The Taming (7 page)

After mass, the wedding group rode back to the castle while the peasants threw grains at them and shouted, “Plenty! Plenty!” For three days and nights every man, woman, and child would have all the food and drink they could hold.

Once over the drawbridge and into the inner courtyard, Liana sat on her horse and waited for her husband to lift her down. Instead, she watched as Rogan and his brother Severn dismounted and went to the wagons loaded and waiting along the stone wall.

“He cares more for your goods than for you,” Helen said as a groom helped Liana from her horse.

“You have had your say,” Liana snapped. “You do not know all there is. Perhaps he has reasons for his actions.”

“Yes, such as not being human,” Helen said. “There's no use reminding you of what you've done. It's too late now. Shall we go in and eat? It is my experience that men always come home when they're hungry.”

But Helen was wrong, because neither Rogan nor his men came in to the feast Liana had spent weeks organizing. Instead, they stayed outside, going through the wagons that were packed with her dowry. She sat alone at her father's right side, the groom's place next to her empty. All around she could feel the tittering of the guests as they looked at her with sympathetic eyes. She kept her chin up and refused to let them see she was hurt. She told herself it was good that her husband was interested in his property. A man who was so concerned about his estates wasn't likely to gamble them away.

After a couple of hours, when most people had finished eating, Rogan and his men came into the Hall. Liana smiled, for now, surely, he'd come to her and apologize and explain what had kept him. Instead, he stopped beside Gilbert's chair, reached between Gilbert and Helen, and picked up a two-pound piece of roasted beef and began to gnaw on it.

“Three wagons are full of feather mattresses and dress goods. I want them filled with gold,” Rogan said, his mouth full.

Gilbert had had nothing to do with the packing of the wagons and so could not answer Rogan's complaint. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Helen had no such problem. “The mattresses are for my daughter's comfort. I don't imagine that place of yours has even the barest comforts.”

Rogan turned cold, hard eyes on her and Helen almost backed down. “When I want a woman's opinion, I will ask for it.” He looked back at Gilbert. “I am having an accounting made now. You will regret it if you have cheated me.” He stepped away from the table, the meat eaten, and wiped his greasy hands on the beautiful velvet tunic Liana had had made for him. “You can keep your feathers.”

Helen was on her feet instantly as she confronted Rogan. He was much taller than she and overpoweringly large, but she held herself rigid before him. Her anger gave her courage. “Your own wife, the wife you have chosen to ignore, supervised the loading of those wagons and she has not cheated you. As for the household goods, either they go with her or she remains here in her father's house. Choose now, Peregrine, or I'll have the marriage annulled. No daughter of mine goes from my house naked.”

The entire room was silent. Only a dog snuffling in a corner could be heard and it, too, soon quietened. Guests, acrobats, singers, musicians, jesters all paused in what they were doing and looked at the tall, handsome man and the elegant woman confronting each other.

For a moment Rogan did not seem to know what to say. “The marriage has been performed.”

“And not consummated,” Helen flashed back at him. “It will be easy to have it annulled.”

The anger in Rogan's eyes increased. “You do not threaten me, woman. The girl's goods are mine and I will take what I want.” He took a step backward and grabbed Liana's arm, pulling her out of her chair. “If the girl's virginity is a problem, I'll take it now.”

This statement made the half-drunk crowd laugh, and their laughter increased as Rogan pulled Liana up the stairs and out of sight.

“My room…” Liana said nervously, not exactly sure of what was going on. She was aware only that at last she was going to be alone with this magnificent man.

Rogan flung open a door to a guest room that was being used by the Earl of Arundel and his wife. The countess's maid was folding clothes. “Out,” Rogan commanded the girl, and she scurried to obey him.

“But my room is—” Liana began. This was not the way things were supposed to happen. She was to be undressed by her maids and to be put nude between pure clean sheets and he was to come to her and kiss her and caress her.

“This room is good enough,” he said, and pushed her back onto the bed, then grabbed her skirt hem and flung it over her head.

Liana fought her way out from under several heavy layers of cloth, then gasped as Rogan's considerable weight covered her. The next moment she cried out in pain as he entered her. She was unprepared for such pain and she pushed away from him, but he didn't seem to notice as he began to make quick, long strokes. Liana gritted her teeth to keep from crying and she clenched her fists against the pain.

Within minutes he was finished and he collapsed on her, limp and relaxed. It took Liana a moment to recover from the onslaught of pain, but when she opened her eyes she could see Rogan's dark hair, could feel the softness of it against her cheek. His face was turned away from her, but his thick, clean hair covered her cheek and forehead. How heavy yet how light he felt. His broad shoulders covered her small body, yet his hips didn't seem as wide as hers.

She lifted her hand and touched his hair, put her fingers into it, then her nose, and inhaled the fragrance of him.

Slowly, he turned to face her, his lids heavy with fatigue. “I slept for a moment,” he said softly.

She smiled at his closed eyes and stroked the hair at his temple. His lashes were thick, his nose finely cut, his skin dark and warm and as finely pored as a baby's. His cheeks were stained dark with unshaven whiskers, but they didn't take away from the relaxed softness of his mouth.

Her finger moved from his temple and down his cheek to his lips. When she touched his lower lip, his eyes sprang open and the greenness of them was startling. Now he will kiss me, she thought, and for a moment she held her breath as he looked at her.

“A blonde,” he murmured.

Liana smiled at him since her hair color seemed to please him. She put up her hand to pull off her headdress and all three feet of her hair cascaded out. “I wanted to save it for you,” she whispered. “I hoped you would like it.”

He picked up a strand of the fine, golden hair and curled it about his fingers. “It's—”

He halted in mid-sentence and all softness left his face. Immediately he got off of her and stood, glaring down at her. “Cover yourself and go to that hellion of a stepmother of yours and tell her the marriage is consummated. Tell her there will be no annulment. And you can ready yourself, for we leave here tonight.”

Liana pushed her skirts down over her bare legs and sat up on the bed. “Tonight? But the marriage celebration goes on for two more days. Tomorrow I have planned dancing and—”

Rogan hastily straightened his clothes. “I have no time for dancing, and I have no time for back-talking wives. If this is how you plan to start, then you can stay here with your father and I will take the goods with me. My men and I leave in three hours' time. Be there or not, it doesn't matter to me.” He turned and left the room, closing the door loudly behind him.

Liana sat where she was, too stunned to move. He would leave her behind!

There was a soft knock on the door, then Joice entered. “My lady?” she said.

Liana looked up at her maid, all her puzzlement showing in her eyes. “He leaves here in three hours and he says I may go with him or not. He doesn't care one way or the other.”

Joice sat down on the bed and took Liana's hand. “He thinks he does not need a wife. All men think that. It is up to you to prove to him that he does need a wife by his side.”

Liana pulled away from her maid, and when she moved her legs, she felt pain. “He hurt me.”

“It's always like that the first time.”

Liana stood and anger began to race through her. “I have
never
been treated like this before. He did not bother to even come to his own wedding feast. I had to sit there and endure the stares and smiles from the people. And this!” She glanced down at her skirt. “I may as well have been raped. I'll let him know who he's dealing with.” She had her hand on the door latch when Joice's words stopped her.

“And he will look at you with hatred as he looked at Lady Helen.”

Liana turned back.

“You saw how he despised her,” Joice continued, and suddenly felt very powerful. Her young charge might be beautiful and rich, but she was listening to and obeying Joice. “Believe me, I know what men like Lord Rogan want. He will hate you just as he does her if you defy him.”

Liana rubbed the fingers of her right hand together. She could still feel his hair against her skin and she remembered that, for a moment, there had been softness in his eyes. She did not want to take that away. “What do I do?” she whispered.

“Obey him,” Joice said firmly. “Be ready in three hours. Lady Helen will no doubt protest your leaving, but stand with your husband against her. I have told you how men want loyalty from their wives.”

“
Blind
loyalty?” Liana asked. “Even now, when he is wrong?”

“Most especially when he is wrong.”

Liana listened to this, but still she didn't understand.

Seeing that her young mistress was still confused, Joice continued. “Swallow your anger. All married women feed on anger that they keep to themselves. You will see. You will learn to swallow so much anger that it will become a way of living to you.”

Liana started to say something, but Joice cut her off.

“Go and get ready now or he will leave you.”

Feeling very confused, Liana hurried out of the room. She was going to do whatever she could to prove to this man that she could be a good wife, and if it meant repressing her rage, then so be it. She'd show him that she could be the most loyal of wives.

 

As Lord Rogan went down the stone steps, a frown on his handsome face, the first person he met was Lady Helen. “The deed is done,” he said to her. “There will be no annulment. If there is anything to be added to the wagons, then do it, for we leave in three hours' time.” He started past her, but Helen put herself in front of him.

“You will take my stepdaughter away from her own wedding feast?”

Rogan didn't understand what these women were making such a fuss about. If it was food they wanted, they could take plenty with them. “I will not starve the girl,” he said, making an effort to take the hatred from Helen's eyes. He was not used to women hating him. For the most part they were like that girl he'd married: adoring and soft-eyed.

“You
will
starve her,” Helen said, “as your father starved his wives of warmth and companionship.” Her voice lowered. “As you starved Jeanne Howard.”

Helen stepped back when she saw the look on Rogan's face. His eyes hardened and he looked at her with such rage that she began to tremble.

“Never come near me again, woman,” he said coldly, in a low undertone. He then stalked past her, ignored the calls of the guests to come and join them in a drink, and went outside to the courtyard.

Jeanne Howard, he thought. He could wring that woman's neck for mentioning Jeanne to him, but it made him remind himself to be careful with this new wife, not to allow pretty blue eyes and blonde hair to sway him.

“You look ready to run someone through,” Severn said jovially. His face was flushed from too much food and drink.

“Are you ready to leave?” Rogan growled at him. “Or have you been too busy bedding the wenches to tend to the business at hand?”

Severn was used to his brother's constant anger and he'd had too much wine to let it bother him now. “I have anticipated you, brother, and filled a wagon full of food. Do we leave the feather pillows or take them?”

“Leave them,” Rogan snapped, then hesitated. In his mind he heard Helen Neville saying, “As you starved Jeanne Howard,” and felt a knife twisting in his gut. The girl he'd married—what was her name?—seemed simple enough. “Let her have her feather mattresses,” he growled to Severn, and went to check on his men.

Severn watched his brother walk away and wondered what his pretty little sister-in-law was like.

L
iana hurried to dress herself, to make sure all her new clothes were packed, and to direct her maids to pack her personal articles. Three hours was such a short time to ready herself for her new life.

All the while that she was rushing about, Joice lectured her.

“Do not complain,” Joice said. “Men hate women who complain. You are to take whatever he gives you and never say a word in protest. Tell him you are
glad
to be leaving your wedding feast, glad to have three hours to prepare yourself. Men like their women to be smiling and cheerful.”

“He hasn't liked me yet,” Liana said. “He hasn't taken any notice of me yet except to abolish the risk of an annulment,” she said with some bitterness.

“It will take years,” Joice said. “Men do not give their hearts easily, but if you persevere, love will come to you.”

And that's what she wanted, Liana thought. She wanted her beautiful husband to love her and to need her. If swallowing a little anger now and then would make him love her, then so be it.

She was ready before the three hours were up, and she went downstairs to say goodbye to her father and stepmother. Gilbert was drunk and talking of hawks with some men and barely had a word of farewell to say to his only child, but Helen hugged her tightly and wished her all the best in the world.

Outside, with the Peregrine knights mounted and waiting to ride, the big white falcon banner before them, Liana felt a momentary terror. She was leaving all that she knew behind and trusting her fate to these strangers. She stood frozen where she was and looked for her husband.

Rogan, atop a big roan stallion, came riding in front of her, so close she put up her arm to shield her face from flying gravel. “Mount and ride, woman,” he said, and moved to the head of his men.

Liana hid her clenched fists in the folds of her skirt. Swallow anger, she thought, and tried to calm herself at his rudeness.

Out of the dust came Rogan's brother, Severn, and he smiled at her. “May I help you mount, my lady?” he asked.

Liana relaxed and smiled at this handsome man. He was as ill dressed as Rogan had been and his dark golden hair was too long and ragged at the edges, but at least he was smiling at her. She put her hand on his extended arm. “I would be honored,” she said, and walked with him toward her waiting horse.

Liana was just mounted when Rogan rode back to them. He did not look at her, but he scowled at his brother.

“If you are through playing lady's maid, come with me,” Rogan demanded.

“Perhaps your wife would like to ride in front with us,” Severn said pointedly over Liana's head.

“I want no women,” Rogan snapped, still not glancing at Liana.

“I don't think—” Severn began, but Liana cut him off.

Even she knew that she would not please her husband by being the cause of an argument with his brother. “I would rather stay here,” she said loudly. “I will feel safer surrounded by the men, and you, sir,” she said to Severn, “are needed by…by my husband.”

Severn frowned for a moment as he looked at her. “As you wish,” he said, and with a little bow he rode away from her, to position himself beside his brother at the head of the line.

“Oh excellent, my lady,” Joice said as she came to ride beside her mistress. “You have pleased him now. Lord Rogan will like an obedient wife.”

As they rode through the courtyard, across the drawbridge, and onto the dusty road, Liana sneezed at the dust. “I have been the obedient wife, but now I must ride behind ten men on horses and half a dozen wagons,” she muttered.

“You will win in the end, though,” Joice said. “You will see. Once he sees that you are obedient and loyal, he will love you.”

Liana coughed at the dust and rubbed her nose. It was difficult to think of love and loyalty when one had a mouthful of dirt.

They rode for hours, Liana remaining where she was in the middle of the procession, none of her husband's men talking to her. The only voice she heard was Joice's, lecturing her on obedience and duty, and when Severn asked her if she was comfortable, Joice answered for her mistress, saying that if Lord Rogan wanted his wife here, then of course Lady Liana was happy where she was.

Liana gave Severn a weak smile and choked on a cloud of dust.

“That one shows far too much interest in you,” Joice said when Severn was gone. “You had better let him know his place right away.”

“He is only being kind,” Liana said.

“If you accept his kindness, you will cause problems between the brothers. Your husband will wonder where your loyalties lie.”

“I am not sure my husband has yet looked at me,” Liana mumbled to herself.

Joice smiled through the cloud of dust that surrounded them. With each day she was feeling more and more powerful. As a child, Lady Liana had never listened to her and several times Joice had been punished because Liana had escaped her rule and gotten into some mischief. But at long last here was something she knew which her mistress didn't.

They rode well into the night and Liana knew Joice and her other six maids were drooping with exhaustion, but she did not dare ask her husband to stop. Besides, Liana was too excited to rest. Tonight would be her wedding night. Tonight she would lie all night in her husband's arms. Tonight he would caress her, touch her hair, kiss her. A day spent riding in a little dust was worth such a nightly reward.

By the time they did stop to make camp, her senses were alive with anticipation. One of the knights perfunctorily helped her dismount, and Liana told Joice to see to the other women. Liana looked about for her husband and saw him disappearing into the trees.

Behind her, Liana was vaguely aware of the complaints of her women, who weren't used to riding horses such a distance, but she had no time for them. Taking her time, and trying to act casually, she followed her husband into the woods.

 

Rogan answered a call of nature in the woods, then walked deep into the still darkness toward the little stream. With every step he took, his muscles tightened harder. It had taken longer to get here than when he traveled without wagonloads of goods, and now the darkness was so complete he had to feel his way along the bank.

It was a while before he found the cairn, the six-foot-high pile of stones that he'd built to mark where his eldest brother, Rowland, had fallen to a Howard blade. He stood for a moment, his eyes adjusting to the faint moonlight on the gray stones, and heard the sounds of battle once again in his head. Rowland and his brothers had been hunting and Rowland, feeling safe since they were two days' ride from the Howards' land—the Peregrine land, in truth—had walked away from the protection of his men and sat by the river to drink a jug of beer alone.

Rogan knew why his older brother wanted to be alone and why he so often drank himself into a stupor each night. He was haunted by the deaths of three brothers and their father—all at the hands of the Howards.

Rogan had watched his beloved brother walk off into the darkness and he hadn't tried to stop him, but he'd signaled a knight to follow and keep watch over his brother, to protect him while he lay in drunken oblivion.

Rogan looked at the stones and remembered, and once again cursed himself for having fallen asleep that night. Some small sound woke him, or maybe it wasn't a sound but a premonition. He jumped from his pallet on the ground, grabbed his sword, and started running. But he was too late. Rowland lay beside the stream, a Howard sword through his throat, pinning him to the ground. The knight who guarded him was also dead, his throat slashed.

Rogan had thrown his head back and given a long, loud, piercing cry of agony.

His men and Severn were beside him instantly and they tore the woods apart looking for the Howard attackers. They found two of the men, distant cousins of Oliver Howard's, and Rogan made sure their deaths were long and slow. He ended one man's life when the man mentioned Jeanne.

The demise of the two Howards did nothing to bring back his brother, nor did it lessen Rogan's sense of responsibility now that he was the eldest of the Peregrines. Now it was his job to protect Severn and young Zared. He had to protect them, provide for them, and most of all, he had to get the Peregrine lands back, the lands the Howards had stolen from his grandfather.

His senses were dulled with memory, but at a snapping branch he whirled and put his sword to the throat of the person behind him. It was a girl, and for a moment he couldn't remember who she was. Yes, the one he'd married that morning. “What do you want?” he snapped. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts and his memories of his brother.

Liana looked down at the sword pointed at her throat and swallowed. “Is that a grave?” she asked hesitantly, remembering every word Helen had said about the violence of these men. He could kill her now that he had her dowry, and all he had to do was say he'd found her with another man and he would escape unpunished.

“No,” Rogan said curtly, having no intention of telling her about his brother, or anything else for that matter. “Go back to the camp and stay there.”

It was on the tip of Liana's tongue to tell him she'd go where she pleased, but Joice's warning to be obedient echoed in her head. “Yes, of course I'll return,” she said meekly. “Will you return with me?”

Rogan wanted to stay where he was, but at the same time he didn't want her walking in the woods alone. For all that he couldn't remember her name, she was a Peregrine now and therefore an enemy of the Howards. They would no doubt love to hold another Peregrine woman captive. “All right,” he said reluctantly. “I'll return with you.”

Liana felt a little thrill of pleasure run through her body. Joice was right, she thought. She had meekly obeyed her husband and he was walking her back to the camp. She waited for him to offer her his arm, but he didn't. Instead, he turned his back on her and started walking. Liana ran after him for a few steps, but then her gown caught on a fallen log. “Wait!” she called. “I'm caught.”

Rogan came back to her and, as always, Liana's heart seemed to beat a little faster when he was near.

“Move your hands,” he said.

Liana looked into his eyes, saw the way the moonlight made them sparkle, and was aware of nothing else—until he brought his sword down on the log and hacked away a big piece of her skirt. She gaped at the hole and was utterly speechless. That embroidered silk had cost her quarterly rents from six farms!

“Now, come on,” he commanded, and turned his back on her again.

Swallow! she commanded herself. Fight the anger down and do not display it. A woman is always loving and kind. A woman does not point out her husband's faults. Fighting her anger, she began to follow him and wondered if he was looking forward to their wedding night with as much anticipation as she was.

With every step he took, Rogan remembered ever more vividly his brother's death. Two years' time had done very little to dull the memory. Here he and Rowland had talked of buying horses. Here he and Rowland had talked of James and Basil's deaths eight years before. Here Rowland had spoken of protecting Zared. Here—

“Could you tell me something of your castle? I'll need to know where to hang my tapestries.”

Rogan had forgotten the girl was with him. William, who had been three years older than Rogan, died as a boy of eighteen. His dying words were to get the Peregrine lands back and that would make sense of his death.

“Is it a large place?” the girl asked.

“No,” he answered gruffly. “It is very small. It's the discards of the Howard bitch.” He halted at the edge of the forest and gaped at the campsite. Before him was a sea of big feather mattresses on the ground. They might as well set up torches and blow trumpets to announce their whereabouts to the Howards.

Angrily, he strode across the campsite to reach his brother, who was talking and smiling at one of the Neville maids. He punched his brother's shoulder to turn him around.

“What stupidity is this?” he demanded. “Why not invite the Howards down on our heads?”

Severn pushed Rogan's shoulder. “We're well guarded, and there are only a few mattresses for the women.”

Rogan punched Severn's chest. “I want them out of sight. The women can sleep on the ground or they can go back to Neville.”

Severn doubled his fist and planted it in Rogan's chest, but his heavier brother didn't waver. “Some of the men want to sleep with the women.”

“All the better that they do not sleep too well. If a Howard comes, we'll be ready—as we were not ready the night Rowland was butchered.”

Severn nodded at that and went to tell the men to stow the feather cushions.

At the edge of the forest, Liana stood and watched her husband and brother-in-law punch each other as if they were sworn enemies. She held her breath for fear their fight would erupt into bloodshed, but after a few minutes of low, guttural sentences, they separated, and Liana released her breath. She looked about her and saw some of her women staring, but none of the Peregrine knights seemed to take any notice of their masters' rough exchange. Yet Liana knew that any one of those blows would have felled most men.