Montague - The Warlord Part 11

"Why not?" Tess repeated, looking up to meet his gaze. Her eyes turned soft and sultry. The sight of her tongue darting out to wet her lips sent heat snaking to his belly. She stared at his mouth and he clenched his hands into fists so they wouldn't pull her up against his chest for a long, deep, kiss.

"You should not look at me this way in public," Kenric whispered, the objection lacking any conviction. In truth, he loved the way she was devouring him with her eyes. But not here, for all to see. "Go upstairs, Tess. To our chamber. I shall join you soon."

"The meal is not ended," she pointed out, her voice still a whisper. " 'Tis a rudeness if I leave the table before you have finished your meal. Your men will talk."

"Imagine what they will say if I bed you here."

Tess's mouth dropped open. It took a moment for her to recover, but she gave him a small, shy nod, her eyes still locked with his.

Fitz Alan waited until the baroness disappeared above the stairs before addressing Kenric.

"Perhaps now would be a good time to give any orders you wish carried out on the morrow, milord." Fitz Alan reached forward and picked up a pitcher of ale, filling both their mugs. "Then none would need disturb you for much of the day."

Kenric turned and eyed Fitz Alan a long, silent moment as the meaning of his words sank into his dazed senses. His wife was making him daft, lowering him to the point of acting like a smitten squire in front of his men. "Am I that obvious?"

"Aye," Fitz Alan replied genially. "That you are, milord."

Kenric scowled. "She is a distraction. She occupies my thoughts far too often."

" 'Tis not exactly a curse to have a beautiful wife," Fitz Alan pointed out. "Many a man would cherish a lady such as yours."

"I will not care for her," Kenric said quietly. "You know as well as I the dangers that involves. The Welsh baron... Welton was his name. You remember how we used his wife against him?"

Fitz Alan's expression hardened, Kenric's meaning clear. A man with enemies did not need a weapon that could be used against him. Lady Tess would be safer if the baron's enemies believed she held no special place in his affections.

" 'Tis likely no more than an infatuation," Fitz Alan predicted.

"Aye, one that needs end soon. I intend to keep her in my bed till I've had my fill of her charms. The attraction always wears off," he added confidently, tossing down a healthy portion of ale. "Ofttimes after a night or two, I have trouble remembering why I found a wench comely in the first place."

Fitz Alan nodded. "You wish me to oversee the training on the morrow?"

Kenric gladly put the subject of his wife behind them. Yet he couldn't deny the haste with which he gave Fitz Alan his orders, or his antic.i.p.ation of the night ahead.

10.

Sometimes a man had to set his worries aside and simply enjoy the moment. An unusual piece of logic for a man who filled his days with rigid discipline. But Kenric decided to set aside an entire day of duties and responsibilities in favor of his wife's company. He might as well. The day was already half spent and they were still abed, Tess draped across his chest like a warm blanket.

His mighty vow to regain his self-control when he made love to Tess had proved impossible. He would begin her seduction with the right intentions and they would last all of two minutes. A touch, her scent, the softness of her hair brushing against his chest, her eyes changing color as desire took hold. Kenric had lost track of what sent him over the edge. There was no one thing he could watch for or guard against. He wanted to blame Tess for whatever it was that made him senseless with l.u.s.t until he lay sated in her arms, cursing his traitorous body. Yet she gazed up at him with such innocent confusion that he could do no more than frown over the power she held unknowingly. He knew she still wondered about his moods, yet she said nothing. Let her worry, he thought with some satisfaction. He'd certainly done his share.

The cure would work eventually, he told himself optimistically. None would think it strange that a newly married man spent an entire day with his bride. He'd never spent more than two full days with a woman before he grew heartily sick of her. He would tire of her chatter, or grow bored with her silence. Her beauty would fade until he saw only her flaws. He would sate himself to the point that a Roman orgy could not rouse his interest. Aye, everything would work itself out, so this worrying was pointless. He was simply acting like a child with a new toy, fascinated for the moment. It wouldn't be long before she ceased to amuse him, to capture his attention so thoroughly. Why not enjoy her while it lasted?

Kenric let his gaze travel across the room, looking for a distraction. He smiled when he spied an overturned bucket near the tub. Last night he'd returned to his chamber to find a hot bath and warm wife awaiting his pleasure. The memory of her wet, soapy hands moving across his body made him arch his hips against Tess, one arm around her waist to keep her in place. Aye, he'd taught her to bathe a man a bit too well.

"Mm," Tess sighed. Her eyes fluttered open to reveal sleepy, satisfied pools of violet and she stretched lazily against him. "Good morning."

" 'Tis afternoon, wench. You sleep more than any creature I have ever known."

" 'Tis not my usual habit," she admitted. Her smile became mischievous and her hips wriggled seductively. "But I do feel much rested."

Kenric gripped her hips to stop her game, grimacing. "I have unleashed a wanton."

"Are you sorry?" she asked innocently, continuing to move against him in ways that could never be called innocent.

"Perhaps. Stop that," Kenric growled. Tess rubbed against his chest once more before obeying the order. "You may not need sleep, but you do need rest."

"Hah," she scoffed, her grin still teasing. "My husband is obviously exhausted by his wife's..."

Tess paused to search for just the right word. Her eyes rolled up toward the ceiling, as if she would find the answer there.

"Enthusiasm?" Kenric suggested blandly.

"Aye. Enthusiasm." Tess nodded. "Perhaps a nice nap would do you some good as well, husband?"

"Your words ring false to me, wife. 'Tis not I who will be unable to walk the rest of this day." He stroked the back of her legs, still spread wide across his hips. "I vow you will barely be able to stand now."

Tess's smile faded when she tried to shift one leg and her muscles refused to respond. Kenric a.s.sisted the effort, but her moans erased his smile as well.

"You should not have slept that way." His voice echoed concern, but it was also tinged with perverse male pride. He whispered seductively in her ear. "At least, not until you become accustomed to the position."

Tess smiled at the wicked suggestion despite her aches and began to inch her knees up. There was no sin in enjoying her husband, she told herself reasonably, pushing aside the thought that he would not be her husband for very long. At the moment, they were no different than any other married couple. "I will look forward to the practice, milord."

"No more," Kenric groaned, his fingers digging into her hips to hold them still. "You will be the death of me yet."

"Surely you cannot die from this," Tess murmured, her voice teasing. She struggled some to sit up, still straddled across Kenric's hips, and began running her fingers through the soft mat of hair covering his chest. There was no part of him that failed to fascinate her. This plan to act the perfect wife was rewarding in ways she hadn't imagined, the role played so effortlessly that she wondered already how much of it was an act. She smiled triumphantly over the expression on his face when she shifted her hips again. "I was just getting comfortable."

"Do not get too comfortable, little cat." Kenric caught a few stray locks of her hair and arranged the silky tresses around her shoulders. "Else I'll change my mind about taking you on a tour of the castle."

"A tour?" Tess asked, delighted by the possibility. She couldn't believe he would accommodate her plans so thoroughly. "Really?"

"Really," Kenric chuckled.

"I cannot wait! Can we leave now? Will you show me everything?"

"Aye, everything," he a.s.sured her. "Best be careful, sweet, or your enthusiasm will injure my feelings. Not a moment ago, you seemed in no hurry to leave my bed."

A soft smile curved Tess's lips and her manner became seductive once more. "Do you wish it, I will not leave your bed all day, milord."

"You are a liar, wife." Kenric's rakish smile faded as he lifted her from his hips, his eyes lingering intimately on her body. His voice was edged with roughness when he ordered her to get dressed.

Tess rolled from the bed then took a moment to rub mobility back into her legs. She quickly sponged herself off then rummaged haphazardly through her clothes, the prospect of touring the castle with her husband hastening her steps.

Tess was dressed in little time but her hair slowed her progress to an annoying degree. She was amazed when Kenric lifted the brush from her hands and began to gently work the tangles from the long tresses. The odd expression on his face made her wonder over his actions.

"You don't mind brushing my hair?" she asked softly. Only a lady or her maid should be bothered with such tasks. It hadn't occurred to her that a man would demean himself with such a duty.

"I love the feel of your hair," he answered, allowing several strands to spill from his hands. " 'Tis like spun gold, Tess. It reminds me of the story of the old miser who loves to run his hands through piles of gold coins, though I know they could not feel so silky."

Tess smiled over the fanciful words, surprised by this unexpected side of his personality. Butcher, indeed, she scoffed to herself. How different her husband was from the man of tales.

Think of Remmington, Tess told herself firmly, knowing she was softening again. It didn't matter if Kenric had a gentle side. He was still a warrior intent on putting her lands to the sword. Only an idiot would allow herself to be fooled by her own act. Kenric's next words only strengthened her resolve.

"Come, Tess," he said gruffly, extending one hand. "You have tarried long enough. I have no wish to waste the entire day in this chamber."

Three hours later they were high atop the battlements overlooking the inner courtyards of the castle. The view from such a height was breathtaking, but Tess had eyes only for the outbuildings and structures within the fortress walls, memorizing the information Kenric shared about each part of Montague. He'd shown her the major rooms of the castle and the defenses of Montague, but hadn't taken her to the places she wanted to see most. To play the part of mistress, she would need to know the workings of the kitchens, tannery, smith, and all other places with activities vital to the daily operations of the castle. Knowing those tasks held little interest for a man such as Kenric, she decided to wait and ask Miriam for the tour she really needed. She would a.s.sume her duties soon enough, but she wanted this time with Kenric too much to risk chasing him off.

A message from Fitz Alan disrupted the couple anyway and Kenric departed with Simon, promising to return soon. Tess leaned over the battlement walls and gazed out over the charred landscape, glad of a few minutes alone to absorb everything she'd seen of the castle. The plans to make sweeping changes at Montague were pushed aside hours ago, due mostly to the att.i.tude of Montague's servants. They were an obedient bunch, she would give them that much. But their insolence was a barely veiled mask on every face. With the example Helen set as their mistress, she should have expected as much. She just didn't expect Kenric to be so tolerant of that behavior.

Tess propped her arms atop the cold stone wall and rested her chin on her folded hands, watching the flash of steel as Kenric's men practiced on the training grounds below. The att.i.tude of the servants was worrisome, but Kenric's soldiers were another matter entirely. All activity on the training grounds had ceased when she and Kenric arrived for an inspection. The men watted in respectful silence for Kenric to address them then they greeted her politely. Aye, Kenric tolerated nothing short of absolute obedience from his men. A simple frown at a knight he thought a bit too eager to impress her sent the man into a fit of stammered apologies.

How the MacLeiths would laugh if Tess asked for the same measure of respect from Gordon and his men. The MacLeiths insulted her openly. At least they had respected Dunmore's order to keep their distance from Tess. It was the one show of kindness, albeit a selfish one, that Tess could thank him for. Dunmore simply didn't want her producing a b.a.s.t.a.r.d before she could be married off to Gordon and present a legal heir. Hah. As if Gordon were capable of such a feat! Kenric, on the other hand, was more than capable of getting an heir on her. At the rate they were going, it wouldn't be long before she found herself with child. So many problems, she thought with a soft sigh. So many decisions she didn't want to make.

Kenric stood silently in the tower doorway, captivated for the moment by the picture Tess presented as she gazed over the battlement walls. With her chin resting on her hands, her face was profiled perfectly against the cloudless blue sky, the breeze occasionally ruffling the cloak of sunshine that was her hair. Beautiful, yet sad. She looked no happier to be within Montague's walls than he was.

No, she'd not annoyed him with hollow flattery of his home. She'd walked silently by his side as he showed her the fortress, her brows often drawn together in a frown, asking few questions. He'd had a ridiculous urge to haul her back to their chamber then search Helen out and order her to make their home presentable. But, no, he would do nothing to make anyone believe he had any pride in Montague, that it represented anything more to him than a worthless, unwanted mess. Instead he'd taken Tess to the training grounds to show her the one thing in his life he did take pride in; his army.

He'd expected her to be appalled. Gentle ladies had little appreciation or interest in the workings of an army. The women he'd known at court would be insulted if he exposed their delicate sensibilities to the coa.r.s.eness of the training grounds, deeply offended if he thought to introduce them to the common soldiers there. Tess had greeted his men warmly, conversed with the sweaty soldiers as if they were finely dressed courtiers.

His men had acted like idiots. He'd been so concerned with his wife's reaction to his soldiers that he hadn't considered his soldiers' reaction to his wife. Some simply stared slack-jawed while others did all but juggle their swords to impress her. The effect one slight woman had on the brawny, battle-hardened soldiers would have been laughable if the woman had been any but Tess. Kenric knew that, knew also that he'd approached a state of possessive jealousy when he'd snapped at any man who succeeded in capturing her attention for more than a moment or two. He'd left his soldiers much quicker than he intended, suddenly in no mood to share his new toy.

She'd started smiling again after they left the training grounds, as if that had been the most pleasant part of their tour. For some reason, Kenric found himself absurdly pleased by those smiles. Yet now she looked near tears. Given her behavior so far that day, she was probably recalling some amusing jest. Her moods were impossible to outguess. She frowned over a home any woman would appreciate despite its filth, and smiled over an army that had terrorized half the civilized world.

Turning fanciful for the moment, Kenric imagined Tess standing here alone, awaiting his return from some war or battle, her heart burdened by the worry that he wouldn't. That was a pleasant fantasy, the thought that a woman as beautiful as Tess would pine for him. Being tied for life to the Butcher of Wales would be enough to make any woman cry. Most likely she was indulging in a bit of self-pity, feeling sorry for herself because she was trapped in this h.e.l.lish place as surely as he was. Would she admit as much?

"What are you thinking?"

Tess was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't hear Kenric's return. His quiet words startled her.

"That you should not creep up on people," she chastised, smiling to soften the admonishment. Kenric shrugged and turned his attention to the view beyond the walls. Though he didn't move, Tess felt as if he'd suddenly stepped away from her, placed a wall between them as solid as the one she leaned against. "You finished your business with Fitz Alan?"

"A minor matter. You still haven't answered my question. Why the serious expression on such a fine day?"

Tess thought about lying for a moment then decided the truth could do no harm.

"Less than two fortnights have pa.s.sed since I believed myself destined to be Gordon MacLeith's bride. I was thinking how different my life would have been with Gordon." She tilted her head back, her gaze uncertain as she looked into his eyes. "I would tell you the reason he last beat me."

"I know already." Kenric gave her a roguish smile. "You told me when you were fevered."

"What did I tell you.?" Tess asked in a worried tone.

"That you called Gordon a catamite."

" 'Tis true," Tess whispered. "He came to my chamber after he beat me and sent everyone from the room. I thought he meant to murder me, but he was there only to revile me with threats. He said I disgusted him and promised to give me to his men once we were married. They were all MacLeiths, he said, so it wouldn't matter where my bairn came from as long as I produced a child. He made other promises, but they are... they are obscene, vile beyond repeating."

Kenric moved closer and cupped her face between his hands. "I cannot take away the pain of your past, but I can guarantee that you will never have to fear Gordon or his father, ever again. You are mine now, Tess, and I protect what is mine."

A wave of tenderness swept over her, so sweet and fierce that it finally succeeded in bringing the hidden tears to her eyes. She moved into his arms and laid her cheek against his soft fur cloak. He was telling her the truth. In her heart, Tess knew he would protect her with his life. And she intended to repay him by running away. Guilt, Tess decided, was the most unpleasant of emotions. Her decision would be so much easier to live with if only Kenric were cruel, a man no better than the MacLeiths. He deserved more than a bride who would pretend to be his wife, then leave him at the first opportunity.

"The MacLeiths are jackals, not to be trusted," she said hesitantly, deciding he should be warned in case he ever did face her stepfather. "Do not expect a fair fight if you face those traitors."

"You, ah, told me that as well when you were ill."

"It seems I was very talkative," Tess said guardedly. "What else did I tell you?"

"What else?" he repeated, reaching over her head to scratch his chin. "Well, let me see. There is probably very little you did not tell me. At least, very little of importance. You do tend to babble, wife."

She frowned at his wolfish grin. " 'Twas rude of you to listen to such ravings."

"You like my eyes."

"I talked about you?" Tess was horrified by the thought. Almost anything she said about Kenric would be humiliating. His next words proved that thought correct.

"I remind you of a knight you dreamed of the sennight before we wed."

"Oh, G.o.d," Tess groaned. She recovered quickly and tried to school her features into an expression of disbelief. "You see? I was obviously talking nonsense. You must put little stock in the truth of anything I said while I was ill."

Kenric nodded, but his expression said he didn't believe a word of that. Thankfully, he changed the subject. " 'Tis near time for dinner. Would you like to continue this discussion in our chamber? We can take our meal there."

Much to Tess's dismay, Kenric was as good as his word. He told her the events of her illness in great detail. Tess denied everything, scowling when Kenric laughed aloud at her ridiculous objections. But his laughter disappeared when Tess asked about his life before they met. He claimed there was little to tell. Tess took her turn laughing at that bold lie. She kept after him until he finally relented, telling her fascinating tales about the lands of the Crusades.

Tess didn't remember falling asleep in her chair, or being carried to the bed a short time later. When she woke up during the night, Kenric was lying next to her, his head propped up on one elbow. The glowing embers shadowed his expression, but she was sure he was watching her as he rubbed her arm in a soothing motion. She couldn't quite recall his reply when she sleepily asked if anything was wrong. She thought she heard him say he wasn't sure. That answer was odd enough to convince her that she'd dreamed the whole thing.

The days that followed fell into a comfortable routine. Kenric rose early to train with his men or to ride out on patrol. Tess kept busy exploring the castle. He joined her occasionally in the hall for the midday meal, but often as not, his time there was spent with the bailiff or steward, or any number of his men with problems to be solved. Evening meals went much the same, though Kenric never tarried afterward and neither Kenric nor Tess actually ate in the great hall. Each waited until they reached their chamber to share a meal and conversation.

" 'Tis no wonder you've managed to lure me here for meals," Kenric remarked one night, eyeing a spoonful of thick stew. Though their meal was simple, it was considerably better fare than that served in the great hall. "How do you manage to find such good food in this place?"

"I am tempted to take the credit," Tess replied with a smile, pleased that her plan to appear the perfect wife was progressing so nicely. "But 'tis Miriam who arranges our meals each evening."

"You will thank her for me." He took a bite of the stew, then washed it down with a gulp of cider and reached for a loaf of fresh bread.

"I have thanked her often, but she acts nervous and brushes the compliments aside. If I didn't know better, I would say she is afraid someone will find out what she is doing."

Helen was the someone Miriam feared. The servant had as much as told Tess that Helen would see an end to their fine fare if she found out that Miriam was being so accommodating. She'd wanted to ask Kenric about Helen's obvious hatred ever since they arrived at Montague.

"I saw your sister in the solar today," she began. "Is it your mother or your father that you both resemble so closely?"

Kenric looked up slowly from his trencher and the cold blast of his gaze made Tess swallow nervously. What on earth had she said to stir up that much anger?

"My family is none of your concern."

"Why not?" she asked defiantly. "Whenever I ask Helen about your family, she says I must ask you. Whenever I ask you, the subject is conveniently changed or I am told it is none of my concern. Am I so unworthy of the Montague name that I am to be told nothing to help me find my place within it?"

The anger faded from Kenric's eyes until he looked little more than annoyed. The soft tone of his voice was surprising. " 'Tis the Montague name that is unworthy of you, Tess. You are curious and that is natural, but I do not discuss my family with anyone. Perhaps I will tell you more after I take Remmington, but that will not happen anytime soon unless you can tell me what you know of her defenses. 'Tis said Remmington is impregnable, which means a lengthy siege is likely in order. Are there any boltholes under the walls?"