Montague - The Warlord Part 8

"Then imagine my delight when I found my wife, only to have her aim an arrow at my chest. Compared to that, wondering for five days if she would live or die was only slightly more pleasant."

"Oh, nooo..." The moan was long and drawn out. Tess kept her hands over her face, but she began to rock slightly.

"I a.s.sume that means you have recalled your idiocy. Are there any details that need clarifying? Any small points you cannot recall clearly? Do let me know, wife. I will be happy to recount your every deed."

"I cannot remember my illness," Tess said helplessly, trying to piece the puzzle together. "What came before, aye, but nothing after we left the woods."

"You became a raving lunatic," he answered in an almost bored tone. "The very first day you took one look at Old Martha, the healing woman I'd sent to tend you, and flattened the woman with your fist."

"Nay!"

"Aye. The servants thought you possessed by demons. You do realize that most believe hot coals laid against the skin is the only way to exorcise demons?"

Tess paled and shook her head.

"Rather than allow my terrified servants to tend a woman they clearly thought crazed, I took over the duty myself. You should be well pleased with yourself, Lady. Many would be impressed to learn that you turned the Butcher of Wales into little more than a sickmaid."

"I-I find this very difficult to believe," Tess whispered, her mind still unable to accept everything he'd told her.

"The night we married, I would have said the same," Kenric replied evenly. "Yet since our marriage, you've slit a man's throat, betrayed me, and put me to more trouble than any female on the face of the earth. If you were trying to make me regret this marriage, you have succeeded. I should have taken you to a convent when I had the chance."

"Aye, you should have," she answered softly. "In a convent I would never know the burden of taking another man's life, or risking my own to flee what I thought was certain death. And whispering during vespers is surely the most trouble I would have been like to cause."

The wintry expression that settled over his features made Tess regret her rash outburst. She knew before he spoke that she should have remained silent.

"Do not twist my words, Tess. Your small attempt to stir my pity is pointless. It tells me that you are trying to shift the blame for your actions rather than accept responsibility. And accept it you shall. Aye, wife. 'Tis time for the reckoning. By your own misdeeds, you have lost any rights to husbandly consideration. I will judge you today as your lord. Stand before me, Tess."

The cool finality of his words struck terror in her heart. Tess stared at him in silence, paralyzed by fear, trying desperately to think of some argument in her defense. She had betrayed him. She would be punished the same as any other traitor. The punishments that came to mind made her thoughts spin dizzily.

Although she tried to comply with his order, fear combined with her lengthy illness made obedience impossible. She managed to get her legs over the side of the bed, but her knees gave out and she crumpled to the floor. Humiliated by her defeat and terrified by her helplessness, she remained there. Waiting.

"Stand before me," he repeated, his voice lacking any trace of compa.s.sion.

She shook her head and whispered, "I cannot."

The silence lasted so long that Tess felt the sweat on her palms grow cold and clammy. Then her hands began to tremble.

"So, you are unfit to receive your punishment," he said finally. "Just as you are unfit to be my wife anytime soon."

Tess felt herself nod. Her chemise was tangled about her legs and one sleeve had slipped low on her shoulder, but she was too numb to care about something so trivial as her modesty. Her worst fears were coming true. She'd tried to escape the Butcher, and she'd been caught. And just like the MacLeiths, he wanted her alive. Yet the fact that they all had an interest in her life didn't make the living of it any easier. She would be made to pay for her deceit, and pay dearly.

Tess closed her eyes, beyond tears or crying, beyond pleas for mercy. She'd known the consequences and could do nothing now but accept them. There was no compa.s.sion in the man she'd lain with so intimately this morning, no tenderness or feelings for her that would temper his judgment. He'd made it clear that he disliked her intensely. She had plenty of experience with men who hated her.

Kenric grasped her arms and hauled her to her feet, intending to vent more of his anger. He had known all along that she was too weak to stand before him. He'd given the order simply to prove a point. Making that point was the only thing he was likely to find satisfying for quite some time. From the deathly white pallor of her face, he guessed what was happening a moment before her eyes rolled back and she went limp in his arms.

"I will be gone exactly seven days. She will not leave this room for any reason while I am away. Is that clear?"

The sound of Kenric's deep voice stirred Tess from her sleep, but she opened her eyes only a crack and didn't stir from her coc.o.o.n of blankets. From beneath her lashes, she spied two soldiers near the doorway. Both nodded and echoed, "Aye, milord."

"That goes for you as well," Kenric added, turning toward a woman who stood near the bed. "If she talks any one of you into disobeying my order, I will see all three of you in the dungeon. Miriam, you will see that she heals as quickly as possible. I want her healthy when I return. Completely healthy."

"Aye, milord," Miriam answered.

"Other than Old Martha, she is to have no visitors. Tell my wife she is to do nothing that might jeopardize her health and that she should use this time to prepare herself to greet me properly upon my return."

Tess closed her eyes, afraid someone would sense her fear if she kept them open. She had seven days to prepare for his punishment.

After he left, Tess tormented herself by trying to imagine what horrible punishment she would receive. Then she tried to cheer herself up with thoughts of what it might not be. If Kenric had spoken truthfully that day in the woods, he did not intend to return her to the MacLeiths. That would have been the worst punishment she could imagine. He also said he wouldn't beat her, but she didn't put any stock in those words. Not now. He'd given her a promise, and she'd betrayed him. She had no right to expect him to keep any promise.

She didn't realize she'd sighed aloud until Miriam looked up from her sewing. The two guards had left with Kenric, but the servant remained.

"You are awake, milady?" Miriam asked needlessly. Tess nodded glumly. "My name is Miriam, milady. The baron left on a journey not long ago. He will be-"

"I heard his every word. You've no need to repeat them."

Miriam bowed her head, making Tess feel guilty about the curt answer. It wasn't Miriam's fault that she'd been ordered to guard her baroness. The servant had a friendly face, kindly blue eyes, and soft waves of gray hair that gave her a motherly air. The quality of her fawn-colored gown said she held a position of some importance at Montague, probably that of lady's maid to Helen. Tess tried a more congenial tone. "It seems we are to be companions for a time, Miriam."

"Aye, milady."

A long, uncomfortable silence pa.s.sed between the two women. Tess gazed steadily at the servant, trying to guess her loyalty to Kenric, wondering if she might be bribed while trying to think of something to bribe her with. Even if the servant could be persuaded to her camp, there were two of Kenric's guards just outside the door, the same two who had rushed into the room the night Kenric discovered her injuries. That meant they were probably two of Kenric's most trusted soldiers. She would never make it past the door. Miriam's gaze finally dropped to her lap and she resumed her sewing.

"I would like you to tell me everything you know about Montague Castle," Tess said abruptly. The servant looked up warily from her work.

"Mistress Helen does not allow gossip about the family, milady."

It was telling that Miriam's concern was with Helen, not Kenric, but Tess had to dismiss that oddity for the moment.

"I am not asking you to gossip about the family," Tess said. "I am your baroness, Miriam. I have a right to know about those who live here. You may begin by telling me the names of those who hold positions of importance within the castle, the duties of the servants, and any trades or craftsmen living within the walls or in the village."

"Milady! There are well over three hundred living within the walls, and as many in the village."

"Then we may need to review the list twice, to make sure I forget none."

Miriam's list took two days to recite, even though Tess didn't ask the woman to repeat the names as she'd threatened. Much to Tess's delight, Miriam was a natural gossip and couldn't help but interject opinions and hearsay with the facts. One thing she learned was that Kenric refused to involve himself with anything related to running the castle. He made sure of the castle's defenses, but it was Helen's duty to oversee the daily operations of the place. As near as Tess could tell, Helen had performed her duties quite adequately until Kenric's return from Wales. She'd done little or nothing since then. And time was measured strangely at Montague. Anything of importance happened either Before the Old Baron Died, or After the Old Baron Died. After would have been when Kenric a.s.sumed the t.i.tle. That seemed to be when things at Montague began to decline, and Tess sensed an undercurrent of resentment against her husband because of it. So much the better, she decided, even as she pushed aside the nagging thought that Kenric was being judged unfairly by his people. Not that they had any right to judge him in the first place.

Old Martha, the woman Tess had unknowingly attacked in her fever, also paid a visit and proved a most forgiving sort. Especially after Tess promised to ask Kenric about finding an a.s.sistant for the spry old woman. She needed someone to help gather herbs on her trips into the woods and Tess secretly hoped to be that a.s.sistant. A trip outside the walls to gather herbs might present another opportunity for escape. Although her first attempt was a dismal failure, she still hadn't given up her plan to reach the king. It just might take longer, now that she'd put Kenric on his guard.

After only three days, she was pacing the room like a caged animal. The gradual return of her health had resulted in a full-blown case of boredom, interrupted only by her dread of what would happen when that boredom came to an end.

Although Miriam tried her best to be good company, the forced confinement made Tess more restless than ever. Knowing she was not the most pleasant person to be around in this frame of mind, Tess took pity on the maid and gave Miriam permission to return to most of her usual duties.

Robbed of Miriam's company, Tess had only the distraction of exploring Kenric's plush room. The handsomely carved trunks that lined the walls of the room were locked tight against prying fingers, frustrating her to no end. Only the trunk cleared for her use and Kenric's clothes chest could be opened. But a discovery at the bottom of Kenric's chest eased her confinement considerably.

Kenric owned three books.

Tess was amazed to find books, of all things, kept in an unlocked chest. If such priceless treasures were so easily accessible, then the riches kept under lock and key must be fabulous, indeed. The king himself possessed only four books, and everyone knew those were locked away in the royal treasury. She began to wonder at the extent of Kenric's wealth.

She handled the precious objects with great care. Though no one could possibly see her, Tess looked around guiltily before opening the first finely tooled, leather-bound cover. Few men outside the priesthood could read, and the skill was unheard of in a woman. Friar Bennet had indulged Tess's thirst for knowledge shamelessly. Kenric would probably be scandalized if her unusual skills were discovered. At the moment, Tess was too excited about the unexpected entertainment to care.

The first book was in Latin, an introductory page explaining its translation from a group of Greek stories collectively named Aesop's Fables. The first letter of each page took up nearly a fourth of the s.p.a.ce, drawn in beautifully vivid colors. The characters described in the story were artfully intertwined with the letter to depict their actions on that page. One almost didn't need the ability to read with such delightful drawings to accompany the text. Tess curled up in the center of Kenric's big bed and began to turn the pages. The sunlight stretched across the room with amazing speed, quickly slanting to long golden streamers of light. Miriam was at her door all too soon with her meal, driving Tess mad with her endless chatter. The riveting tale of a vain fox awaited Tess, half read under the pillow. An hour pa.s.sed before the woman could be politely dismissed. That Miriam remained so long with the good intentions of relieving the boredom made Tess feel slightly guilty, but even Miriam's gossipy tales could not compare with Aesop's. By the end of the week, Tess had read Aesop's Fables four times, and the two dull books on military strategies twice.

Only one more night, she reminded herself for the hundredth time as she settled into bed for the evening. Kenric would return the next day and her confinement would be at a blessed end. She was almost ready to face the gallows if it meant leaving this room at last. She'd never liked being locked away in her room when the MacLeiths did it, but at least she'd known her punishment would be finished when her time was over. Being locked away to await a punishment was crueler yet.

If nothing else, her disastrous escape was proving that she'd been right to try in the first place. Everything she'd learned that week told her that she'd married a man no more fair or just than the MacLeiths, one who would exact his vengeance just as thoroughly. Still, she needed to regain a measure of his confidence if she ever hoped to leave this castle. Any thoughts of begging his forgiveness were immediately dismissed. She'd never been able to play that role very convincingly. But perhaps he would appreciate an apology. That might make him believe she was sorry enough to obey him in the future. It certainly couldn't hurt matters.

The candle on the bedside table finally flickered and died in a puddle of tallow, telling her the hour had grown late. She left the bed long enough to roll more logs into the fire, then curled up in the big bed and practiced her apology in quiet whispers. It was something to do other than dread her husband's return.

8.

Another hour pa.s.sed before Kenric entered the gates of Montague, surprising everyone with his early return, including himself. Returning early was a mistake, he decided. Tess would probably think he couldn't wait another day to see her. He went immediately to his chamber, intent on making sure his bride was where she was supposed to be. At least, that was the excuse he gave Fitz Alan. He didn't realize how anxious he was until he opened the door to his chamber and sighed in relief. Tess was fast asleep in his bed.

She'd kicked the covers off and her chemise was pushed up high on her hips to reveal long, shapely legs. The light from the fire cast a warm glow to her skin and made her hair shimmer with a golden fire all its own. This was the vision, the sight of her in his bed, that had enticed him from the moment he'd laid eyes on the woman. Well, almost, he decided with a frown. Her mouth should be curved with the satisfied smile of a wife well bedded.

A grim smile touched his lips and he almost laughed at his own fantasy. How could he believe that a woman who flinched from his most innocent touch would enjoy herself in his bed? Rather than mooning about smiles he would never see, he should be wondering if she would come to him willingly, or if he would have to take her as he took everything else in life. By force.

Kenric shook himself from his musings long enough to slam the door shut behind him, purposely waking his bride. He had no intention of allowing her to sleep through this night.

"I thought you would be asleep by now," he lied, keeping his expression stern when a pair of sleepy eyes widened with recognition.

"Kenric!" The careful speech Tess had planned flew out of her head the moment she spied him. She'd forgotten the strange effect his presence had on her senses, something she could never quite antic.i.p.ate, much less prevent. Her eyes drank in the sight of him, and she felt the same flood of confusing emotions that had a.s.sailed her that first night in the abbey. Fear, desire, and an overwhelming sense of familiarity, the disturbing feeling that she knew him better than any other.

He still wore his armor, his helm tucked under one arm, his other hand resting on the hilt of his broadsword. Her eyes drifted across what seemed to be acres of chain mail, idly wondering what vast amount of yardage was required to fashion his surcoat. Most men looked stiff and unwieldy in armor, the effort required to carry so much extra weight telling in their stilted movements. Kenric wore at least a hundred pounds of weapons and armor, yet moved as if he were clad in nothing more c.u.mbersome than silk. In fact, it was his garments that seemed to strain under the effort of keeping so much strength contained.

The large room was suddenly smaller, yet Tess knew it was not only his big body, but his very presence that filled so much of the chamber.

"Come, wife. Help remove my armor," he ordered, already unbuckling his swords.

He released the breath he'd been holding when she drew back the covers and rose from the bed, walking toward him. She was as beautiful as he'd remembered, more so now that her health had returned. The thin chemise she wore left little to his imagination, and he turned away before he gave in to the urge to crush her against his chest, to tear away that dainty garment and feast his eyes on what belonged to him alone.

No, he would not take what was his just yet, not until he knew if it would be offered. That would make the taking all the more sweet, well worth the wait. Best not hold your breath, his conscience warned. Better to prepare yourself for tears and pleading.

With his back to her, Kenric placed his helmet on a clothes chest, then ordered her to unfasten his leggings while he worked on removing his hauberk. Her touch was disturbingly gentle, nothing like the efficiency he was accustomed to. She didn't work as quickly as his squire, for she had to search for the hidden buckles. Kenric ignored the feelings her hands roused, concentrating instead on the fastenings of his hauberk.

"Did you have a good journey?" she asked.

"Aye." An excellent journey, Kenric mused, placing the ma.s.s of chain mail in a chest. Just what he needed to regain his rigid control. He would prove to her that she'd married a man, not some wild beast driven to ravage her. "You may await me in bed, Tess."

Kenric had removed his armor with care, but his tunic, shirt, and breeches were shed with abandon as his mind raced forward to the moment when he would climb into bed with his bride. He hesitated for just a moment, then decided his loincloth should stay. Even though he usually slept in the nude, he didn't want to make his intent too obvious. But the loincloth was hardly sufficient to protect him from his wife's a.s.sessing gaze.

When he turned to face her, it took less than a heartbeat for the look in her violet eyes to turn his bones to jelly, his flesh to tempered steel. Her gaze traveled boldly over every bit of exposed flesh, and his skin soon burned to feel her hands travel those same paths. His breath came out in a rush when her attention finally returned to his face.

His eyes never left Tess as he walked toward her. He stretched out on top of her on the bed, his hands braced on either side of her head. "Have you no kiss to welcome your husband home?"

Her eyes widened with uncertainty even as she nodded. Kenric lowered his head, savoring the warmth of her breath against his lips, then he covered her mouth completely. He lingered over the kiss, nipping and tugging almost playfully at Tess's lips before his mouth settled firmly against hers. He was pleased to discover she'd not forgotten his first lesson in kissing. He finally moved to the smooth column of her neck. He was hungry for her, as if he'd been without a woman for years. She would be his wife, his willing wife, he decided with a dark, hidden smile. His hands slid across her shoulders and down her arms, then up to her shoulders again to repeat the motion, as if to a.s.sure himself that she wasn't going anywhere. His hand wrapped around her wrist and he stretched out her arm, leaning over to kiss the throbbing pulse at her wrist. His lips grazed a path to the soft skin at the crook of her elbow, lingering there to savor the spot.

"I would like to-"

"You would like to become my wife."

"I am already your wife," she reminded him, tilting her head slightly to bare her neck as his lips skimmed over the capped sleeves of her chemise.

"You are my bride," he murmured, kissing the outline of her ear. His warm breath made Tess's own breath grow short. "But that will change soon enough, little one."

"I meant... I meant to say-" Tess gave up when she felt Kenric's tongue against her ear. Her whole body stiffened and there was nothing soft or sighing about the groan she gave him then.

"That you like what I'm doing," Kenric finished again.

"Aye," she whispered, curling her toes when she felt his tongue once more. He lingered there a moment, then used his mouth to trace the line of her jaw, moving higher until his lips were just touching hers.

He drew back abruptly and his gaze searched her face, as if looking for the answer to some question. "I want to see your back."

" 'Tis healed." The injuries to her back were the least of her concerns at the moment. Her skin tingled so much that she felt nearly numb. She felt light-headed but not at all ill, and her heart ached but it didn't hurt. The feeling was a warmth that seemed to spread through every part of her body, a strange sensation that made her want to arch up against Kenric's body. Her arms slipped around his neck, pulling him without resistance to her lips.

Kenric ended the kiss by rolling to Tess's side, determined to see her back before he was too far gone with l.u.s.t to care what his pa.s.sion would do to her. His desire was ready to burst into flame, but he knew this first time was too important to let the fire burn out of control, to burn her carelessly beyond healing. He would treat her gently, show her his patience and skill by fanning the flames of her own desire slowly and carefully. But not until he knew how much her injured body could handle.

"Show me your back," he demanded simply. She blushed and lowered her gaze. He nudged her chin up, trying to show her that patience he'd silently promised. " 'Tis only natural to be shy about letting me see your body. Yet you must know I gazed upon you often while you were ill. I even bathed you."

She gasped. "You didn't."

"I did." He couldn't decide if Tess looked more outraged or humiliated, or an equal measure of both. He liked her shyness, but needed to think of a way to make her more at ease with this situation, a way that would demonstrate his patience. An idea came almost immediately. "If you'd prefer, I could wait until after my bath to look at your back."

" 'Tis rather late for a bath, is it not, milord?" she questioned uncertainly. "The servants are sure to be abed."

"The servants have not been in a saddle all day and most of the night," he scoffed, already moving away from her. "I doubt they shall suffer overmuch by heating water and filling a tub for a man who has. Don't you agree?"

He almost smiled over Tess's reaction to the reprieve. Her head bobbed in quick agreement. "The ride from Marshall seems to have stiffened my muscles," he lied. "A bath sounds like just the thing."

"An excellent idea, milord."

"I thought so." He smiled over his cleverness. With his own clothes shed, it wouldn't be long before Tess's followed. She would soon be as comfortable about his nudity as he was about her... Well, that wasn't quite it, but what better way to acquaint Tess with his body? Every inch of it.

Kenric walked briskly to the door and gave several orders to one of the soldiers standing guard in the hallway. He busied himself by shaving away several days' growth of beard as a small army of servants began arriving in a steady stream. Most lugged buckets of steaming water to fill the tub that was hauled into place before the fire, but one carried a tray of food. He picked up the tray when he'd finished shaving and placed it at the foot of the bed, taking a seat next to Tess.

"Hungry?" he asked. When she nodded, he handed her a thick slab of b.u.t.tered bread and a mug of thin ale.

"Do you always parade around your servants near naked?" Tess whispered. Her gaze dropped conspicuously to the loincloth he wore.

Kenric shrugged indifferently. "They do not seem to mind."

Tess's look said she did.

"You believe I should wear a robe?"