By Right of Arms (7 page)

She fearfully drew a new breath. “Would you have me, so recent a widow, prepare the hall and see the priest for a wedding, or will I be allowed some time for …”

“There is no need for further preparation,” Hyatt said flatly. “It is apparent you will judge me only as the conquering foe and refuse to see me as a man, flesh and blood, like any other. Neither will you show gratefulness that you are to be
wed
to protect your father’s hard-earned dowry and thus kept safe as is your right through marriage, when I could as easily turn you out for wandering armies to feast upon. If you will cleave only to your hatred and ignore your advantage in this proposal, then we shall not celebrate the event, and we shall have it done. We shall go now to the priest.”

“But …”

There was a sound behind her and she turned abruptly to see Sir Girvin change his posture, indicating his intention to enforce his lord’s decision by any means necessary.

Hyatt walked toward her and reached out to her. She eyed him cautiously and moved her slight and trembling hand into his. Her flesh was cold and clammy all over and she stood on shaky legs.

“I am not an ignorant woman. Only one who has suffered grave losses,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster. “You are not a patient man.”

His eyes warmed as he looked down at her, but his mouth remained stern. “You are wrong, Aurélie. I am more patient than most. But it is clear to me that you dislike my patience, for you test its limits. Had you but opened your mind to discussion, we might … But never mind. If you choose to see me only as harsh and wicked, certainly you shall.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and led her to the door.

For a moment she felt as mindless as a puppet, for her actions were not at all her own. He led, her feet moving by his order, her passage by his command. She knew her options to be death or agreement. He would own her by law, rule her by power, and violate her by a husband’s right. Even God would not come to her aid.

An odd shiver passed through her as she walked beside him. Never in her life had she been controlled by such power. She had been the only strength, but for her there had been no strong arm to lean upon. She judged her feelings to be born of the most wretched despair. But she could not place the genesis of the strange tightening of her stomach, the lightness of her head. When he momentarily released her arm, she felt peculiarly alone.

Her mind soared out of control.
When it is just we two,
she wondered,
and he has left his sword and shield, when his man does not stand ready at the door to beat me into submission, when he is as naked as God made him … will he prove to be a man … or a beast?

* * *

The hearth burned low in the lord’s chamber. The few remaining candles flickered as they died. A bright spring moon filtered through the window and cast a beam across the bed.

Aurélie stood before the hearth, distractedly watching Hyatt as he removed his tunic and laid it carefully away. The day had exhausted her will to resist him in any way. Father Algernon, though stunned and appalled, had blessed the reluctant union, with only her father and Sir Girvin present. The meal in the hall, served without any special flair or celebration, had taken long to pass. Aurélie was not sure whether anyone knew there had been a wedding. She had whispered the news to Perrine, who blanched white and covered her gasp with a shaking hand. It seemed as though Hyatt’s men were considerate with their jesting and drinking, but having spent little time in their company, she couldn’t be sure if they were more than usual.

As the moon began to rise, Hyatt bid Lord Lavergne a good night and led his bride to his bedchamber. She stood awaiting his command or demand, whichever might come.
Perhaps he will never know,
she thought.

With his tunic and chausses discarded, he presented an exquisite figure of a man. Even in fear and grief a woman would notice his magnificent, hard-muscled body. He was lithe and graceful when not clumping about in armor; his shoulders were broad and his arms thick and strong. She had never seen a man in any state of undress and found herself curiously staring at the thick mat of hair that covered Hyatt’s chest.

As he approached her, she steeled herself and closed her eyes. Her fate was sealed and she would be used. Silently she prayed that he would not hurt her too badly. She felt his hands on her hips and the softness of his beard on her neck.

“You make this difficult, Aurélie,” he breathed in her ear.

She stiffened in his arms. “Call your man,” she offered, the edge to her tone as sharp as a knife.

His seductive laughter filled the room. “Though he would be willing and all my men serve me quite well, there are some things a lord must do for himself.”

He tilted her chin and lowered his lips onto hers, catching her off guard with his gentleness. He moved over her mouth slowly, using tenderness to disarm her. Although thus far only his words had been brutal, she had not expected him to be kind; she had expected to be conquered. Yet he caressed and fondled, as lovers of her dreams had done.

She felt the veil drop from her hair even as his hand began to unloose the braid that adorned her head. His other hand pressed against the small of her back, forcing her against him. Her cheeks flamed; a fiery trembling possessed her. This was not the ruthless warrior of her nightmares. As if he felt her change, his lips demanded more. She would not let her slackened arms rise to him, but it took great effort.

He released her mouth and methodically began to undo the fastenings of her gown. She felt dizzy and knew that her body betrayed her. She gritted her teeth in shame and frustration, trying to remind herself that this man was the enemy, the murderer of innocents. Her mind taunted her—does he truly regret Giles? Dislike killing? Detest the ugliness of war? She tried to suppress such speculation. His feelings did not matter. He
had
killed … and captured her home. But the desire she had learned to suppress began to rise in her, causing her flesh to tingle from his touch.

She looked up at his bearded face above her. His eyes, black in the dimness of the room, glowed in passion. “You must not …” she heard herself whisper, though she knew it would be foolish to resist. He laughed softly, and the sound was cruel to her ears. He was forcing her spirit in lieu of her flesh and her agony worsened with every moment.

“Please,” she whispered. “Have your way quickly and be done with me.”

His eyes burned brighter and his smile was illuminated in the moonlight. “Nay,” he breathed. “I married you to protect your fortune and keep you safe from future ills. I would have better than thorns, Aurélie.”

“You wed me to work in this hall,” she countered.

His lips touched her brow. “Your labors will be handsomely rewarded, if you would but cease to wound me with your spiteful tongue.”

His hands deftly pulled the gown over her shoulders and it was instantly gathered around her feet. Her chemise quickly followed and before she could gasp at her sudden nakedness, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. Feeling his naked strength gently pressing her down, she opened her eyes wide, as if in wait for the worst. But he kissed her, caressed her, and murmured words he could not have meant, words spoken only between lovers.

His hands, gentle on her body, stirred her. His mouth, warm and moist and insistent, lured away her fears, and the demon desire ruthlessly possessed her. With a moan of despair, she allowed her arms to embrace him and she returned his kisses. Her breasts firmed eagerly under his hand and her body rose to his with a will of its own.

“Hyatt,” she breathed in a sob, “do not do this to me. Do your worst and be gone.”

“Our life need not be all pain,
chérie …”

“I beg you,” she cried. “Do not shame me so. Have done.”

His laughter was soft and mocking. “A husband’s right,” he murmured.

“Right of arms,” she answered him.

“Do I hurt you,
petite?
I would have better than your hatred … if only here … if only in my bed …”

She sobbed, but her mouth met his and her body strained toward him. She felt his hand gently part her legs and she despised his smooth experience. Better he should brutally force her than to throw her own weakness at her in this way. Her response gave lie to her earlier rejections.

Drifting, helpless in the wild sensations his touch brought, she contemplated the many women he must have loved. Thousands, she thought distractedly. He knew how to arouse, he knew the art of sweet torment. She knew nothing of this intimacy and could do naught but float in the rapture of his carnal skill. She longed for the end of this torture and felt it near as his gentle tempting was replaced with eagerness. His hands began to demand roughly, his body was hot with urgency as he entered her. She gasped as the pain, as sharp and searing as any dagger, flooded her womb and spread through her. Her eyes clouded with tears and she could barely see Hyatt’s face as he rose above her. He loomed over her, motionless and astonished. As her vision slowly cleared, she could see the shock in his eyes. She turned her face from him and quietly wept.

His fingers gently brushed her hair from her face. He carefully lowered himself, moving with great temperance, but the pain was no more and neither was the hunger. Aurélie’s struggle with shameful desire was gone, for his startled discovery left her listless. She neither aided nor discouraged him, but passively let him have his way.

It was a long while before he eased his weight from her, and she rolled onto her side. He did not completely release her, but curved his body around her back, raising himself on one elbow to look down at her profile. His hand casually toyed with her hair.

“You might have saved yourself much misery, had you told me.”

“What difference?” she flung. “Would it have delayed you?”

“Nay,” he said softly. “But there are certain remedies …”

She turned abruptly and looked at him. “You would not have believed me.”

He laughed a bit ruefully, shaking his head. “Even now I do not believe it.”

She rolled away from him again, this time trying to put some greater distance between their naked bodies. His hand was quick to find her hip and draw her back. “Aurélie,” he said, again the master of the smooth but commanding tone. “Whatever tragedy marks your past, you may bury it now along with your Giles. I share your secret,
chérie.
I don’t know what Giles was to you, but I know he was not a husband. You have one now, and I shall remain. You must not expect me to show great patience with your anger and hate.”

“I expect nothing,” she wept.

He gently nuzzled her neck. “In that event, my lovely Aurélie, you will be very surprised.”

Aurélie heard the reigning cock of the yard crow and warily opened her eyes. The curtains were yet drawn in the room and there was a suspicious absence of morning chill, but she lay alone in the bed. She rose slightly and turned. Hyatt had pulled a chair near to the bed and sat there, one foot casually hoisted up onto the straw mattress as he silently observed her. He wore his chausses, leather boots, and a linen shirt, holding of cup of some steaming brew in his hand. It looked as though he had been awake for a long while, for the fire was stoked and his eyes were clear.

“Good morning, my lady,” he said softly.

She settled back against the pillows again and pulled the covers up to her neck.

“I was going to wake you in a moment, for the castle will be astir shortly. I have noticed that your people rise with the rooster at dawn.”

“Have you been awake a long time?” she questioned.

He laughed ruefully. “You have inspired great thought, Aurélie. You, and your keep, are full of surprises.”

She felt the color come to her cheeks, but kept her eyes fixed on his just the same. “Do you say that you had no idea what you conquered, sir knight?” she asked with no small amount of sarcasm.

He leaned forward toward her, a frown of puzzlement wrinkling his handsome brow. He firmly planted both feet on the floor and leaned his elbows on his knees, holding his steaming cup in both hands. “If you wish to address me formally, lady wife, you may assume my lordship. When the villeins are settled and word of this occupation is delivered to Edward, I will carry full title in his name. Yea, I will be your lord.” He took a sip from his cup. As he swallowed, his eyes burned into hers. “What was Giles to you?” he asked flatly.

“My husband; my beloved,” she replied without hesitation.

“Nay,” he said quietly. “Whatever love you had for him did not bind you in wedlock. Why did you play me false? Was the truth so painful?”

She felt the sting of tears threaten, but forced herself to face him with strength. “I do not expect anyone to understand what I felt for my husband,” she said defensively, hearing the tremor in her own voice. “That I loved him deeply is absolute. The consummation of our marriage was delayed …”

“Delayed? It is reasonable to shelter and protect a child bride, and I was told you were very young when delivered here. But, for twelve years? Aurélie, do you deceive yourself even as you attempt to deceive me?” He shook his head as if he pitied her. “Had you told me the truth, I might have dealt with you differently than I did.”

She could bear no more and turned away from him. She did not understand how or why she had failed with Giles; she could not explain it to Hyatt, of all people. She felt his weight press down the bed and a hand on her shoulder turned her back to look at him again.

“I pity your grief, but, madame, I do not know what you grieve.” His brows were drawn together in sheer bafflement. His voice was smooth and quiet. “Was it a brother you had in Giles? A friend? What things did he do for you that made you love him so? From all accounts he was a weak and incompetent leader, and there are many insinuations that he was strange. Was he kind? Gentle? I know he did not keep you safe, make you wealthy, or give you pleasure in bed. What, lady?”

“Surely, Hyatt, I cannot expect you to understand, if you think that wealth and carnal pleasure are the only things a pure woman desires,” she said, her tears running down her temples and into her hair.