Rexanne Becnel (10 page)

E
ARLY THE FOLLOWING MORNING
Lilliane shoved at her door, then shoved again even harder. It gave her great satisfaction when the large varlet Sir Corbett had left to guard her roused himself with a muffled curse, then stumbled to his feet. With neither glance nor word did she acknowledge his presence as she marched regally past him, her slender nose in the air, her jaw thrust forward.

For his part, Sir Dunn seemed amazed at her haughty composure. Then as she made her way briskly down the stairs, he bounded up the steps; no doubt, she suspected, to inform his master of her movements.

As she made her way to the kitchens, Lilliane could only wonder at the speculation racing through everyone’s mind. But she was determined not to speak of the matter to anyone, and the distant businesslike manner she adopted forbade anyone’s broaching the subject of her wedding. Even so, she could not ignore the many looks sent her way. From sympathetic to indignant, to blatantly curious, the guests watched her every move, as did the servants. It would have been enough to send her in tears to her chamber had she not some promise of release from her fate.

But she did have that promise, and it kept her relatively calm. In the long hours of the night she had plotted and schemed. Now she was able to maintain her serene façade, even to the point of seeing the final wedding details attended to, for she knew she would not be at that wedding.

It seemed the only way. She knew Odelia and Sir Aldis were furious with Sir Corbett’s sudden appearance at Orrick. They had obviously thought to control the castle, since Lilliane seemed unlikely to wed. But the arrival of Sir Corbett and his considerable showing of armed men had changed all that. Still, Lilliane was certain her brother-in-law would not meekly allow Sir Corbett to stay if his marriage to Lilliane should fall through. And even as belligerent as he was, Sir Corbett would not risk the censure that would follow should he take Orrick by force. Even the absent King Edward would not condone such action.

With a frown on her face, Lilliane concentrated on her task of calculating the quantity of food needed for the evening meal. She was determined not to worry about Sir Corbett’s reaction to her flight. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Orrick Castle and the green northern half of Windermere Fold not be handed over to him so lightly.

She still could not fathom her father’s reasoning in agreeing to such a union. Her father was a good lord, fair in his treatment of his people, astute in planning for their welfare. To bring such a warlike son-in-law to inherit the demesne would only guarantee discontent and strife. Lilliane could not imagine Sir Corbett bowing to her father’s rule. Neither could she envision Lord Barton stepping aside meekly for his new son-in-law.

No, she assured herself. Any marriage between Orrick and Colchester would be a grave mistake. Between herself and Sir Corbett it was unthinkable.

With a flourish of her quill pen she made the final notation in the kitchen book, then lay that task aside. She had deliberately delayed her return to the great hall until she was certain all the knights would have completed their morning meal. Only one knight was she truly reluctant to face, but he might be lingering for the very purpose of assuring himself of her continued presence—and continued good health—in the castle. But even if he was still there, she reasoned, it would only work to her advantage. For if he saw her busy about her daily tasks, then he might become complacent and her escape would be made more easily.

Resolute, she stood and shook out the flaring skirts of her close-fitting gown. The maize fabric was rich in its figuring and contrasted handsomely with the fine ivory linen of her kirtle beneath it. She was ornamented with no more than a gilded girdle around her waist and the simple net caul that held her heavy hair in a thick coil at her nape. However, as she made her way across the bailey toward the keep, she could not know how the morning sunlight turned her hair to deep red, nor how it highlighted the flush on her cheeks. But more than one head turned at her passing.

When she entered the great hall, her anxious eyes scanned the room quickly. As she’d expected, only a few guests yet lingered over their meal. The others had all adjourned to the many and varied activities planned for their amusement. Servants scuttled around the hall, cleaning the tables, gathering the remains of the meal for the dogs, and returning the serving dishes to the kitchens. All was as it should be, she noted with the satisfaction of a good chatelaine.

Yet she felt a vague dissatisfaction she could not put a name to. Had she looked forward to another battle with the dreadful warrior knight? Had she anticipated sparring with him and perhaps nicking his pride with her sharp accusations and insults?

She did not have time to decide for without warning William stepped from behind a broad column and she stopped, her heart leaping in surprise.

“Oh, my!” She gasped, aware that she was even more dissatisfied now than before. “You should not come upon me on such stealthy feet!”

“I feared you were avoiding me,” he answered bluntly, his still-boyish face watchful.

“I’m not avoiding you,” she exclaimed. “I’m not avoiding anyone.”

“Not even the king’s Bird of Prey?”

“The king’s Bird of Prey? What do you mean?”

“Then you’ve not heard of his great exploits?” William’s tone turned sarcastic. “Your bridegroom is a great friend of Edward’s, or so the gossips in London prattle. Though it is true he rode with Edward in the East, I discount all the deeds I’ve heard credited to him.”

“But … the king’s Bird of Prey? Why, Edward has not even been crowned yet.”

“Exactly. He dallies in Normandy when he should have been here this year and more. England is a ship without a captain,” he said in disgust. “But Edward sends Corbett, his hunter, on some errand,” he added musingly.

“If Corbett of Colchester were truly a confidant of the king, uncrowned though he may be, why would he concern himself with Orrick? And me?” she added, doubt etched on her delicate features. “Surely Edward would reward him with a demesne more important than Orrick.”

At that William’s handsome face lifted in an odd smile, and he looked at her more closely. “Do not judge Orrick Castle so lightly, dear Lilliane. There are few English strongholds so secure along the border to the Scottish hills. While I judge our new king to be a fool to linger so long abroad, I do not completely discount his judgment. No, he knows what he is about. And Sir Corbett does nothing so much as serve his king.”

“Then that is why my father so easily agreed to this abhorrent union!” Lilliane deduced at once. “It was done at the king’s bidding!”

“Perhaps,” William murmured, drawing nearer to her. He cast his eyes about, but spied only three servants busy at their tasks. “You should have been mine,” he whispered more quietly. He took her hands in his earnestly. “I cannot bear the thought of him taking you to bride.”

Lilliane blushed hotly at his bold words and sought to free herself of his hold. But he tightened his grasp.

“If there were but a way to avoid this marriage I would gladly seek it,” she admitted.

“So you find his scarred visage hideous too. Many of the ladies at court were frightened by his brutal appearance, although there were a few who seemed perversely intrigued by his battle marks. I’m glad to see you number among those who would turn away from him in disgust.”

Lilliane did not reply to this. It was true that Sir Corbett frightened her. But she could not put the blame for that on his ravaged flesh. Those marks she had found terrible, and yet not hideous. Unwillingly she thought of the three raking claw marks on his shoulder, and she felt the same shiver of horror and awe.

Unnerved by the memory, she peered at William, trying to drive Sir Corbett’s image from her mind. Sir William of Dearne was an incredibly handsome man. Perfectly formed features and smooth, unblemished skin had kept him a favorite among women of all ages. And yet Lilliane did not feel the same fascination for him that she had once felt. There was a petulance to his lips now. Or had it always been there?

Frowning, she turned away from him and moved briskly to the massive double doors. But he followed her. Before she could descend the few steps to the bailey, he stopped her once again.

“Lilliane …” His blue eyes were direct upon her. But when her clear gaze did not waver, his fell away. He reached his hand to lightly caress her cheek. “This is not how it should have been for us.”

“No,” Lilliane agreed in a soft whisper, her heart heavy with longing for the past. “No, it is not.”

By the time Lilliane had crossed the bailey to the rookery, she was fighting back tears. The doves rose in a flurry at her entrance, raising a swirl of dust. She watched as the birds slowly settled back upon their roosts. Like so many other things at Orrick, time had not changed the rookery at all. Many was the time she’d sought solace here from the heartaches of childhood. The soft cooing of the doves had always calmed her.

But even this soft reassuring remembrance of times past could not ease Lilliane’s troubled mind. With an angry gesture she dashed her tears away. It was not fair. It was not! She was denied even the luxury of mourning her lost love for William, for somehow he was not the same young man she had thought she’d loved. He had changed.

Or perhaps she had.

Lilliane picked up the hem of her kirtle to dry her face, heedless of the renewed commotion among the doves. Her thoughts tumbled disjointedly around her lost dreams, her crushed idealism, and the bitter truth of reality. Then it seemed reality was truly remorseless for a large hand caught hers, and she looked up into Sir Corbett’s glowering face.

She gasped, she was so startled. But he did not allow her time to collect her wits. “So, ’tis William of Dearne you pine for. And to think I gave you credit for being a pure maiden.”

“How dare you!” she cried in true shock. “You have no right to accuse me of such things—”

“If not in deed, then most assuredly in thought,” he cut in. “Do you deny your tears?” With his other hand he rubbed his thumb across her cheek, erasing the trail of one last tear. It might have been an intimate gesture, but the cruelty of his suggestion made it cold and insulting.

She turned her face stiffly away from his touch. “He is married.”

“Precisely,” he answered in a dark tone.

She was silenced by his implication, appalled that he could think such a thing of her. Then her frozen wits were restored and with a swift yank she freed herself of his grip. “You have the mind of a low-born … a low-born …” She struggled for an insult bad enough for him.

“A low-born bastard?” he supplied with a cold chuckle. “I assure you, I am neither low born nor a bastard. You will have to accept my word, however, for my parents cannot verify it. They are both dead, a crime I lay at the doorstep of Orrick.”

“My father did not kill your father!” Lilliane cried with much vehemence. “And he most certainly had nothing to do with your moth—”

“My mother died of a broken heart,” Sir Corbett said with a growl. “She pined for her husband, preferring death to his absence from her.”

His angry interruption gave her pause, and when she retorted it was in a more subdued voice. “You will not listen to the truth. You seek only revenge, and now you would even marry to get that revenge.”

Sir Corbett did not reply at once, only shrugging as if in mute acceptance of her words. But his eyes were sharp upon her, their gray as hard and opaque as slate. “My reasons for this marriage are many. But they are of no matter to you.”

“Of no matter to me!” Lilliane cried. “Is my life of no matter to me then? Is my entire future of no matter? How casually you disrupt my life as if I were of no account! As if I were no more than some poor beast of burden!” Her anger was in full flight as she stood in the dim rookery. Her eyes flashed golden fire as she faced him with her chin arrogantly raised and her clenched fists on her hips.

“’Tis your father’s will.” He shrugged again then let his eyes slide slowly over her. Lilliane felt an ominous shiver as if he had truly touched her with his close scrutiny, but she determinedly ignored it. When he met her eyes once more he smiled, but with no real warmth. “As for being treated as a beast of burden, I remind you that your primary duty as my wife shall be to bear my heir. Small enough burden that shall be, and as I see it, one you are well suited to.”

“And what of the burden of your lustful attention?” she cried recklessly. “I despise you and do not want you for my husband!”

In a moment he had her in his iron grasp and forced her to meet his icy glare. “It does not matter to me that you abhor my touch or my attention. You will be my wife. You will share my bed. You will bear my children. If you cannot stomach my scarred face or my battle-marked body, close your eyes. But do not think to shirk your wifely duty!”

She could feel the heat of his anger down the whole length of her. Only inches separated them, and yet he might have held her close against him so vivid was the feeling. Then without warning he captured her lips in a hard and demanding kiss.

It was of no use for her to struggle: he held her immobile, as if her strength were no more than a kitten’s. In rising panic she fought to avoid his lips, but he quickly stilled her with a hand at her head. He slid his tongue along the full curve of her lower lip with an expertise that made her gasp. Then he forced entry between her startled lips.

Lilliane could not breathe. She could not think or even marshal her frozen body to react. His tongue was heated velvet, plundering her mouth with an intensity that left her confused and weak. She felt his hand move to the small of her back and press her close against his hard frame. As he molded her body against his, so did he seem almost to mold her will to his own.

But Lilliane would not submit to him so easily. In impotent rage she pounded on his shoulders, pushing against his superior strength. She kicked at his shins, but he only moved his hand to her buttocks and lifted her clear of the floor. And all the while he deepened the kiss until his tongue was searching out her own.