Wolf Bride (22 page)

Her eyes flashed open at the sensation, then widened as he continued to harden. He met her gaze wryly, not sure what to say, not even sure how to react himself.

She stared back at him as though he were a stranger, her voice faltering. ‘Wolf?’

‘It seems my body cannot get enough of you,’ he admitted, laughing huskily, then felt his brows twitch into a frown, seeing more than just astonishment in those green-flecked eyes.

Was she still afraid of him?

He stroked her cheek softly with his thumb, trying to reassure her. ‘Forgive me if I hurt or frightened you. It was hard at times to remember your innocence, you gave my kisses back to me so fervently.’

Her flush deepened. ‘You are my husband,’ she pointed out. ‘How else was I to respond?’

‘Not all wives are so eager for their husband’s touch, I can promise you.’

He had not imagined the hurt in her voice. Nor the sharp flick of growing anger. ‘Forgive me if I did aught amiss, my lord. I will lie quiet next time, if mere submission is what you require.’

Silently cursing himself for having mocked his bride at her most vulnerable, Wolf withdrew from her body. He removed her firmly, then tidied his clothing, willing his insatiable lust to be still. Just the scent of her body, warm and musky with pleasure, was enough to drive him mad with desire again.

He took two strides to the hearth and crouched to throw another few logs onto the smouldering fire. The wood began to crackle, and flames soon licked about the logs. He stared into its bright heart for a few moments, listening to the sound of her adjusting her gown and returning slowly to the dining table. His nerves jerked as her skirts brushed him, passing close, and it was all he could do not to jump up and make love to her again.

He had come three times already today, and yet was still partially aroused. How was that possible?

There was something about Eloise that seemed to bring out his instinctual, animal side, and while the sex might be raw and compulsive between them, he was not at all comfortable about where that might lead. He had married Eloise, wild and headstrong as she was, with the sober thought that he would soon bring her to heel and tame her. Instead, he was in serious danger of losing control, and he knew from experience that he could never allow that to happen.

Only when he felt in full command of his baser instincts did he straighten and allow his gaze to turn to her again.

The new Lady Wolf had also tried to regain some much-needed control, he realised, studying her with a faint smile on his lips. She had straightened her gown and combed her unruly hair with her fingers, scooping it to one side of her neck in a makeshift plait. Her face was pale, except for a burning spot of colour in each cheek, and she kept her eyes discreetly lowered to her trencher when he sat down opposite.

He noted her avoidance of his gaze with interest. Had she too been shaken by their passion, despite her protests?

‘Since you ask,’ he murmured, pouring them both some fresh wine, ‘I am not in the business of owning slaves, and do not require mere submission from you. Though you submitted very gracefully, I admit. I shall never forget the look on your face when you told me you trusted me, then opened your mouth for my cock.’ He saw the flash of temper in her face and felt his mouth twitch, trying not to smile. ‘I feel privileged to have married such a very willing wife.’

He thought he could hear her teeth grinding from the other end of the table.

‘More wine?’ he asked sweetly, pushing one of the cups towards her.

She reached out for the wine cup, her bodice stretching tightly about her chest, and he admired the ripe mound of her breasts from a safe distance. Events had conspired against allowing him free access to his wife’s naked body tonight, but he would rectify that as soon as he had an opportunity. And his breath back.

Eloise drank deeply, making no attempt to hide her thirst. Then she wiped her mouth with a napkin and gazed at him. There was a thoughtful look on her face.

‘You were betrothed once before, I recall,’ she commented, then paused, perhaps seeing the effect of her words on his face. ‘You must have been quite young.’

Wolf took a mouthful of wine, but his throat felt as though he were swallowing broken glass. He put down the cup and forced a smile to his lips, but it felt frozen and ugly, a twisted grimace masquerading as indifference.

‘A long time ago, yes,’ he managed, and was surprised to hear how steady his voice was, for inwardly he was burning in the fires of hell. ‘Twelve years at least. I am amazed people still remember.’

‘But it is true?’ she persisted.

‘Unfortunately, yes. When I was a boy, not yet old enough to have ridden to war, I made my addresses to a young lady of the court who seemed eager to receive them, but who later changed her mind.’

Coolly, Wolf put the cup to his lips, pretending to drink, but only watched her over the rim instead. He breathed in the fumes of the sweet dark wine, knowing he was already drunk on her body. He could not allow his senses to become more befuddled tonight. Not if he wanted to keep his past secret. This woman was too good at finding his weaknesses and driving a wedge into them broad enough to break down a castle’s defences.

‘What was her name?’

He could not breathe for a moment, his chest tight. Then control came back, and with it a cold, hard edge that allowed him to say the word without any hint of emotion.

‘Margerie,’ he said lightly. ‘Her name was Margerie.’

‘Was?’

He shrugged. ‘Is.’

She toyed with the remains of her cold meal for a moment, then looked up at him, pity in her face.

‘That must have been hard for you, my lord.’

Wolf’s jaw clenched hard. He did not want her to feel pity for him. Not where Margerie was concerned, at least. Some loves should be remembered for the fool’s gold they were, he thought savagely: beautiful and glittering, always just out of reach, the insubstantial dream of a youth in love.

‘No harder than for you to come here,’ he commented, ‘and be my bride.’

‘I have accepted my duty,’ she said simply.

He gazed at her profile as she looked away, finding it strangely beautiful in the firelight. He had thought her features too uneven for beauty when he saw her at court, and her bearing too clumsy. But now he saw she had a grace of sorts, albeit the grace of a wild animal caught in a trap, and a flicker of underlying power that attracted him.

‘Am I your duty, Eloise?’ he pondered aloud, aware of a cruel prickling under his skin. He saw her turn to stare at him, her cheeks slowly flushing. ‘What we just did together . . . Was that your duty, or your pleasure?’

She drew a sharp breath, then suddenly jumped to her feet, turning towards the window. ‘Hoofbeats,’ she muttered, and looked across at him.

Wolf frowned, listening to the distant thud of hooves, growing ever louder now. He had been so engrossed in their conversation that he had paid no attention to his military training. She was right though. One horseman, coming fast across the fields, and in darkness too. The message must be very urgent for him to risk his neck.

His hand fell to his belt. It was empty; he had left his dagger upstairs. He threw open the door, ignoring Yates, who was loitering in the dark hallway, and took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the jolting pain in his hip.

‘Fetch light, ho!’ he shouted over his shoulder at the servant. ‘Unbolt the front door.’

His dagger was in their bedchamber, lying on a chest. Wolf thrust it into his belt, and returned. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, Yates had lit a torch and was standing in the open doorway.

The young horseman was unknown to him, though the horse looked to be one of his own. Taken fresh from the stables at Wolf Hall that night, no doubt. The messenger dismounted in one slick movement, then came running across the grass towards the lodge. He glanced assessingly at Yates, then dropped to one knee before Wolf.

‘My lord Wolf,’ he gasped, dragging a scrolled and ribboned letter from his pouch and holding it out. ‘From His Majesty, King Henry.’

Wolf broke the king’s seal and unrolled the letter, reading its terse command with a sick feeling in his belly. But it would not do to show any response in front of these men. He nodded coolly to the messenger, spinning him a coin from his pouch, then turned to Yates.

‘Fetch our horses, we will be returning to Wolf Hall tonight. You can ride ahead of us in the donkey cart, and light our way.’ He snapped his fingers at the servant, who was staring at him in amazement. ‘At once, man. Do you hear me?’

‘Yes, my lord. At once.’

Once they were alone again, he limped back to Eloise, still standing in the doorway to their dining room. She looked pale, as well she might.

‘What is it, my lord?’

He tucked the letter into his belt, not wanting her to see how harshly the summons had been worded, then drained his wine cup. It was a cool night for riding; he needed the heat in his veins.

‘You had best prepare yourself for a long journey, my lady,’ he said directly, since there was no time to waste on a slower explanation. ‘We are summoned back to court immediately, on pain of death. It is the king who summons us, so I cannot refuse him nor delay even another day.’

‘To court?’

‘You heard me.’ He did not mean to sound curt, and knew it would undo all the good work he had done this night. Yet Eloise had no inkling of how serious the matter was. Nor was this the right moment to tell her, her frown already suggesting a stormy argument ahead. And she would need all her strength for what lay before her at court.

Concern for her put him on edge; his tone was more brutal than he had intended. ‘Hurry, fetch your cloak. We must leave.’

She stared at him, not moving from the doorway. Her voice was icy. ‘I shall not take a single step until you tell me why we have been summoned back to court and must leave in the middle of the night like criminals.’

Wolf made an impatient noise under his breath, his temper rising swiftly too. ‘God’s blood, Eloise. I am your husband, lest you forget.’ His return glare was furious. ‘Can you not simply trust me and do as I bid you?’

‘No, my good lord.’

‘Very well, then. I hoped to tell you in a gentler moment, but you must have it now, so here it is,’ he said roughly. ‘Queen Anne has been arrested on suspicion of treasonous adultery, and taken to the Tower of London until her trial.’

Eloise blanched at the appalling news, staggering back against the wall as though her legs had suddenly given way. She was afraid, he guessed, and as well she might be. For if found complicit in the queen’s adultery she could lose her head.

He caught her before she fell. Gripping her by the shoulders, he looked down into her ashen face, trying to hide his fear so as not to alarm her further.

‘As one of her maids, you have been summoned to appear before Sir Thomas Cromwell to give your testimony.’

Wolf wished he could refuse this royal summons and protect her from the horrors ahead. But such a refusal would risk both their lives.

‘Now fetch your cloak, and no more arguments. We leave for London at first light.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

Susannah was agitated. ‘But why cannot I accompany you back to court, Eloise?’ she demanded again, staring anxiously out at the sky. ‘Please say yes. It will be dawn soon and you will be gone. It is not fair to send me home when you are escaping to court!’

The sky outside was still that cool slate-grey before dawn, though the household had only awoken an hour before, chasing away the darkness with candles and hurriedly kindled fires. Since then, servants had been bustling about, packing chests and provisions for the journey, and from the stables came the repeated clang of iron, the smith having been called to reshoe the best horses in Wolf’s stables.

Eloise herself had been busy, sorting out which clothes and shoes to pack, and briefly scribbling down orders for the running of the household during her absence. It irked her that she had not even seen Wolf since the night before. After riding back from the lodge together through the dark fields, her husband had escorted her to her bedchamber, then left her with a curt bow and not returned all night. She did not know why Wolf had gone, nor where he had slept last night – if he had slept at all – but his silence towards her since leaving the lodge had been frightening.

‘Forgive me,’ Eloise told her, ‘but it is fair.’

‘How so?’ Susannah turned from the window, her loose fair hair swinging. Her fingers plucked at Eloise’s gown in a childishly agitated manner, putting the lie to her words. ‘I am not a child anymore, and Father will not be angry if you take me with you. In faith, he has often said I should go to court and learn my manners. You had your chance to escape. Now this is mine. And Hugh Beaufort is to accompany you back to court as well . . . Once Hugh is gone, I will be quite alone again in Yorkshire, with nobody to talk to but the cows and sheep. You must let me come with you!’

‘Do you not understand?’ Eloise exclaimed at last, rounding on her sister. ‘I am not returning to court to spite your chances with Hugh Beaufort. I have been summoned as a witness. The accusation against the queen is one of adultery, an offence which is considered treason, punishable by death.’