The Dark Lady (21 page)

He shook his head as he watched the two women at his head table. Rebeka turned back to Vanessa and scowled furiously, but was completely ignored. He chuckled, turning back to his lifelong friend. “Oh, nay, Grant. Rebeka will leave. Lady Vanessa made that perfectly clear to her. Even assigned some of my men to help her along the way. Get with Devon. He is in charge of seeing to her comfort.” Peter waved away the shocked expression on Grant’s face and made his way toward what he hoped would not be a complete disaster.

“
My lady,” He bowed politely to his wife and ignored his leman altogether. He would eat with his wife. It did not matter which side of him she sat on. He would not make a big stir, but he would make sure all knew who his choice was. It was not a wonderful plan. Hell, it was not even a good one, but it was one that would have to suffice, and one that would dissuade all doubts and rumors without disrupting the entire celebration.

Peter glanced around the head table. It was filled with his higher ranked men-at-arms. They fidgeted uncomfortably as their gaze darted between Peter and the two women.

Peter nodded to the table in general and turned to Vanessa. Every man at the table seemed to relax. They turned without question to share with the person on their left instead of their right, as was custom.

“
Looks like I get to share with you, my dear.” Richard said quietly to Rebeka and slid his trencher of stew toward her.

“
I will not share with you. You are only up here, because Peter knows your men will not listen to him yet. When they do, you will lose all your power,” Rebeka snarled and pushed his trencher away from her.

It slammed into Richard’s goblet spilling it across the table. Peter spun his head around to her. He opened his mouth to tell her to leave, but Richard spoke first. His soft voice sounded deadly in the silent room.

“
No matter what his reasoning, I am here because it was requested that I be here. Unlike you, who have no business being here at all.” Richard sat his goblet back up and pulled his food close in front of him. He stabbed a slice of beef with his dagger and started ignoring her. Peter smiled and relaxed when the other men followed suit.

It was not much of a celebration at the beginning. All the guests were silent as they glanced at Rebeka. Anger flourished within Peter as he glared at his mistress. She sat stiffly, without eating or drinking.

The guests partook of wine and ale and quickly seemed to forget the extra woman at the head table. The laughter and talk spread throughout the large dining hall. Peter smiled sweetly and turned his full attention to Vanessa. He placed his hand on her trembling arm. She looked up at him in surprise.

He laughed gently and caressed her arm. He did not dislike her and he wanted no misunderstandings. He would accept nothing less than obedience, but he did like her. He opened his mouth, but was unsure of what to say to reassure her.

Several drunken people stood at once, interrupting Peter. He closed his mouth and grinned. He turned to them as they began to give their congratulations to the new couple.

It did not take long, with the wine flowing abundantly, for the good wishes to turn to lewd advice. Within moments the celebration had gotten loud and the ruckus was starting to disrupt the tables.

Rebeka stood and slipped away from the table. She quietly joined the ranks of the drunken soldiers. Most of the men at the head table were well into their cups and did not seem to take notice when she left.

Peter noticed, for he had drunk little. He wanted to show Vanessa pleasure, and he had enough trouble controlling himself when it came to her without being encumbered by drink.

Van took notice as Rebeka slinked off into the crowd. Van had drunk nothing. She had never drunk more than a few mouthfuls of anything other than watered down ale. She had never been in a position where she could relax her guard. When she was the Dark Knight, she could not risk compromising herself and she had the same fears now. She had no idea how alcohol would affect her, but knowing it made most men loose of lips, she had never pushed fate.

“
Relax, my dear.” Peter’s voice pulled her thoughts away from the Dark Knight. She turned to him with a forced smile. “All will be well,” he continued. “I will show you. This union has not started off at the best pace, but we can make something work out of it.” He slid his hand down her arm and took her hand. Shocked at the jolt of heat that raced through her fingers and arm she stared down at it.

“
Get on with the bedding. We have had our fill of food and drink, get on with the entertainment,” the drunken man shouted above the noisy room.

Van jerked her head up as cheers erupted through the crowd. Rank comments and lewd suggestions followed.

She smiled. This was part of why she missed the life of a knight. It was rare that a woman of any ranking got to see this side of men. She glanced across the room at the maids and whores who lounged across the laps of the men. She smiled at her men, but it concerned her to see them separated from Peter’s men.

Van looked toward Peter. He sat staring intently at her.

He was surprised, and a little irritated, by his bride. She did not seem in the least ruffled by the graphic language. She should blush and act the part of the innocent young girl that he knew her to be.

He looked at the young boy who had loudly insisted on the bedding. Christopher Dalton had been a foot soldier in Peter’s army for less than a year. Rebeka stood next to him with a satisfied grin. Peter knew she had planted the seed in his head and left the shouting to him. Peter was shocked to see this vindictive side of her.

He pushed her from his mind and stood holding out his hands. “That is not a possibility,” he shouted over the commotion. “I am sorry for the lack of entertainment, but the marriage has already been consummated.” He held his hands higher as an uproar echoed through the hall.

“
You cannot have. She cannot excite you.” Rebeka raced toward him, stumbling over the crowding men as her voice rose to a fevered pitch. “Not the way that I do.”

She stopped breathlessly in front of them and glowered down at Vanessa, who looked up at her with a deadly grin.

Tension dug its claws into Peter’s nerves and refused to release its painful grasp.

“
There is no way you could entice him to take you. You are lying. You have no honor—”

Peter had no time to react as Vanessa lurched up from her seat and threw Rebeka off balance. She grasped Rebeka’s arms and yanked her slender frame up against her own. Vanessa spoke unsteadily through tightly clenched teeth. “You will listen to me, and you will listen real close.”

All the men were instantly on their feet, ready to come to their lady’s aid. Peter grasped Vanessa’s arm and tried to pull Rebeka from her steel grasp. She tightened her hold, refusing to let go.

Vanessa’s voice was a mere whisper. “There are a lot of things you can do to me. A lot you may call me. I will forgive you a great deal, for you are after all, just a woman, but even at that, you will never question my honor.”

The soft gravel in her voice was unlike any of the voices she had used throughout the day, yet Peter found it familiar.

Small white dents appeared in Rebeka’s arms as Vanessa dug her fingers deeply into the soft white flesh, lifting her completely from the ground. As Rebeka’s tears began to fall, Peter yanked at Vanessa’s arm.

“
Vanessa, let her go, you are making a scene. We can deal with this when we are not in front of everyone.” He pulled at her arm until Rebeka squealed in pain. “Vanessa!”

Vanessa yanked her arms away. Rebeka fell to the floor with a scream. Vanessa turned her dark gaze on Peter once again. She sighed deeply and shook her head. He saw the pain that swirled in her black eyes, and it ached within him as if her pain had caressed him.

“
This was a bad idea. I am never going to be able to do this. I cannot.” She turned and fled the room.

Peter glanced down as a small figure brushed past him. He shook his head and grasped Amy’s arm. “Nay, I will take care of this.”

“
Pray, let me go to her.”

“
Nay, I will speak to her.” Peter started to walk past her, but her small hand stayed him.

“
You do not understand.” Amy pulled weakly against his arm. She looked up at him pleadingly with tear moistened eyes.

“
Do not cry. You are right. I do not understand a lot about that woman, but I will be the one to see to her.” His gaze caught all the staring faces of the men and servants as he turned to follow Vanessa up the stairs.

Guilt pricked at him. He had wanted to avoid a scene, but things had ended up worse than he had imagined. “I should have just moved her,” he said quietly as he trudged up the stairs. “It would have been less of a scene in the long run.”

He reached his chambers only to find them empty, though he wasn’t surprised. He knew she wouldn’t run to his room. He made his way across the floor and tried the door between the rooms only to find it locked. He knocked. “Vanessa.” Nothing came from beyond the door.

Anger began to swell within him at being locked out. Pounding loudly on the heavy oak door he shouted. “Open this blasted door.”

No answer, but he could think of nowhere else she would have run. “Open it now. This is your last chance to let me in.” No answer. Pain splintered through his arm as it collided with the wood once more. He growled at the offending object and caressed his throbbing hand.

He stomped to his bed side and ripped open the top drawer of his bed stand. He had a moment of concern when the key to her door was not lying on the top of the parchments where he thought he had left it.

Cursing vividly, he dug through the drawer. Relief washed away some of the frustration when his hand closed around the small cold key. Peter rushed back, turned the key and threw the door open.

Vanessa stood defiantly in the center of the room, hands on her narrow hips. Peter could feel the anger radiating from her like the heat of a blazing fire. Its dangerous flames threatened to engulf him as he encroached upon her. “How dare you just walk into my chambers? This is my chambers, is it not? I cannot believe you would allow your whore to humiliate me like she did, and you said nothing.”

Peter shook his clouded head in an unsuccessful attempt to clear it. Guilt pricked its hooks into him once again. She was right, he had said nothing. The pain dug in deeper. From the way it looked, Vanessa probably thought he had defended Rebeka. He had not. He just had not wanted Vanessa to hurt her. “Damn it, woman, I did not want to cause a big scene, but I guess you took care of that anyway.” He closed the gap between them. “Do not ever lock your door against me and nay, these are not your chambers. They are mine. This entire castle and everything in it is mine. That includes you.” He had to gain control of her now, or he was afraid she would never be the wife he needed her to be.

Vanessa stiffened and her chin rose up a notch. Her eyes flashed with anger and pride. Peter scowled. How could one woman drive him so mad? He took a deep breath.

“
As such, you will act accordingly.” He had trouble focusing on anything except the way her dress pulled into her curves, unencumbered by even the thin chemise that decent women wore. He could see the candle light through the bottom of the dress and although he could see nothing specific, irritation began to turn to anger as he thought of the way the men looked at her throughout the night. He could not allow her to dress so in front of his men. He did not want her near the men and would allow nothing to encourage the men to take unwanted notice of her.

“
It reflects badly on me that you dress so and wear so much face powder. From now on you will wear the clothing you were meant to wear.”

“
I do not believe you would like the clothes I was meant to wear.” She grinned lopsidedly at him before she continued. “And nay, I am not yours. I belong to no one. You cannot tell me what to do. You cannot say this is how it will be and expect me not to have any say over my own life.” Her face was reddened beneath the powder, and he could hear the passionate anger in her raised voice.

Fury swarmed his thoughts and invaded him with images of his defiant mother screaming relentlessly at his father. The way she had humiliated him with his men, the way she had spent time alone with them in the barracks. He could see the devastation on his father’s face when she admitted to her affairs with his men, and the tears, that he was afraid would never end, the night that she had left with one of them.

All he could see through his rage was his mother standing before him. “You damned bitch, you will not speak to me in such a way.” He raised his hand to hit her and Vanessa’s face swirled back into his view.

He gasped, dropped his hand and took a step back. All he wanted was his calm life back, wanted things the way they were before she had invaded his peaceful existence.

Vanessa stared at him, but remained silent. He wanted more than anything to know what she was thinking, if she hated him. He could not bring himself to ask the questions he did not know if he could face the answers to. Peter looked around the room at the dingy tapestries on the walls and the layers of dust that covered everything. He shivered. The large room had been vacant for a long time, since his mother had left them. It felt alive with the ghosts of the past. “I will have them send up a bath for you.”

“
Nay.” Vanessa’s voice was icy and calm.