all vestiges of reason fled her mind.