THE WARLORD (15 page)

He drew back, but Tess urged him to return, drawing him closer. "Please. Don't stop."

Her whispered plea drove Kenric forward, shuddering as he sank deeper into her body. The proof of her virginity slowed his progress and he hesitated to savor the feeling, the final moment before complete possession. Until that instant there had been the small but lingering doubt that no virgin could possibly respond so openly, so lustily. He could only wonder what she would be like with experience. A wave of molten heat ran through his blood, and he squeezed his eyes closed, trying to shut out that thought in a desperate battle to maintain his control.

He lost.

Kenric drew back and thrust forward into her soft body, powerfully, forcefully, unable to stop until he was completely buried in her tight sheath, his growl of pleasure muffled by Tess's cry of pain. He groaned in defeat and stilled his body immediately, hoping he could allow her time to recover from the shock of his invasion.

"Hush, love," he said, frowning over the ragged sound of his voice. The blood surged wildly through his body, pounding an urgent message in his ears to complete the act. "The hurting part is over, sweet."

She trembled violently beneath him, and he felt hot tears mar her cheeks. He lifted his head to place light kisses across her face, whispering comforting words, trying to be gentle as he stroked her face and hair. But she gripped his throbbing shaft in convulsive waves, the sensation too powerful to ignore. His hips moved instinctively against her. Tess whimpered and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

Kenric summoned forth the dwindling reserves of his willpower, steeling himself against the fantastic sensation of being buried deep within her body, of holding her so close that she felt a part of him. He took a ragged breath and turned his attention to arousing her again, praying her pain would fade quickly. "You will know only pleasure from now on, sweetheart."

"S-something is wrong," she gasped, turning her head to avoid his lips. "Please let me up. I want to stop now."

"Hush, sweet. It's too late to stop."

Her body stiffened and she pushed against him until he
raised
up on his elbows. Her voice was edged with fear and the frightened, trapped look in her eyes made Kenric hesitate. "Something is wrong with me. I can't do this!"

Urgency was swiftly replaced by a strange desire to comfort. He cupped her face in his hands and brushed the tears away with his thumbs, annoyed to realize his hands were trembling. He'd never trembled in his life.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Tess." His voice didn't sound as calm or steady as he'd like, but Tess seemed to hear him. "A virgin's maidenhead can be breached only once. I will not hurt you again."

"You are hurting me now," she whispered tearfully.

Damn. Now he wished he'd paid more attention to his soldiers' bawdy talk of the best ways to bed a virgin. He'd probably done this all wrong. He hadn't been very gentle, and really had no idea how long it took a woman to recover from her body's first taste of a man. "Does it hurt as much as when I first entered you?"

She shook her head uncertainly.

"You see?" He smiled to cover his uncertainty. "Your body is adjusting to me already."

His smile disappeared when she instinctively tightened around him, as if to test his words. "You must trust me in this matter, Tess." His voice was ragged again, his desire returning full force. "I want to give you pleasure, make you forget the pain. Let me kiss you again, sweetheart."

She hesitated only a moment before raising her lips, returning his kiss. He didn't force her passion to return, but let her set the pace until she allowed her senses to surrender to his kisses. He knew the importance of this moment. Forcing her now would mean forcing her each time he took her to his bed. She would never trust him again. This she must finish willingly.

The tension in Tess's body seemed to ease and she gave his kisses her full attention. She shifted restlessly beneath his hips, and moaned with pleasure at the simple movement.

"God, Tess," he gritted out between clenched teeth. "Don't move if…" He couldn't finish the thought. He buried his face against her neck, his body braced, struggling to remain still.

"You feel wonderful," Tess sighed.

Kenric withdrew until he felt her arch beneath him. Then he began to thrust within her. Wave after wave of pure, sensual pleasure washed through them both with each delicious, measured stroke he gave her. Her body moved
,
stretched in ways she seemed to have no control over. He knew where to touch her, to kiss, to move in just the right way to increase the sensations and make her strain for more.

Her low, breathless moans told Kenric how fully she was responding and he whispered seductive words of encouragement in her ear. His strokes became more powerful, driving them both to more primitive instincts.

He felt her tremors begin, saw the look of awe and wonder widen her eyes before they closed against the drowning waves of fulfillment that washed over her body for the first time. A roar of completion unleashed
his own
shattering climax.

Kenric was slow to return to reality, feeling as though Tess had drained every ounce of life from his muscles. He was probably crushing her, but he couldn't seem to find the strength or inclination to move. He didn't want to move until he was forced to let her breathe. This strange feeling of utter contentment was unique. He'd never experienced the like. His usual habit was to roll away from a woman once his need was satisfied, which made the desire to languish in his wife's arms a completely new emotion.
And an unsettling one.

He forced himself to shift his weight to his elbows, to see Tess's reaction to this experience. Her violet eyes were soft and sultry, her hair, undone at some point by his hand, fanned in a bright golden wave across his pillows. Her steady gaze still reflected her innocence, her wonder.

Suddenly uncomfortable, he looked away. What they'd done had nothing to do with innocence, everything to do with lust. He wanted her desire, her body, nothing more. His eyes drifted back to her, seeing several marks of his passion, bruises that marred the creamy skin of her neck and breasts. The scowl on his face grew darker as he tried to recall when that had happened, disturbed that he couldn't remember. He'd never lost control so completely. What had she done to him? When his eyes returned to her face, the sleepy, satisfied expression was gone. She looked worried.

"I did not please you?"

Kenric didn't ease her fears. In fact, he didn't even hear her question as he frowned over his reluctance to separate their bodies then forced himself to roll away. Locking his hands beneath his head, he stared sightlessly at the ceiling. So much for his well-vaunted control, he thought in disgust, his mighty vow to keep his lust for her tightly reined. She'd turned him into a mindless beast.

Never again, he promised himself solemnly. He would never give her that much power over his body ever again. He would never give
anyone
that much of his control. The next time he would perform the duty as just that, a duty. She would not look at him again with eyes that made him feel all at once like a savage conqueror and the
most tender
of lovers.

Tess rolled away from Kenric, a cold knot of shame building in her heart. She flipped back the covers, intending to rise, but was stopped by his grip on her wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"To bathe," she answered bravely, not quite able to meet his eyes.

"Not yet." His voice brooked no argument, but he coaxed her back to bed by kissing the palm of her hand. The kiss did nothing to relax her rigid body, and she turned away, artlessly draping a thick swatch of hair over her face.

"Look at me, Tess."

She shook her head, mumbling that she'd rather not.

His mouth drew to a thin, tight line. "Did I hurt you so badly?"

Tess lowered her gaze and answered him quietly. "Nay, I just wanted to bathe."

She wanted to wash away her humiliation, to scrub away the memory of what had foolishly meant so much to her, and nothing to him.

"You will not wash away my seed," he said callously. "This marriage has brought me little but trouble. If nothing else, I will have an heir of you."

"Am I to be a brood mare, then?"

"Your ability to give me legal heirs is your greatest asset at the moment," he said tersely. "Any common wench can satisfy my other needs."

Tess resisted the urge to slap him. "You believe that my ability to give you children legally is the only thing that sets me apart from your serfs and servants?"

He shrugged, looking unconcerned. Tess fumed in silence, not about to voice an argument. If he was truly so ignorant that he thought wives were good for nothing more than children, she certainly wasn't going to correct his opinion. She could prove him wrong, of course. Given the state of Montague, she could prove him wrong in short order. Not that she'd do anything to make his life any easier, the heartless beast. He was—

"Be satisfied that I found pleasure with you."

She narrowed her eyes to angry slits, infuriated that he had the gall to scowl at her while telling such a huge lie, hurt that he truly thought her so worthless. "Now that I know frowns are an indication of your pleasure, I will not mistake them again for disgust, milord."

"Disgust?"
Kenric began to chuckle then he laughed outright. He brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear,
then
traced the curve of her cheek. "Aye, the taste of your lips disgusted me greatly, Tess. Perhaps I need remind myself just how awful it was."

"I don't—"

He covered her mouth before she could object further, holding her chin firmly when she tried to turn away. Yet he didn't force the kiss upon her, lifting his head before she could respond.

"Nay, I find nothing disgusting in your kisses. Perhaps it was the sight of your body," he said with mock concern, his gaze sweeping the length of her. Tess blushed and tried to cover her nakedness, but he pulled her hands away.

"Nay, I see nothing that displeases me," he said, his disappointment exaggerated. "It must have been the feel of your skin against my lips, or your body beneath mine." He placed light kisses against her shoulder, traveling higher until he was nibbling at her ear and his body covered hers once again.

"I think we need try this again, just to make certain," he whispered in her ear.

Tess tried to stay mad, to use her anger as a weapon against his steady seduction. But he was a conqueror at heart, relentless until she surrendered completely. She was lost when he murmured his desire for her, told her how he would make love to her, murmuring sweet words she'd never imagined. Whatever reasons he'd had for scowling, he convinced her that they had nothing to do with the physical side of their marriage.

Yet afterward he stared down at her with the same fierce expression, his frown as black as ever. He swore softly and rolled away, presenting her with his back. Tess sighed in resignation, wondering if she would ever understand this man.

Nearly three hours had passed since Kenric's departure to lead an afternoon patrol, but Tess could almost feel his presence in the room even now. She held her mirror at a new angle, deciding she didn't look any different. It wasn't fair. There should be some noticeable change when a maid became a woman. She should look older, wiser somehow.

Kenric certainly hadn't changed, inside or out. This morning he'd frowned his usual frown then
risen
from the bed the emotionless stranger she'd married. Not one word was spoken as he dressed. He left with the brief explanation that he'd be out on patrol and would see her at evening meal. He'd asked no questions about what she intended to do with her day, offered no suggestions about how to begin her duties as the new mistress of Montague, telling her without words that he meant what he said the night before. Her worth was limited to the duties she would perform in their bedchamber.

Tess was sorely tempted to do exactly what he expected, which was exactly nothing, just to spite him
She
could blissfully ignore her duties and let the man wallow in the filth of his house. She could sit hack and watch everything within the fortress slowly crumble while she waited for her husband to join her each night to perform the only duty he expected of her. Yet her mind rebelled against the thought of allowing herself to be used so lightly. Besides, he would never know what he was missing if she didn't show him. Doing the opposite of what Kenric expected was the only way to keep any shred of self-respect, and to prove how foolish his ideas were about the usefulness of a wife.

His behavior reminded her that she must allow their newfound intimacy to mean nothing, to change nothing. She must do whatever she could to escape again, this time for good. In the meantime, she would not only run Kenric's home as efficiently as he ran his army, she would act the perfect wife as well. What better way to regain his trust and that of his people? What better way to plot an escape than to act as if the thought would never occur? They would let down their guard eventually. An opportunity would arise sooner or later. Then Kenric would realize how valuable she was, how much she'd brought to his life, not in lands or coin, but with riches that couldn't be counted.

The shadows on the wall had grown long and she knew dinner would begin in little more than an hour. The thought of seeing Kenric again made her pulse quicken, fear mixed equally with excitement. Aside from spending the afternoon plotting to betray him, how would she be able to calmly eat her meal seated next to a man who'd seen her naked mere hours before? Heavens! She did much more than
lie
naked with Kenric.

Tess tugged the ribbon from her hair and frowned over her failure with her braid. She picked up her brush and headed toward the door. It was past time to become better acquainted with her sister-in-law, and this was the excuse she needed to pay Helen a visit. She threw open the door but stopped abruptly, startled by what she found there. The guards outside her door looked almost as surprised as she did.

"You are still here?" Tess asked. It was a statement really, and her expression said as much. "I assumed I was free to leave my room now that my husband has returned. He did ask me to meet him in the great hall for evening meal."

"You are free to go wherever you wish, milady." The older of the two gave her a small bow, adjusting his dark blue tunic with a firm tug. "I am Sir Simon Delacort, and this is Sir Evard of Cordray," he said, indicating the younger man on his right. Shifting her gaze from the grizzled warrior, Tess noticed that Evard wore the same dark blue uniform as Simon. His dark hair stood slightly on end, as if he'd just been running his hands through it, and his bright green eyes were still wide with surprise at seeing her. It seemed nearly all of Kenric's men had this odd habit of staring at ladies.

"The baron wishes us to accompany you whenever you leave these chambers," he continued. "He worried you might become lost, being new to the castle. We are here to escort you wherever you wish."

"You must sleep at my door to do this?" Tess asked pointedly, eyeing the pallets spread along the wall in the hallway. Hah, new to the castle, indeed.

"We are ever at your service, milady." Simon bowed again.
" 'Tis
as the baron wishes."

"I was just on my way to find Lady Helen," Tess said hesitantly. This was her chance to make certain they were under orders to follow her everywhere. "There are a few questions I wish to ask Lady Helen, but 'tis not such an errand as needs an escort. I shall be quite fine should you just point the way to her chamber."

"The nature of your errands are not my business, milady," Simon said patiently. He forced a smile, as if he enjoyed his duty. "Whether the errand
be
large or small, we are at your service."

"Very well, then," Tess muttered, her question answered.

When Tess hesitated, Simon gestured toward the south passage,
then
fell into step behind the baroness. She chanced to look over her shoulder and spied Evard, rooted to the spot, still looking as startled as he had when she opened the door. Simon took several quick steps backward and grabbed Evard's arm, hissing a warning under his breath. "Shake out of it, boy. Shall I tell the baron you neglect your responsibilities to gaze cow-eyed after his wife?"

Evard's eyes widened and he snapped to attention, his steps brisk with military precision.

Tess hesitated for a moment when they reached Helen's chamber, uncertain now if her visit was such a wise idea. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. To her surprise, Simon reached around and opened the door, telling her in a low voice that a baroness had no need to knock at her own doors. Simon eased his way around her and announced stiffly, "The baroness seeks your company, Lady Helen."

Simon bowed slightly to Helen. Kenric's sister was seated at a small table with her hand frozen in midair, caught reaching for one of many small jars laid out in front of her. Simon turned and gave a more formal bow to Tess before backing out of the room.

Helen ignored Tess completely, returning her attention to the toiletries. The woman was obviously vain enough to pay close attention to her personal appearance, but Tess wondered where that vanity disappeared to when it came to the state of her home. Helen's room was also as spotless as Kenric's, though not as richly appointed. A warm, hand-knotted rug covered the area before the hearth and the rest of the floor was covered with woven rushes. But they were clean and sprinkled with herbs to scent the air. In fact, everything in the room was as neat and tidy as its owner. Either Helen didn't care how the rest of the castle looked, or it looked that way on purpose.

"Hurry with that sewing," Helen ordered.

"Aye, milady," Miriam murmured. The servant was seated on plush blue-velvet pillows that lined the window well in Helen's room. The cozy seat looked so inviting that Tess decided to make the same sort of seat in her room. The light streaming in would make reading much easier. Miriam, however, was using the light to sew by, a rose-colored gown spread across her lap.

"Your man is too rude by half, Lady," Helen announced, turning her attention for the first time to her new sister-in-law. The glance she gave Tess was brief, no more than one would give a bothersome fly.

"He does seem a bit formal for a casual meeting between
family
," Tess said hesitantly, taken aback by the woman's cold tone.
"Even though we are not well acquainted."

Tess waited for a reply, wondering why Helen was being so hateful. She'd also noted the brief flicker of distaste on Helen's face when she pointed out their new relationship. Did Helen truly hate her brother so much that she would extend that hatred to his wife? And why did she hate Kenric in the first place? Tess gave up her idea of asking Helen to help braid her hair and decided to come straight to the point.

"I came to ask your assistance on a matter that might help us become better acquainted. Being new to Montague, I happened to notice a few changes that could be made to improve the place. The castle is large, and I can understand how one woman would have difficulty managing such an estate, but we could accomplish much by working together."

Helen looked at Tess without a hint of emotion. It unnerved Tess the way these Montagues could look one over so impersonally. She lifted her chin and stood her ground. The smile Helen finally gave her was chilling.

"I wish you luck with the improvements you wish to make, Lady Tess." Helen turned again to the table, removing the lid of one jar and dabbing her fingers inside. She tilted her head back and rubbed the cream onto her throat, speaking to Tess as one would to a child. "But you will find the servants resentful of interference from an outsider. It will take time for them to accept you as their mistress."

"I suspected as much," Tess allowed. "However, I was not asking for the servants' assistance just yet, I was asking for yours. For instance, the hall would benefit by the addition of sturdy chairs and finely stitched cushions such as these," Tess said, brushing her hand along Helen's blue window cushions. "The carpenters will need to make the chairs, but I would appreciate your help with the cushions. Did you stitch
these
yourself?"

"I do not sew." Helen's lips were pressed together so tightly they were nearly white, her expression as stony as ever.

"You do not sew," Tess repeated slowly. She let her gaze travel around the room, examining numerous wall tapestries and the embroidery work that festooned a vast pile of pillows on Helen's bed. "Or perhaps you do not sew when the project is not of your liking. Who fashioned the pillows on your bed, Lady Helen?"

"I do not seem to recall." Helen shrugged. Tess was silent a moment before shrugging her own shoulders.

"Given time, I believe we shall see great improvements in your sewing skills, Lady Helen." Tess stood up and walked leisurely toward the door, turning to face Helen once more. "In fact, I believe you shall be skilled enough to begin stitching seat cushions within a fortnight."

Tess closed the door on that prediction and Helen's mutinous expression. It was a beginning, she decided with a grim smile. Not a very positive beginning, but a beginning all the same.

Kenric did his best not to pace the great hall as he waited for his wife's arrival. Fitz Alan was droning on about some stupid horse in his stables, but Kenric's thoughts were occupied elsewhere. The candle that marked the time, burning from one red ring to the next each hour, told him Tess was late. Kenric hated tardiness. It bespoke a lack of discipline. He'd have to have a talk with her on the subject.

Maybe she was keeping him waiting on purpose, just to annoy him. He wondered if she was angry with him for some reason, perhaps because he'd left her to lead the afternoon patrol. She didn't seem angry when he left. Not that she should be. It was his duty to patrol the perimeters of the castle whenever he was in residence. The task showed his men how seriously he took his obligations. He was no lax lord to wallow in wine and a soft castle bed while others saw to his protection. Riding out with his men showed his concern for their safety. Surely Tess understood that.

Aye, of course she understood, Kenric decided. He relaxed against the mantel of the fireplace, one arm stretched out negligently along the polished oak beam. A moment later, he caught sight of Tess out of the corner of one eye and bolted upright, his senses suddenly alert. He edged away from the fireplace to keep her in his line of vision. The pretense of speaking with Fitz Alan was a convenient way to observe her without revealing his interest as he watched her take a seat at the head table.

"Aye, this colt is the most amazing shade of pink I have ever laid eyes on," Fitz Alan declared.

"Hmm," Kenric murmured absently, his eyes glued to Tess. He thought her eyes sparkled like
jewels,
her hair had a sheen to it that gold could not match. God, she was beautiful, like a splash of sunshine in his dreary hall. In that moment, Kenric knew he would never tire of looking at her.

"And imagine my astonishment when the beast suddenly sprouted wings and flew from the stable, right over my head."

"Aye, amazing," Kenric agreed seriously. Tess turned to thank Simon when he poured her a cup of wine, but she kept her gaze glued to the table. Why wouldn't she look at her
husband ?
Kenric frowned as he tried to recall anything he might have said to upset her.

"Of course, one would expect such a feat. The colt's sire was bright green with big blue wings."

"What the devil are you babbling about?" Kenric asked, annoyed that he was finally being drawn into Fitz Alan's conversation. "Nay, do not explain," he continued, certain the explanation wouldn't be to his liking.
" 'Tis
mealtime and I am hungry. Save your tales for some gullible squire."

Fitz Alan bowed low to cover his smile and outright laughter. He strolled over to the table and took the seat at Kenric's left. Kenric spoke quietly with Evard before gaining his own chair, sparing a quick glare for Simon who seemed to be telling Tess a most amusing tale. She had yet to turn and look at him.
By accident or design?
Kenric wondered.

"You may take your seat next to Fitz Alan," he ordered Simon, displeased with the attention his vassal showed his wife. It wasn't proper. Was it? And he didn't like the way Tess's back stiffened at the sound of his voice. Simon removed himself and Tess turned in her chair, one hand reaching for her goblet of wine. She took a delicate sip then finally, finally, turned toward him.