The Iron Knight (The De Russe Legacy Book 3) (11 page)

She began to cry again, slamming the rods about violently, and Sophina was quickly coming to understand something about the girl – she was badly behaved, spoilt even, and it occurred to Sophina that all of the banging and crying had been a tantrum. She was, in fact, having one now. Her gaze flicked off to her right where an older woman, wearing a tight wimple, cowered in a chamber doorway. The older woman was looking fearfully at the child on the ground. Now, those screams were beginning to make some sense.

“Susanna,” she said, loudly, so she could be heard over the screaming. “Why are you banging about so? Do you think this will make the girls come to you?”

Susanna slowed her actions as if confused by the fact that someone was pointing them out. She looked at Sophina, angry tears on her face. “But they
must
come!” she insisted. “How am I to see them if they do not?
They must come
!”

Sophina shook her head. “They will most certainly
not
come,” she said, bordering on stern. “Did you think they would not be frightened by the crying and banging you have been doing? Of course they are afraid. They will not come to you if they are afraid you might try to scream and bang on them, too.”

Susanna came to an abrupt halt, mulling over what the strange woman had told her. She couldn’t decide if she was even more outraged by it or embarrassed. “But…,” she sputtered, “but they must do as I say.”

“Why?”

Her eyes flew open wide. “Because I wish it!”

“
Why
should they do as you say?” Sophina repeated. Then, she shook her head. “A well-behaved young lady will invite friends without even trying. A young lady who screams and bangs about will only chase people away. They will be afraid of you. Now, I am sure if you are quiet and politely ask them to join you, they will want do to it much more than if you scream at them. Do you understand?”

Susanna was still weeping, softly, but at least she wasn’t screaming. Lower lip trembling, she wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. In truth, no one ever questioned her. She was always allowed to do as she pleased. She was a very bright girl and knew that her demands would always be met, but in this case, people were not running to do her bidding and she could not adequately handle her frustration.

The more she thought on the situation, however, the more she began to see things from only her perspective – she wanted the young women upstairs to come to her and they would not. That was all she could understand. It had always been that way in her world and her wishes had never been denied. Suddenly, she brought the metal canes in her hands down with a violent crash.

“Tell them to come to me
now
!” she screamed. “I am sick and wretched, and they must come and play with me! I demand it!”

Sophina didn’t react other than to watch the child throw another tantrum. For as kind and wonderful as Lucien had been, she found it rather shocking that the man’s daughter was so terribly behaved. She didn’t understand it, frankly. But as she watched the girl practically kick and scream because she wasn’t getting her way in all things, she thought there was something quite pathetic about her. She was clearly a very unhappy child.

“They will not come to you if you behave like this,” Sophina said steadily. “What is your sickness, child? What is the matter with you?”

Susanna wasn’t much interested in talking about herself. “I cannot walk very well, you fool,” she snarled. “Can you not see my canes? Are you blind?”

Now she was hurling insults, which Sophina didn’t take kindly to in the least. She adored children and was very good with them, and no matter who this child’s father was, she wasn’t going to let the little chick insult her. Her manner cooled as she backed away, moving for the stairs.

“I can see quite clearly,” she said. “In fact, I see a screaming, ill-tempered child who does not deserve anyone’s friendship or attention. The fact that you cannot walk well does not give you the right to be so terribly rude. I will tell the young ladies upstairs not to come down here no matter how much you scream, so scream until your head explodes. No one will listen to you. Until you can politely speak to those around you, I will ensure my daughter, at the very least, does not heed your call. Good day, Lady Susanna.”

With that, she turned and headed up the stairs, listening to a sudden silence from Susanna before the screaming began again in earnest. By the time she reached the top of the stairs, Emmaline, Juno, and Aricia were gathered there, eyes wide as Sophina emerged from the stairwell. The howls that were coming up after her now were loud and unearthly.

“What happened, Mama?” Emmaline demanded. “Who is making those terrible noises?”

Sophina cocked an eyebrow. “Lord Lucien’s daughter, as you suspected,” she said. “She is an unfortunate child. I would suggest we all retreat our rooms now so that we will not antagonize her. She can hear us quite clearly down the stairwell, so mayhap it is best if we retreat to our rooms for now.”

Juno and Aricia nodded quickly, fearfully, and started to hustle to their chamber. Juno came to a halt, however, once she put her hand on the door latch. “Lady Emmaline?” she whispered loudly in the hopes that the mad child down the stairs would not hear her. “Would you come with us so that we may properly dress you until your clothing can be washed?”

Emmaline looked at her mother with big, begging eyes, but Sophina was a bit confused about the request. Before she could ask what Juno had meant, Emmaline grabbed on to her mother.

“Please, Mama?” she asked passionately. “Please, may I go with them?”

Sophina had to grin at her extremely eager daughter. “I would like to give you permission, but what, exactly, will you do?”

Emmaline tugged on her mother’s arm, eager for the woman to give her consent. “I told Lady Juno that our clothing is being washed,” she said quickly. “She offered to let me borrow some of her clothing until ours is returned to us so I do not have to wear this terrible robe. Please, Mama?”

Gazing into her daughter’s eyes, Sophina couldn’t help but relent. It wasn’t often that her daughter was around young women her own age and she knew the girl was desperate for friends. She really didn’t have any. Sophina looked over at Juno and Aricia, who were looking at her with the same hopeful expression that Emmaline had. She figured her daughter couldn’t get into any trouble if she was in the chamber next door. Patting her child on the cheek, she nodded.

“Go,” she said. “Enjoy yourself. And thank Lady Juno for her generosity. It is very kind of her to share her possessions with a young lady she does not know.”

Emmaline let out a little squeal of delight and kissed her mother on the cheek before dashing off to be with her new friends. As the door to Juno’s chamber shut quietly behind the giggling girls, the howling from the floor below was still in full swing. The smile faded from Sophina’s face as she retreated into her own chamber and shut the door, shutting out the screams of the ill-behaved child.

But the fact remained that she suspected she might have to face Lucien’s daughter again, at some point, and she braced herself for that moment. She was fairly certain the girl would tell Lucien about the terrible lady who said terrible things to her. She wondered how she was going to explain her way out of that one but, truth be told, there wasn’t much she could say in her defense. The girl was horrible and Sophina didn’t regret what she’d said, but she was certain she would be disappointed when Lucien threw her and Emmaline from Spelthorne as a result.

Until that time, Sophina would have to dream of Lucien all she could, including the fact that she was still wrapped in the man’s robe. She rubbed the heavy wool, feeling it against her flesh, as she went to lie down on the bed. Once she lay back on the fluffy mattress, she inhaled the fabric draped on her arms, smelling the heady scent of wood mixed with what she imagined was man’s smell. Lucien’s smell.

More fabric touched her belly and her breasts, and she couldn’t help but rub the material against her nipples, imagining what it would feel like for Lucien to touch her nipples. It had been years since she’d been with a man, since her husband had died, so the thought of a man on her flesh, between her legs, brought heat to her loins like nothing she had ever experienced.

The scratchy wool on her woman’s center brought chills and she raised her knees, gently rubbing the fabric on her woman’s center, imagining that it was Lucien’s manly touch. It was enough to bring her the greatest of pleasure to her trembling body. With the wool rubbing against her nipples, she tossed the robe open and began to stroke herself, giving herself pleasure, eyes closed and a smile on her lips when she remembered an old nun from her childhood speaking of the sins of the flesh and discouraging young girls from even bathing.

A bath is a temptation to evil,
the old crone had said, but that had never stopped Sophina from pleasuring herself. She never saw any harm in it and, frankly, she had done it quite often. She still did. Like now; inserting a finger into her already wet sheath, she trembled with delight at the sensation as her free hand came up to caress a naked breast, visions of Lucien de Russe dancing in her head.

Thoughts of the man with the big shoulders and long, dark hair was enough to send her panting. The finger in her sheath began to work in and out, stroking the pink flesh, stimulating, and in little time, a powerful release rolled through Sophina. She knew if she kept stroking, another climax would come so she did, playing with her tender core, coaxing forth two more releases before finding some satisfaction. Breathing heavily, she lay upon the bed, her left hand wet from her slick body.

With thoughts of Lucien heavy in her mind, she wiped her hand off on the inside of his robe, in the general location of where his buttocks would be. She smiled to herself, knowing it would dry before he would ever wear it again, but knowing that even when she left, a small part of her would remain behind, secretly to touch his skin.

It was a nasty little secret, but she didn’t care.

She rather liked nasty little secrets.

CHAPTER FOUR

L
ucien had been
listening to Holderness spout his mouth off most of the afternoon, ever since he had returned to Spelthorne with Sophina and Emmaline. Entering the gates of his fortress, with Sophina so deliciously on his lap, he’d run right into the man, who had been in conversation with de Royans near the keep. God help him, he hadn’t been fast enough to avoid the man. He’d had little choice but to turn Sophina over to his majordomo and greet the man whom Henry wanted to be his future father-in-law.

But Lucien had other ideas.

Playing the perfect host, which he was very good at doing when he wanted to, he took Holderness into the great hall of Spelthorne where he and de Royans and a very big, dark-haired knight known as Gabriel of Pembury, proceeded to ply Holderness and his son with a good deal of very expensive wine. Lucien didn’t have many vices but fine wine was one of them, and he had a special sweet, dark red wine imported from Spain, made of grapes grown near the town of Toledo. He’d discovered the wine through the king and had a standing order for the stuff, which he usually hoarded greedily.

But not today – because the wine was rich and very sweet, it tended to get one drunk very quickly and the aching head the next day was something only told of in horror stories. So Lucien had his knights fetch the strong wine, whereupon he made sure Holderness’ cup was always full, topping it off constantly, while he and his men drank it at a much slower pace.

Laurent caught on fairly early that Lucien was trying to get his father drunk but he said nothing. He wasn’t exactly sure why Lucien was keeping his father’s cup full but it soon began to occur to him that he simply wanted his father out of the way, which wasn’t surprising. But he was fairly certain that Lucien didn’t know that his father had a great tolerance for alcohol, so the more he poured, the louder and more animated his father became.

Eventually, Laurent had to whisper something to Gabriel, who in turn muttered something to Colton, who was sitting next to Lucien. The next time Lucien tried to re-fill Holderness’ cup, Colton stopped him. A brief shake of the head to Lucien’s curious glance halted any further attempts to fill up the earl’s cup. But at that point, it was too late.

The plan had backfired.

Holderness became loud and opinionated, berating everyone from the king to the French. Not even the pope escaped his wrath as an ineffective man presiding over the most powerful religion in the world (or the only religion, as Holderness put it). Lucien kept a straight face as Holderness turned his rage on Lucien, scolding the man for not having been waiting at the gates when he had arrived earlier that day. The man then went on to extoll the virtues of his daughter, Juno, who was a truly accomplished and obedient girl. Lucien did everything but yawn and Holderness was incensed that Lucien didn’t show more interest in his only daughter.

Lucien could take the scolding. That didn’t bother him in the least, for the truth was that he brought it on himself by trying to get Holderness drunk. So he took the pounding without uttering a word, but that inactive stance changed when Holderness began to bring up Henry and the past ten years of active rebellions against the king’s reign. At that point, Holderness began his opinion of several of the past battles and past rebels – Henry Percy, for one. Percy, also known as Hotspur, was a huge topic of debate and the more Holderness ranted, leaning towards support of Percy but stopping just short of actually advocating the man, the more Lucien’s mood sank and the more his passive stance threatened to come to an end.