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Authors: Jude Deveraux

BOOK: The Taming
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She hated him at first sight.

“This is my stepdaughter, Lady Liana,” Helen said. “How is your father?”

Liana stood there stiffly, listening to the two of them exchange pleasantries and wanting desperately to get away. She had to go somewhere and think, for she had the decision of her life to make. Should she marry a man who smirked at her, who made her wash his clothes?

“I'm sure Liana would love to go with you. Wouldn't you, Liana?” Helen asked.

“What?”

“Sir Robert has agreed to accompany you on your ride. He will protect you from any harm as well as your own father would, won't you, Sir Robert?”

Liana hated the way Helen smiled at the man. Was she actually sleeping with men besides her husband? “And who will protect me from him?” Liana said sweetly, looking at Helen. “But then I wear no jewels, so perhaps I'll be safe.”

Helen gave Liana a quelling look. “My stepdaughter is indeed amusing.” She glared at Liana. “But not
too
amusing, I hope.” She pushed Liana forward. “Go with him,” she hissed.

Hesitantly, Liana walked through to the outer courtyard, where her horse was stabled.

“I had hoped to win your hand because of your father's lands,” Sir Robert said in a pleasant voice, “but now that I have seen you, you are a prize in yourself.”

“Oh?” She stopped and turned to face him. “Are my eyes like emeralds or sapphires?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “I would say sapphires.”

“My skin is like ivory or the finest satin?”

He gave her a little smile. “I would say the petals of the whitest rose.”

Her eyes hardened. “And my hair?”

His smile widened. “Your hair is hidden.”

She jerked off her headdress. “Gold?” she asked angrily.

“Sunlight on gold.”

She turned away from him angrily and missed seeing Sir Robert's repressed laughter.

“Would you allow me to escort you on a ride?” he asked politely. “I swear on my mother's soul that I will not compliment one part of your lovely form. I will call you a hag if you so wish.”

She didn't look back at him as she went toward her horse, which the stableboy was already saddling. She didn't find anything humorous in what he was saying. Of course he'd tell her she was a hag. He'd say anything she wanted him to.

She ignored him as she rode through the outer gate, across the drawbridge, and toward the nearby forest. She didn't think about where she was going, but she headed for the pond. Behind her, she knew Sir Robert was having a difficult time keeping up with her, but she didn't slow down for him.

When she halted near the edge of the pond, she sat still on her horse for a moment, remembering yesterday, when she'd seen Rogan lying there. She smiled in memory of the look on his face when she'd slammed the muddy clothes into his chest.

“My lady is as good a rider as she is beautiful,” Sir Robert said as he reined his horse near hers. When Liana started to dismount, he protested that he must help her.

She spent two hours with him at the pond and found him to be an utterly perfect man. He was kind, considerate, pleasant, and learned, and he treated her as if she were a fragile flower that might break at any second. He talked to her about love songs and fashions and assumed she'd be wildly interested in what was going on at King Henry's court. Three times Liana tried to direct the talk to land management and the price of wool, but Sir Robert would hear none of it.

All the time she was with him she kept thinking about the time she'd spent with Lord Rogan. He was a dreadful man, of course. He was dirty, demanding, and arrogant. He'd ordered her about as if she were his slave. Of course she had been dressed as a peasant and he had known he was an earl—or if what Helen had said was true, then perhaps he was actually a duke. But there was something about him, something strong and magnetic that made her able to think of little else except him.

“Perhaps I can teach you the new dance. Lady Liana?”

“Yes, oh certainly.” They were walking side by side down a wide wagon path through the forest. Twice he'd offered to take her arm, but she'd refused him. “How does a man want a wife to act?” she asked.

She wasn't aware of how Sir Robert's chest swelled with pride as her words raised his hopes. “Wives were meant to give a man comfort and support, to make a home for him, to bear his children. Wives are to give a man love.”

She raised one eyebrow at him. “And as much land as her father can afford?”

Sir Robert chuckled. “That helps, of course.”

Liana was frowning as she remembered Rogan's words: “I'll marry no shrews. I'll take her only if she's biddable and soft-spoken.”

“I guess all men like soft, obedient women,” she said.

Sir Robert looked at her with lust in his eyes, lust for her beautiful person as well as for the wealth that came with her. For his part she could be a vixen, in fact he rather liked her spitefulness, but he would never tell a woman that. It was better to tell them to be obedient and hope for the best.

They walked in silence, but Liana's head was reeling. Why would she even consider marriage to someone like Lord Rogan? There was nothing to recommend him. He had treated her with every discourtesy, but then he'd thought she was a peasant. He'd probably have kissed her hand and murmured pleasant phrases about the perfume of her skin if he'd known who she was. And would lice crawl up her arm? she wondered.

She looked at Sir Robert and gave him a weak smile. He was clean and pleasant and boring—oh so very, very boring. “Would you kiss me?” she asked on impulse.

Sir Robert didn't have to be asked twice. Gently, he took her in his arms and pressed his lips against hers.

Liana could have fallen asleep. She stepped back and looked at Sir Robert in surprise. So
that
was why she considered marrying Lord Rogan. She desired him. When he kissed her, her toes curled. When he stood before her with almost no clothing on, her own body grew hot. Right now Sir Robert could remove every stitch of his clothing and she knew she'd feel nothing.

“Liana,” he whispered, and took a step toward her.

Liana turned away so quickly, his hair ruffled in the breeze she caused. “I have to return. I have to tell my father I agree to the marriage.”

Sir Robert was so stunned he stood still for a moment, unable to move. Then he ran after Liana, grabbed her into his arms, and began kissing her neck and throat. “Oh my darling, you have made me the happiest man on earth. You don't know what this means to me. We've been plagued with fires for the last year. I had nearly lost hope of being able to rebuild.”

She pulled away from him. “I thought it was my golden hair and my sapphire eyes you desired.”

“That, too, of course.” He took both her hands in his and began kissing them enthusiastically.

She snatched her hands away and hurried toward her horse. “You'll have to find someone else to rebuild for you. I've decided to marry the oldest Peregrine.”

Sir Robert let out a yelp of genuine horror as he ran after her and caught her arm. “You cannot possibly consider any of them. They are—”

She put her hand up to stop him. “It is not for you to decide. Now, I'm going to return to my house and you may remain here or go with me. When you do return, I suggest you take your men and leave the Neville lands and go in search of another heiress to repair your damaged estates. And next time, perhaps you'll take better care of your properties and prevent the fires before they start.” She went to her horse and mounted.

Sir Robert looked after her for a moment, his disappointment leaving him. Perhaps he was better off without this termagant. Marriage to a woman like her could be hell. Perhaps he'd rather lose a bit of land than saddle himself with this woman for the rest of his life.

Like hell he would, he thought. Damn those Peregrines! Women seemed to like them in spite of their dirt and their lifelong battle for lands and titles that weren't theirs. If Liana marries one of those Peregrines, within three years she'll be old and worn out from being used harder than a plow horse, he thought with some satisfaction.

He mounted his horse and followed her. It would be better to take his men and leave right away. He couldn't bear to see the betrothal ceremony of the lovely Lady Liana and one of those Peregrines. He shrugged his shoulders. It was no longer any concern of his.

 

Liana stood before her father and stepmother in the solar and made the announcement that she was going to marry Lord Rogan.

“Wise choice, girl,” Gilbert said. “Best falconer in all of England.”

Helen's face was slowly turning purple. “Do not do this,” she said, gasping. “You are trying to spite me.”

“I have done what you wanted and chosen a husband,” Liana said coolly. “I would think you'd be pleased with me.”

Helen tried to calm herself, then she sank down heavily in her chair and threw her hands up in surrender. “You win. You may stay here. You may run the estates and the servants. You may have it all, for all I care. When I go to meet my God, I will not have it on my head that I forced my husband's daughter to this living death. You win, Liana. Does this give you pleasure? Go now. Go from my sight. At least leave me this one room, where neither you nor your dead mother still rule.”

Liana was puzzled by her stepmother's speech and she thought about it as she turned to leave the room. She was nearly to the door when she realized what Helen was saying. She turned back quickly.

“No,” she said with some urgency in her voice, “I
want
to marry this man. You see, I met him before. Yesterday. We were alone for a while and…” She looked down at her hands, her face red.

“Oh dear God, he has raped her,” Helen said. “Gilbert, you must hang him.”

“No!” Gilbert and Liana said in unison.

“The hawks—” Gilbert began.

“He didn't—” Liana began.

Helen put up her hands for silence, then clutched her belly. Her child would no doubt be born with cloven feet after the hell her stepdaughter had put her through during her pregnancy. “Liana, what has the beast done to you?”

Made me wash his clothes, she thought. Kissed me. “Nothing,” she said. “He has not touched me.” She meant to say penance at mass for that lie. “Yesterday while I was riding, I met him and I…” She what? Liked him? Loved him? Hated him? Probably all of them. Whatever she felt for him, it was strong. “And I want to accept his offer of marriage,” she finished.

“Good choice,” Gilbert said. “The boy is a man if ever I saw one.”

“You're a fool, Liana,” Helen whispered, her face pale. “Rarely does a girl have such a doting father that he will let her choose her own husband, and now I understand why. I would never have guessed you to be so stupid.” She sighed. “All right. It's on your head now. When he beats you—if you're still alive—you may return here and have your wounds dressed. Go now. I can't bear the sight of you.”

Liana didn't move from where she was. “I do not want to meet him before the ceremony,” she said.

“At last, some wisdom,” Helen said sarcastically. “Stay away from him as long as you can.”

Gilbert was eating grapes. “He hasn't asked to see you. I guess yesterday was enough, eh?” He grinned and winked at his daughter. He didn't know when a woman had pleased him so much. The Peregrine boys might be a little rough around the edges, but that was because they were
men,
not popinjays ruled by women.

“I guess so,” Liana said. She was afraid that if he saw her and realized she was the woman who'd tossed the clothes at him, he'd refuse to marry her. He didn't like shrews, and if Rogan wanted a soft-spoken wife, then she was going to
be
a soft-spoken wife.

“Well, it's easy enough to arrange,” Gilbert said. “I'll say you have the pox and he can exchange rings with a proxy. We'll set the wedding for…” He looked at Helen, but she was stony and silent. “Three months. Is that all right with you, daughter?”

Liana looked at Helen, and instead of hating her stepmother, she remembered the way Helen was ready to allow Liana to remain as a spinster in the Neville household. Perhaps Helen didn't hate her after all. “I will need gowns,” Liana said softly. “And I will need household goods. Do you think you could help me choose what I need?”

Helen looked bleak. “I cannot make you change your mind?”

“No,” Liana said. “You cannot.”

“Then I will help you,” Helen said. “If you died, I would help lay out your body for burial, so I will ready you for this.”

“Thank you,” Liana said, smiling, and left the room feeling wonderfully light and happy. She had a great deal to do in the next three months.

 

The Peregrine banner of a rampant white falcon on a red background with three horses' skulls in a diagonal band across the falcon's belly flew over the campsite. Some of the men slept in tents or under the baggage wagons, but Rogan and Severn lay on blankets on the ground, their bodies surrounded by weapons.

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