The Overlord's Bride Read online

  It was very disturbing to discover that her husband was, as her uncle had warned, not a kindhearted man.

  Had she not endured enough already? Was there to be no happiness for her, ever? Was she to always live in dread of pain and sharp, hateful words? Would she never have peace?

  Perhaps once she was with child, they would not have much to do with one another.

  No, that would not do, either. Even after so short a time as the lady of the castle, she knew she did not want her husband to ignore her. She wanted to be a wife, not a breeder of children. Besides, if he cared nothing for her, would he have come looking for her as he had, and warned her of danger?

  And then there was the strange, haunted look that had come to his eyes when she had sworn she was not his enemy, almost as if he was afraid to believe her. Given what his first wife had tried to do, surely it was not so strange that he would be slow to trust her.

  Perhaps she would just have to be patient.

  She let her gaze follow the sentry on the wall walk. He marched to and fro, occasionally stopping to talk to his fellow guard, but not for long. Her husband’s men were clearly too well trained for any slackness in their duties.

  She went to the door and listened. Did he intend to stay below in the hall with the men all night?

  Not that he seemed to enjoy their company any more than he had hers this evening. He had said not a word to her after they returned to Donhallow from the village, not even during the evening meal. Afterward, he had tossed scraps to his dog and stared morosely at the fire.

  She had been silent, too. That was easier here than at the convent, she had to admit, with the excellent food to feast on, yet this enforced lack of conversation added to her anxiety.

  They were husband and wife. That didn’t mean that they would always see eye-to-eye, and she had promised to defer to him, and she would try to be patient.

  However, as her husband, did he not have obligations, too? Was she wrong to desire his respect, if not his affection?

  Despite her bold thoughts, she scrambled under the covers as her husband’s familiar footfalls sounded in the corridor, as well as the click of his huge dog’s nails.

  Pulling the coverings up under her chin, she watched as Cadmus entered and ran about the room, sniffing.

  She frowned. If there was or had been an intruder here, she would already be dead. “There is no one here but me, my lord,” she called out, her determination not to be a coward reasserting itself.

  He entered, striding toward the washstand, while Cadmus sauntered toward the bed. She pulled her knees up to her chest and shifted to the center.

  Her husband began his ablutions. “I told you, he will not bite.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if Cadmus thinks I am an intruder.”

  As if to prove her wrong, the big brute laid his chin on the bed and stared at her with what looked like devotion.

  Or maybe she was appetizing.

  “His looks may be more fierce than his nature, but I have no way of being sure about what he might do,” she continued. “I have not known him long.”

  Her husband slowly turned to look at her. She had not been speaking of him but, she realized, he obviously thought she was.

  That was a good plan.

  Keeping the same matter-of-fact tone, she said, “It can be difficult to adjust to new people.”

  His brow furrowed slightly. “I suppose.”

  “And sometimes, without meaning to, mistakes can be made.”

  He regarded her for a long moment. “Years ago, a peddler brought a sickness here,” he finally replied. “He arrived ill, and whatever upset the balance of his humors, it soon spread to others. My father and I, and many others, were laid low, the old and very young most of all. Several people died, including my father.”

  Elizabeth flushed. “I didn’t know, my lord, or I would not have been so upset when you sent them away.”

  “Such men are often dishonest, too,” he added. “I do not want my people cheated.”

  “I can comprehend that, too, and to speak truly, I can believe that peddler might not be the most honest of men. It was the woman and child I wanted to help.”

  “I could have explained to you instead of flying into a temper,” he grudgingly conceded. “I did not know my wife would feel it so necessary to share our food.”

  “I was taught a chatelaine should dispense charity, my lord. In future, however, I shall ask first.”

  “Good.”

  He took off his belt and tossed it on the chest. Her heart began to race as he stripped off his tunic and laid it beside the belt, but she would not be distracted. “My lord, as you are my husband, I am bound to respect and honor you, and I shall ask before I am charitable. I apologize for causing any trouble. But I…” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be afraid of you.”

  He stared at her a long moment.

  Then, as he looked at her, it seemed as if something within him yielded. His expression softened—only a little, but enough to tell her that he meant what he said next. “I do not want you to fear me, either.”

  A strange sense of giddiness blanketed her, as it did the times she was nearly caught when she was stealing food, and escaped. “Then tell me, my lord, is it your nature to sulk?”

  His brows lowered.

  Fearing that she had ruined what she had just achieved with a flippant remark, words came tumbling out of her mouth in an attempt to dispel her dismay. “Or perhaps it is simply your nature to be surly in the evenings. If so, I will take up my needle and sew, as much as I dislike it. I always prick my fingers. Or I could learn to play chess, although it looks to be a boring game. I saw the Mother and one of the sisters play once, while I was scrubbing the floor of the nun’s hall. They just sat and stared at the board, it seemed. I can be silent, if you would prefer that.”

  One of his brows slowly rose.

  “I can be quiet, if I must. The Lord knows I have had years to learn. I can more easily bear the silence if I know you are not purposefully ignoring me. I do not like to be ignored.”

  A sparkle of amusement twinkled in his eye. “I noticed.”

  “Compared to some people,” she went on as relief flooded through her. “I may not have a quiet nature, but it has never been my way to seek attention simply for attention’s sake. I did all I could to escape notice at the convent, but I was not very successful.”

  “That I can believe.”

  “I only want you to understand that I don’t want you to ignore me when I have displeased you. I can learn from my errors, and I do remember the vow I made to you when you agreed to marry me.”

  “Good.”

  He sat on the bed and removed his boots, then rose and took off his breeches. As he looked at her, his body naked, his skin glowing in the candlelight, his savage hair about his shoulders, there was something else she would never forget: how he had taken her with such fierce passion in his solar that morning.

  She swallowed hard. “If you don’t want to talk to me, naturally I don’t expect you to force yourself. As I said, I can keep quiet when I…”

  He got in beside her. “Elizabeth, be quiet,” he whispered in his low, husky voice as he pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.

  He kissed her with so much ardor, he took her breath away. As for speaking, there was not a thing she wanted to say as she returned his kiss with equal passion.

  His strong arms held her tight as his tongue gently, but with the certainty that she would not refuse, slipped into her mouth.

  With equally exquisite leisure and command he began to stroke her body. His fingers glided over her back, her breasts, her thighs with the same delicate touch a musician used to play a harp.

  And how he made her body sing!

  But she was not a passive thing, and she could not resist the urge to stroke and caress her husband’s virile body. She felt every scar, and when her fingertips brushed across his hardened nipples, she gloried in his gasp of pleasu
re.

  “Can we do it twice in one day?” she asked, her breathing fast and shallow as she stared into his darkly passionate eyes.

  He pulled away a little. “Are you sore?”

  “A little, but not much.” She flushed with embarrassment, yet didn’t look away. “I don’t mind a little pain.”

  “I will make you ready for me this time,” he vowed in a low, seductive rasp.

  Her heart racing, she whispered, “How do you do that?”

  “Like this.”

  Chapter Nine

  Leaning his weight on one arm, Raymond reached toward Elizabeth’s bare foot with his free hand, then ran his finger from the crevice between her toes toward her ankle and up her naked leg. She had never known such exquisite torment and she could not help squirming.

  Then he started at the toes of the other foot, and as he dragged his fingers over her, he bent down to press light kisses on her neck. Then her collarbone. Then, through the light fabric of her shift, her breasts, that sensation making her feel as if something inside her was being drawn tighter and tighter and tighter.

  He untied the knot in the drawstring of her shift and slipped his hand inside.

  Gasping, she arched back, offering all of her body to him, anxious for his passionate embrace.

  He moved, lifting himself so that he was kneeling between her legs, but he didn’t enter her. Not yet.

  Instead, he continued to kiss and caress her. His hands lightly swept over her, touching her in places nobody had ever touched her, and as tenderly as if she were a fine and expensive piece of glass.

  “Love me, my lord,” she moaned. “Please, love me.”

  He stilled, and she opened her eyes to find him gazing at her with a strange expression.

  “What is it?” she cried, more afraid now than she had ever been, of his dog, or the Reverend Mother, or him. “What have I done?”

  “You?” he replied so quietly she could scarcely hear him above the pounding of her own heart. His eyes shimmered in the candlelight as he brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “You have done nothing.”

  “Should I? Is there something more I should do?” she asked, half eager, half shy, certain that there must be. She should surely participate more, or perhaps she had done something wrong.

  Determined to prove that she could learn, she raised her hand and brushed her fingers over him, using that same light touch. Closing his eyes, he sucked in his breath.

  She grabbed hold of his shoulders and pulled herself up so that she could suck his nipple between her teeth and tease it with her tongue.

  As her lips explored his chest and she buried her hands in his long hair, he ground his hips against her, the weight adding to her excitement. Taking one hand, she pushed up her shift, then leaned back, pulling him down upon her with the other hand.

  With a low and hungry growl, he took her again with fiery passion.

  Gripping him, she turned her head and bit her lip to keep from crying out.

  Not in ecstasy, but in distress.

  She would say nothing to stop him, although this hurt more than she had anticipated. He was her husband and this was his right.

  Fortunately, she did not have to brook the agony long. He cried out and relaxed, lying with his weight on his elbows, his breath hot and panting in her ear.

  He raised himself higher and looked at her, frowning. “What is it?”

  “It was a little painful, my lord.”

  He rolled onto his side and glared at her. “Why did you not tell me?”

  “Because you are my husband.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “But if we are to make a baby…”

  “I could have waited a day. Or more.”

  “Perhaps I could not. I want to bear you a child, my lord.”

  “So this is but a duty to be endured?”

  She wished she knew him better, so she would say the right thing. “Do you want an honest answer, my lord, or a suitably ladylike one?”

  His gaze searched her face. “The honest one.”

  “Then I confess that I would gladly endure the hurt for what went before, even if that was not the way to make a baby.”

  A smile slowly dawned on his face, and his pleased expression made her happy, too. “Come,” he said softly, and this time, as he held one arm out for her to nestle beside him, it was not an order.

  It was a request, and one Elizabeth was glad to obey.

  Raymond felt something licking his fingers. “Cadmus,” he chided sleepily, rolling over onto his back and pulling his hand under the covers.

  “It was I, my lord.”

  Raymond opened his eyes wide and found Elizabeth standing beside the bed, fully clothed in that loathsome gray dress, her beautiful hair covered by a plain white scarf with a neat mend in the bottom of one corner, and a wimple about her elfin chin.

  God’s wounds, she was pretty and charming, with that shy smile coupled with her boldly searching eyes.

  “You licked me?” he asked huskily, believing she might do something so outrageous, and outrageously exciting.

  “I kissed your hand,” she replied, her smile widening in a way that he found totally beguiling.

  Wrapping his hand around her neck, he drew her down to press a kiss onto her soft, firm lips. “Come back to bed.”

  She pulled away. “It is after dawn, my lord.”

  He glanced at the window and regretfully realized she was right.

  “I have not been awake long,” she said.

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Very well. I awoke before dawn—but you watched me sleep yesterday. I thought today I would watch you. Do you know you look much younger when you sleep?”

  Younger and more vulnerable, perhaps?

  She was not Allicia, and as he had said last night, she had done nothing to warrant his suspicions.

  Neither had Allicia, until he felt the leather strap tightening around his neck.

  “Have I said something wrong? I didn’t mean to imply that there was anything bad about the way you look when you are awake.”

  That brought a smile to his lips. “How are you?” he asked.

  “Not very sore.”

  A surge of desire flashed through him, powerful and primitive. However, as he had said last night, he could be patient. He really ought to let her body get used to him.

  He climbed out of the bed and her eyes widened. He did not explain that a man need not be aroused to be in that state first thing in the morning, although at present, he was.

  “Rual tells me you have no steward, either of the estate or the household,” she said after he had pulled on his breeches.

  He nodded.

  She sat on the bed and watched him dress. “That must make a lot of work for you, managing both the castle and your tenants besides. I should think a man of your wealth and station should have at least an estate steward, or do you have them to run your other estates?”

  She would find this out soon enough, he reasoned.

  “I have no other estates.”

  “None?”

  “None.”

  “But my uncle implied—” She fell silent, her forehead wrinkled.

  He hoped she didn’t ask about his money.

  “Well, one large estate is better than several small ones. We would have to be traveling from one to the other all the time. How large is your estate, my lord?”

  “Large enough.” Larger than Montross’s, at any rate.

  She twisted her fingers in her lap. “I don’t mean to pry.”

  He kept silent as he put on his sword belt.

  “Will you ride out again today?”

  He inclined his head in assertion.

  “Do you patrol because of serious trouble, my lord? Do you expect an attack, although I must say I am shocked anybody would dare.”

  His lips jerked up into a smile. “They would if they thought they could.” She rose and came toward him, an enticing, powerfully seductive softne
ss in her eyes.

  “We also look for thieves or poachers,” he continued, his low voice falling softly. “Check the state of the roads and byways. Many things.”

  “If any man tried to attack you or your castle, he would be a fool,” she whispered as she ran her hands up his chest.

  With a great sense of self-restraint, he grabbed them and looked down at her. “Stop, or you may never heal.”

  She pouted, her bottom lip thrust out in a manner that nearly made him forget what he had just said. Instead, he chucked her lightly under the chin. “Now who is sulking?”

  She laughed softly as she embraced him around the waist. It was a gesture at once familiar and pleasant. “I cannot help but be disappointed, my lord. I want to bear your child so much!”

  “A child or my child?”

  A sincere smile lit her face. “Yours, my Lord Kirkheathe. Yours.”

  His lips found hers in an instant. Holding her close, he wanted to forget the memories and all the suspicion it created within him. He wished that the past could be wiped away and he could be born anew, able to love without dread and trust her completely. Perhaps some day…

  Cadmus whined at the door and he reluctantly stopped kissing her.

  “I think he wants to go out,” Elizabeth observed with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “I should eat, too. To keep up my strength.”

  Chuckling softly, he went to the door and let Cadmus out, then waited for her to take his arm to go to the chapel for mass.

  “May I ride with you on your patrol?”

  He halted on the tower steps and looked at her questioningly.

  Her eyes shone eagerly. “Cadmus is not the only one who has been inside too long. The journey here was the first time I was outside the walls of the convent in thirteen years, and yesterday the first time I have felt free for long before that. I would very much like to see your estate, too, if I may. It looks to be a fine day, and I think I am not too sore.”

  Why not? Why not let her ride out with him? And yet, if he gave in to her request, what kind of precedent would he be setting? “You were not going to ask for anything.”

  “Oh,” she said, lowering her head so that he couldn’t see her beautiful eyes. “I forgot again, didn’t I? I’m sorry, my lord,” she finished sadly.